Four weeks ago, nearly to the day, I arrived in Barcelona rolling my weight in luggage behind me, wide-eyed and the most terrified I’ve ever been in my life. I

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Hello, Madrid.

Granada was fun. More about it later. Quite possibly the best way to travel, if you have the time, is by train. It takes longer than a plane, but is

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I’ve seen a lot of enchanting things here: undulating hills exhaling thick mist, extravagant moorish-influenced architecture, fields and fields of olive trees like Illinois has corn. I’ve seen flamenco dancers, 

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Barcelona is crazy about a few things: FCBarcelona, mixing red wine with pop (vino+lemon Faygo/tonic/limonada=tinto de verano, vino+Coke=kalimotxo), and wearing lots of viscose jersey. They’re also crazy about xocolata; at

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Bicicletas Para Todos!

Barcelona is a walking city. I’m shocked to learn how close everything is to one another, especially near the sea; the three trendiest parts of town, Barri Gotic, La Ribera

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