"Another round?" Shamelessly, I wanted to visit with Enrique again and of course claim my 3rd glass of his velvety port. "Guapa. You are having fun?" Call me guapa one more time, I thought mischievously. "Yes! And I'm going dancing with you tonight!" His eyes widened as he smiled. "Bryan me invita!" I explained in my broken Spanish.
After a long day's journey through the sites of Mardrid, the sun was low in the sky as I stumbled upon Mercado de San Miguel. My eyes feasted on the crystal clear glass structure being held up by iron beams winding across the ceiling. Through the walls, you could see produce displayed like a vibrant… Continue reading WanderLust (or Love), a Curly-American Walks into a Spaniard Bar… (Primera Parte)