I left Granada early Wednesday morning for a day trip to Ronda. Leaving the hostel, I walked down the dark, unoccupied street and hailed a taxi to the train station. At 7am, Granada was completely quiet. A couple of people stood on the street corner, waiting for the bus to take them to the airport, but outside of those few, the city was still asleep. Read more
I arrived in Granada on a warm Monday and stepped off the plane onto the tarmac. I do love it when that happens. The airport was small and I easily made my way to a bus waiting outside to transport new arrivers to the center of town. Once in the center, I hopped off the bus and caught a taxi up to the Albaicin, the old part of Granada and the best preserved Arab quarter in Spain. Read more
Barcelona is one of those places where time, at some point or another, becomes meaningless. Days turn into nights and nights into days, all blending together to create a swirl of memories. At least, that was my experience as a traveler in the city.
I arrived at Barcelona airport, and to my surprise, was literally able to grab my luggage and walk out the door. No customs. No immigration. Just me and all of the the other tourists waiting to become mesmerized by the city. Hola Spain! Read more
Good Times & Tan Lines 