It’s something special to travel with people you met by chance but begin to really know.
You know she needs to eat and she’ll need to shop. He needs coffee, and they’ll need a nap. Someone has the gummies, and someone else has the cell phone. And don’t forget, smile or react, everyone has a camera.
We took the subway from the airport and emerged in the middle of the country. It looked like Armani had finished a photo shoot and then let all the models loose on the streets. Ladies and gentlemen, we were in Madrid.
I was mesmerized, slightly jet-lagged and wonderfully overwhelmed. Erin’s tears (the good ones) said it all. We were in Spain. Finally.
We were in the country I’d always wanted to visit, embrace, love.
We walked the noisy streets to our hostel—a place with wi-fi, but only in the hallways. We checked in, claimed our beds, and began dissecting guidebooks.
Each new country, new plane ride, new bed, was another adventure in the making. We decided on dinner and jazz, chorizo and gelato, gin and tonic, and a love for a city we barely knew.
We explored one of the greatest art museums and danced in front of the royal palace. We went in search of flan and discovered Spanish history. We walked too much, forgot to eat, and marveled at the almost-prefect gene pool in which we found ourselves.
We bought postcards, gathered stamps, and mailed letters home. We collapsed in a park and listened to the sound of soccer practice. Art, people, buildings, stories: Madrid did not disappoint.
Next time, we’re staying longer.
Roof: En busca del Tiempo
Food: chorizo and ensalad de bacalao at Bodega de la Ardosa, gin and tonic
Sight: Museo Nacional del Prado