20 minutes: How long it takes to drive from my house to the border of Washington, DC...7: Number of days I spent on my staycation.
I tried to keep it a secret, as much as someone can keep things like this a secret...
Being on top of the world is really hard on your calves. This was the conclusion I came to after walking up the steep slopes of the mountain town of Granada, Spain several times a day to return to our hotel, Hotel Alhambra Palace.
They say March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. For me, March came in like a lion and went out like a Tasmanian devil.
The drum started in the distance, slow and steady, like a heartbeat. We didn't say it, but we were all thinking it. Uh oh.
We spent the morning in the bright sun, sipping coffee and sampling food...then came the rain.
The taxi driver swung around the traffic circle, narrowly missing a smart car. I wondered if the statue of a woman driving a chariot would be the last things I'd ever see.
It’s been 20 hours since I dragged my overstuffed carry-on suitcase through the doorway of my house. After three taxis, a three-hour train ride, countless hours at the airport, a six hour flight and one narrowly averted snow storm, I’m finally here, at my hotel in Spain. Exhausted and excited.
When I think of Spain and literature, I think of Cervantes' Don Quixote. The would-be knight from La Mancha and his sidekick, Sancho Panza, might be the most famous book by a Spanish author. Sadly for me and my trip to Spain, I am not a fan of Don Quixote.