Last weekend was spent in Madrid and I was so very, very close to hugging a building. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed this city until we were driving into it and there were signs for Conde de Casal and Mendez Alvaro and it felt like coming home, which was both terrifying and wonderful at the same time because it’s not, not anymore. In less than a month, I’ll be flying from Madrid, with pitstops in Reykjavik and New York, Montreal and Calgary before finally, finally landing home in Regina. But ah, Madrid.
Life is funny sometimes. I read this post on a Sunday and was in Nerja for the day the next day. Dad, daughter and I packed up quickly Monday morning and arrived at Grandma’s house in time for a late lunch. In the space of a few hours, I practiced my fledgling Spanish, chatted with a cousin visiting from Copenhagen who made me think of my day trip last summer (how has a year passed already?!) and ate some of the best lemon pepper chicken with homemade mayo out on the front porch. That’s what summer’s supposed to be like, right? Eating until you could sleep followed by a trip to the beach and reading in the sun. Cause if it is, I’ve got this cased.
The one thing about not having a plan was that I didn’t have a ride back to Málaga. And then the internet went down at the hostel. And my app stopped working for a few hours. Which meant that getting back to the house involved a bus, a train and a taxi ride that cost more than the rest of my transport that weekend combined. All in the name of adventure. However, before all that happened, I walked (a lot) and took more vertical photos than I think I’ve taken. Ever. Continue reading
It was the tile that caught my eye at first. Bright blue and light brown flowers against the white, a sharp difference from the concrete outside. Of course, it took me a couple of weeks before I finally made my way in, a coffee date with Rebecca after yoga one Sunday. And, even as Madrid’s in the centre of the country, about as far away from the ocean as you can get in Spain, but Vacaciones feels like you’re sitting just out of sight of the beach, the bar on the corner of the street catching the breeze as it floats by and families walking by, the lights bright overhead, sun coming in through the window.
Out of the blue, my new host mom told me I could use the weekend to go away. Dad and daughter were spending a weekend with Grandma and she was going away with friends for the weekend. Friday afternoon was spent quickly arranging for a ride from Málaga to Granada for Saturday morning. I didn’t quite have time to look up a hostel, but a stop at the tourist information in Plaza Nueva had me sorted out and I ended up at Oasis Hostel, which I absolutely loved and goes to show that not everything needs to be planned for a trip to be successful. Continue reading