Background on the blog series “Lessons on the Road”. I used to have this overly analytical way of calculating whether a year was net positive or negative, kind of like a personal yearly report. So come every December, I’d be stressfully trying to tally up all my experiences: “Did I give enough? Did I learn […]
A few months ago before our trip began, I had said to my Company, “Well, get ready for us to feel like we’ve got no home for a year.”
He had replied, “Home is where the husband is.”
Malaga was the last Andalusian city we visited before leaving Spain. As I entered the port city, I reflected on how Andalusia exceeded my expectations. I suspect part of it is the intersection of cultures and histories that seemed so foreign to me, and the other part is the reflections I had while I was there as the hot sun baked dry the surrounding mountains and coastal towns.
Note: This is the first of a multi-part series on Andalusia, a region in southern Spain.
Seville, June 24, 2018
Tonight children played, running across the plaza chasing bubbles on water reflections. As their laughter echoed, twilight settled and I was once reminded again of my favorite childhood memory— going to the city square with my dad as the sun tucked into night. What a strange and exciting transition that was, as one by one the night lamps flickered and shone, welcoming the cool evening as the winds chased the heat away.