The past, the present

It's a well-known fact that I've been bitten by the travel bug, but now this is just getting ridiculous. I've realized that this weekend will be my third consecutive weekend outside of Madrid.

In late May, I went to the Spanish province of Andalucia, birthplace of Flamenco, Spanish guitar and huge cathedrals. You know, all things typically Spanish.

While visiting Angela in Huelva, I went swimming at the beach. I can't even think of the last time I actually swam in a beach -- usually I only get in hip-deep before the paranoia of floating trash, sharks and my poor swimming skills get the better of me and I splash about on the shore. At this beach, however, the waves were calm and the water somewhat warm, making it a rather pleasant experience overall. Less pleasant is the sunburn and subsequent peeling of my back and shoulders.



Last weekend, I took a trip to Italy on a whim. I found a cheap flight to Milan, and took a train to Genoa (birthplace of Cristopher Columbus), Pisa (no time for sight-seeing outside the train station, sadly), and eventually, Florence. Since I didn't plan anything outside of the flight, I ended up spending way more money than I meant to, and being too stressed about being homeless in Florence for a night to really experience Italy properly. Plus, I've discovered that traveling by yourself kind of sucks. At least in my opinion. I need someone next to me to hear my witty remarks and to appreciate the beauty of whatever place you're seeing. Going into Europe's largest Gothic cathedral and enjoying a Mass in Italian isn't the same when you can't turn to someone and share that moment.







Saturday I'm off to Copenhagen for a few days to check out a statue of the Little Mermaid, visit some Danish beachtowns, couchsurf and hear some up-and-coming Danish bands. I'm actually really excited to visit Scandinavia, and it will be nice to take a break from the 90+ degree weather Madrid's been having. It's making me miss winter.