Mishaps And Memoirs, from Madrid!

I’ll tell you now that on my first trip to Spain, the best part happened by accident. Picture a night train from Leon to Pamplona, 2006. Me, blond as ever, ink on my high school diploma still wet. My friend Jake and I believed running with the bulls after marathon Sangria tastings was the “How I Spent My Summer Vacation” story we needed to tell. And after a week in France with my sister and extended family, we boarded the train with an already stressed debit card and just enough Spanish to misunderstand everything.