I wore my most comfy shoes on this trip but we all know my luck. At the start of the journey, a crack appeared in the inner sole of one shoe, hobbling me completely. And what’s the point of being in Spain if you can’t walk? I’m staying in an area where cars aren’t even allowed.
So the moment I arrived, I did the typical American thing and went shopping for shoes. And books.
And fresh bread and mortadela because I blew the budget on the shoes.
My mother really delivered when I called her to say I arrived. “What language do you speak to people there in Spain?” she asked. Yes, it’s a complete mystery.
Clarissa's Blog 
“What language do you speak to people there in Spain?”
suggested answers:
“Speak? I just point, stamp my feet and look indignant and make them guess.”
“Spanish of course, it’s very easy there are only a few words, I just repeat joder, coño and puta madre over and over in different orders.”
“They don’t ‘espeak’ in Espain… they SSSIIIIINNGGGGG!”
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