José Manuel Seda, actor: “Driving an electric car is pleasant, although at first it's a little disconcerting; without realizing it, you reach great speed and are surprised by that sensation of tachycardia.”

The Sevillian actor José Manuel Seda is one of the most recognizable faces on television, something he has earned not only for his presence but for his ability to ensure that we don't easily forget the characters he plays. In the series Valle Salvaje, he plays José Luis, one of the key figures in the production; he was part of the cast of the film Fin de Fiesta , directed by Elena Manrique; and he played Colonel Sagasta in La Casa de Papel , that cold, firm character who put everyone to the test in one of the most tense moments of the series. But beyond the spotlights and cameras, José Manuel is also an attentive traveler, someone who values what happens between points, and who sees mobility not only as a necessity, but also as a way of looking at the world. Today we're not talking about scripts, but about roads, landscapes, and memories.

José Manuel, do you remember the feeling of the first day you drove alone?

Yes, I was 18 and I got my motorcycle and car licenses at the same time, the A1 and the B, at a time when my plan was to apply for the local police force exams in Seville. After many arguments with my parents, they let me use their car, a wonderful Renault 4, the "four-speed" with the gearshift on the dashboard. It was my first real sense of independence and freedom, even if it was just for a spin around the neighborhood.

Do you still like driving?

I love it. In fact, if I get into a new car, I always ask if they'll let me drive it. On some series or shoots, when I'd become familiar with a driver, I'd ask them to let me drive because I love it.

What car do you have?

I have a BMW 316 that I bought from a friend in 2008, and it's still holding up great ever since.

What kind of driver would you say you are when no one is watching?

I don't know if I can describe myself as an impatient driver, but I don't like to sit still. I don't go very fast, but in the city I admit I constantly change lanes; I'm quite dynamic.

Which journeys have stayed with you more for their emotional impact than for their destination?

I've always seen my life as a journey. I like to consider myself a traveler, an explorer of the unknown. Before, on theater tours, I used to drive my own car instead of using the company's, because the tours lasted two or three months and I preferred to take my own car to the next city, enjoying what I found along the way. Lately, the trips have been shorter, with weekends away and back. One of the great trips I took was to Costa Rica. I went alone and toured the Pacific coast for three weeks, driving a Suzuki Jimny I rented in San José.

Has cinema had anything to do with your way of looking at the road?

It's true that the windshield works like a screen, and I'm very curious. Sometimes, I find it hard to avoid staring at something while driving because I love to discover everything that's happening around me, just like my 16-month-old daughter, who observes everything as if it were the first time. Sometimes, I go off the road to admire incredible places that catch my attention.

José Manuel, you who love driving: What do you think about electric cars?

They're clearly the future, and I find them very pleasant to drive, although initially the experience is a bit disconcerting because you're not used to the sound or the engine's response. Earlier this year, I had to take a trip, first to Seville and then to Malaga, and I rented an electric car. Without realizing it, you reach high speeds and are surprised by that sensation of tachycardia; the car glides with a smoothness that's almost unnoticeable. In any case, these vehicles have automatic transmissions, and I still prefer the feeling of driving a car with a manual transmission.

What's the worst time you've had in a car?

It was in an accident I had with the first car I ever bought, a Ford Escort . I was on my way to Seville from Malaga. On a long downhill slope, almost reaching Antequera, I overtook a semi-truck. One of the lanes was closed for roadworks, and a small traffic jam formed, forcing me to slow down. In the rearview mirror, I saw the truck coming at high speed, without braking. All I could do was grip the steering wheel firmly and hit the brakes, without quite knowing why. The semi-truck hit me, and I crashed into the vehicle in front of me. My Ford was like an accordion.

There are places that give us peace and recharge our energy. Is there a road that can give you that?

Yes, when I was filming a series for Canal Sur in Coín, Málaga, there was an area between Martín de la Jara and El Río that had stretches of road that changed dramatically depending on the season. It was a very pleasant stretch of winding road, where you felt closer to yourself and further away from everything you were leaving behind: the world, the noise, so many things. Driving there, with music playing and the window down, was a very special experience; you don't get that on a highway.

What place immediately impressed you upon arrival?

Costa Rica! I drove every day and it felt like I'd circled the island three times without realizing it. I also spent a couple of weeks in El Hierro, and I was able to explore the island from top to bottom. It has many magical corners, with landscapes that look like they're from another planet. There are areas where you think you're on the moon, and others that transport you to completely different places, as if you were in Galicia. It's a mysterious island that captivates you and where strange things happen. I had a strange experience there that I still can't explain.

What places have you revisited over time?

Sometimes, we run the risk of trying to relive something that made us happy, but as Les Luthiers said, any time past was before. I was filming a series in Barbate for almost four months, and I haven't stopped returning since. It's a place with extraordinary people, very easy to make friends. It retains that purity that still defines it, even though it also thrives on tourism. It strikes a balance between authenticity and what's already beginning to resemble mild gentrification. When you arrive, you feel more like a traveler than a visitor.

José Manuel, I understand that in the summer of 1990, specifically in the month of August, you took a trip that still means a lot to you.

It was my first trip to the Soviet Union, and my first time flying a Tupolev. I've been fascinated by airplanes since I was a child; I had the complete aviation encyclopedia, and my first great passion was being a pilot.

Why did you decide to travel there?

It was a trip organized by the Andalusian Regional Government for those over 25. We arrived in Riga, Latvia, and visited the Baltic Sea. We were surprised to hear that, due to the latitude, the water wasn't salty. Near Riga, we met some Russian musicians from Leningrad, present-day St. Petersburg, with whom we immediately connected. They were the alternative hippies of perestroika, just like us, in our Andalusian version. I had dreadlocks and was somewhat anti-capitalist. We met them in Leningrad, went there, and sang together in Hermitage Square. We made a great deal of money, although they didn't give me a single ruble.

What was it like to arrive in such a different country, with such a unique tradition?

The atmosphere was somewhat reminiscent of 1980s Spain, with its openness and search for freedom. We went to many concerts held in almost clandestine venues, where we had to be careful in case the police showed up, although there was a certain sense of relaxation. It was a country where you could still get on public transport without paying and find soda machines that said "whatever you want."

The first McDonald's had just opened in Moscow, as well as a Baskin-Robbins ice cream parlor. I met a girl in Leningrad who, as a gesture of welcome, took me to a McDonald's hamburger after waiting in line for three hours. I gave her a pair of Levi's and saw how many people there idealized the West, believing it to be a paradise without inequalities.

The country lacked freedoms and opportunities for young people. Everything was heavily controlled by mafias, and in Moscow, if you wanted to buy vodka, you had to go to the taxi station as if you were looking for drugs. However, the people were extraordinary.

I bought a collection of incredible records, at 20 pesetas each, all published by the Government, but with artists from all over the world: The Beatles, Stevie Wonder... A marvel.

Was it a turning point for you?

It was a starting point, a vital moment that had to happen and that marked a before and after in my life. It had a huge influence, just as it did with Cuba, because certain utopias crumble when confronted with human reality, which always transforms them. That trip marked the beginning of my great adventure as an actor; performing on the streets with strangers gave me the inhibitions I needed to face the auditions at the Theater Institute. It was the beginning of a path that still continues, a personal journey that allowed me to overcome many fears.

Aside from the albums, what did you bring back from there? Both personally and professionally.

I came away with the feeling that traveling is essential for everyone, especially for those of us who live or were born in beautiful cities that sometimes make us a little stubborn. Seville is wonderful, but getting to know other places opens the mind. Traveling and discovering new cultures, with barely a smattering of English, forced me to find the resources within myself to communicate with a Russian. Although we didn't share a language, we spoke rudimentary English and still managed to understand each other, even without knowing exactly what we were saying. That ability to find tools to survive and connect is, without a doubt, one of the greatest lessons that travel offers.

Would you go on a trip with Commander Sagasta from Money Heist or José Luís from Valle Salvaje ?

I couldn't tell you who I'd go with. Maybe Sagasta, at least he'd protect me; I don't see him as a danger, and he'd certainly give me good advice on how to survive in difficult situations. But speaking of travel and personality, it's clear we have nothing in common; becoming someone like him is, without a doubt, a journey in itself.

On the other hand, José Luis is a very interesting and intense character, someone who is both the same and different at the same time. While one follows certain codes of honor, he follows others, which he breaks when it suits him, displaying the aristocratic hypocrisy that sometimes appears. However, we cannot judge him as a person; we must defend him to avoid falling into parody or caricature; it is essential to try to understand him.

You were talking about Costa Rica earlier. What was the loneliest trip you've ever taken, and what did you learn from that solitude?

Of course, that trip was very special. There were entire days when I barely spoke to anyone other than the person serving me food; there was barely any social interaction. I remember in Playa del Carmen, a place where you feel pretty safe, my bag containing my passport and camera was stolen. Afterward, I went to the Tabacón hot springs, a super touristy and expensive place, but spectacular: at the foot of the volcano, with hot rivers. Then I had to return to San José to get a safe-conduct pass from the Spanish embassy so I could continue my trip—a kind of special permit to cross borders.

José Manuel, if you were going to shoot a film of your own, would it be at sea or in the mountains?

It's funny how whenever I think of filming locations, they're usually by the sea. I remember some Roman ruins in Poland, before they became overcrowded, with the sea in the background: a spectacular visual contrast.

Has your way of traveling changed since you started as an actor?

Of course. As we get older, we begin to appreciate comfort more, especially when it's hard to sleep. I need everything around me to be calm and quiet, almost obsessively so. The bed has to be comfortable, the pillow just the right size; those are the little miseries of an insomniac. I used to always have a book in my suitcase, but now with the iPad I can carry an entire library on a single device, which makes things much easier.

If you could travel back in time and talk to 8-year-old José Manuel, what would you say?

“Try, try, try”: this is key. Fear will always be there, but learning to live with it and not letting it paralyze you is invaluable advice. People, family, and society always have opinions that want to hold you back, but in the end, it's your path, and you have to walk it your way. The image of talking to a small child, perhaps your future child, is very powerful. Those internal conversations we have as children, imagining who we will be and what we want to convey, are sometimes the ones that shape us the most, even if life later takes us down unexpected paths.

José Manuel, if you could choose a person, whether they are with us or not, a historical figure, a fictional one, or an ordinary person, to share a multi-day trip with, who would it be and where would you go?

Look, I'm an apostate, but I would say Jesus of Nazareth.

Your plan for today?

I have a doctor's appointment and continue resting.

There are conversations that feel like a country road: peaceful, with gentle curves and unexpected views. That's how you travel with José Manuel Seda. Far from the character and close to the person, he has shown me something that doesn't usually appear on screen: his way of observing the world and each of its countless details, no matter how small. I'm left with that kind and thoughtful person who is capable of stopping the car and finding beauty in a curve, even when his shooting schedule is extremely demanding.