Edinburgh has a very special place in my heart. It has the perfect weather (grey skies are superlative), exquisite architecture, and my favorite espresso shop in the world: Wellington Coffee. I don’t know if it’s because it is nestled in a basement level space, or because of the splendid tile I want in my house someday, or the fact that they introduced me to coffee with oat milk. Not goat milk, oat milk. And I don’t know if I am eternally grateful or resentful because now I can’t find a decent place in California that serves coffee with oat milk as delicious as Wellington’s.
Sightseeing in the rain, dodging through a sea of marathon runners, and finding a bakery with vegan croissants made Paris a truly fascinating city. Just as my sister and I were standing under the Eiffel Tower in awe we received notification that our flight the next day to Madrid was cancelled. Our next move was to figure out a way to Madrid. Flights were all booked and trains were pricey. The only thing left to do was take a bus. By the time we made up our minds on our method of transportation and tracked down an Uber driver that couldn’t find us we didn’t have much time left. Fortunately for us we were blessed with a world’s finest driver. Not only did he wait for us to pick up our backpacks at the hotel but he also walked us right to the ticket booth and persuaded the clerk to sell us a pair of tickets even though it was past the selling hour. And thanks to wonderful Chann we were in Madrid 15 hours later.
I could get lost in Barcelona and not have a care in the world. A city full of energy and life. Old and new. Motorcyclists zipping their way through the grids of the city. It’s the cure to anyone feeling depressed, unmotivated, and lonely. Words cannot do this city justice, so my advice: get on the next flight to Barcelona. You won’t regret it.