I forget just how pretty Barcelona is. I’ve only been here once before, fifteen years ago, and then just for a day. That day, we wandered down La Rambla and up to the abandoned Olympic park on the hill. We took a night bus back to Zaragoza. I stared at…

‘Welcome to Spain,’ I say to Ryan as we pass the sign that says Comunidad de Aragon, having just emerged from a long tunnel. We emerge into a cloud, the misty fog surrounding us. From the other side of the tunnel, we could stare into the distance at the clouds…

After breakfast—and after confirming our stay at Le Clos de Luz in Luz-Saint-Sauvuer, the place I am most looking forward to staying on this trip—I tell Ryan I’m going to call the Barcelona airport Lost and Found, as they had recommended doing after 2-3 days. They don’t pick up. I…

It starts raining as we pull into the parking lot for Gaztelugatxe. ‘I don’t know how much we’re going to be able to see if it keeps raining like this,’ Ryan remarks.  I want to say something snarky about how it would have been better if we slept in more…

We take it easier today. When I wake up, I wrestle with jet lag. I try the, ‘Five more minutes,’ excuse with Ryan, but he’s not having it. He’s right. All I have to do is throw on clothes so we can go down to breakfast. We’re eating at our…

Today we go to the Guggenheim, and to dinner at Nerua, the restaurant that sits underneath it, in keeping with our general travel philosophy of doing one-ish thing a day. I had seen a bakery during our afternoon wanderings, and want to start the day with breakfast there. We walk…

Ah, these moments. The ones where everything changes.  ‘I don’t have my passport,’ I say to Ryan as we approach passport control in Barcelona. It’s not in my purse, or pocket next to my phone. I check, and check again. ‘I am feeling like an idiot,’ I tell him.  ‘None…