Sevilla feels like the heart of classic Spain, hot and picturesque and timeless. This is where the unique rhythm of Spanish life makes perfect sense: even in September, the afternoons are so hot and the air so thick that you could fall asleep at the lunch table, before ever making it back to your bed. You take a siesta because you cannot fathom staying awake; walking around feels almost like swimming. But the evenings are cooler, and by about midnight the air feels wonderful, refereshingly cooler but still warm enough for a tank top with no cardigan. This is the perfect time to sit outside at a bar and drink sangria or cocktails. And it seems that every park in Sevilla has both a bar and good nighttime lighting, so you can enjoy the surroundings along with your drink. If you choose to go to flamenco, it likely won't start until midnight (unsurprising, as the club we went to was unairconditioned and underventilated), and the bars in the parks will still be open and positively overflowing with people when the flamenco ends at 3 am. I didn't think of Sevilla as a party town, but I don't think I've never seen so many people partying so much and so late anywhere else in my life, though perhaps the howling crowds near Plaza del Sol at 5 am in Madrid could give them a run for their money.