Siestas and fiestas. 

España, the country of midday siestas, fiestas in the evening and everything in between. When you get to a country so saturated in culture, it’s easy to get sucked in. We spent the hours of 14:00-17:00 napping most days, just like the city around us. Then left the house again at 21:00 to explore the night life. 


You forget how big football is in Spain. Then you get to Barcelona and Madrid. Jerseys with Qatar Airways and Fly Emirates in bold lettering across the front. Giant stadiums that players like Ramos, Ronaldo and Piqué call home. Their faces on post cards and their names on key chains. 


Fake Louis bags, Michael Kors, Longchamp and the like are found on every corner. Fake jerseys. Fake Nikes. Vendors who can pick up their goods at any second when the police decide to hang around. It’s genius really – their merchandise mats are actually giant bags with a quick drawstring. Toss it over your shoulder and move to the next spot. 


Tapas. The regular sort with charcuterie and then something they call a montadito or in English, tiny sandwiches. Paella. Seafood paella. Who knew rice and peas could be so delicious? 


Spain holds a culture that I love. Loud and brash, unapologetic and romantic, in a way. I can’t wait to come back. 


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