Jun 16
When you’re in Cadiz with a Greek, two things are guaranteed to happen: one, you will gorge yourself on seafood; and two, the trip will be one big fiesta. It’s Friday night in the old city and we are bar-hopping through its cobbled streets. The mournful strains of a saeta emanate from a converted market hall and the city’s 18 to 20 something-year olds are out in force. Read more
Jun 15
Imagine that you’re the director of an upcoming James Bond film. At your disposal you have a star-studded cast, an Oscar-winning Bond Girl and a ridiculous amount of futuristic gadgets. Everything seems to be going well until you hit a snag: among the list of filming locations there is one country that isn’t going to warm to the whole idea; especially not when it involves the antics of a gun-toting (albeit fictional) Western spy. Read more
May 28
When spring sweeps over the Castilian highlands, Salamanca’s honey-coloured stone buildings set the scene for a dramatic comeback. Within no time the umbrellas and café tables reappear on the streets, now coloured by a multitude of sunglasses, smiles and scoops of ice cream. Read more
May 24
It’s a Sunday afternoon in Madrid and we are standing in the central square known as the Puerta del Sol (“Gate of the Sun”), kilometre zero of Spanish roads and the pulsating heart of the capital. Home to great collective events like the city’s New Year celebrations, it is now centre stage for a spontaneous nationwide protest movement dubbed “15-M”. Read more
May 20
On our last night in Seville we realised that there was something missing from our whirlwind trip through the Andalusian capital. We had ventured into the depths of the cathedral, wandered the gardens of the Alcázar and tried the guilty pleasure that was pescado frito. But so far we had not yet seen a flamenco show. Read more
May 17
From the outside it seemed like a strange mishmash of Moorish arches, bricked-up colonnades and single-pane windows. Truth be told I was not entirely enthusiastic – I was eager for lunch and we had just spent the last hour inside the cathedral with its throbbing crowds. Read more
May 10
I had not expected Seville to feel quite so much like a European capital. The latest trams zip and down the pedestrianised avenue, whizzing past posters proclaiming the latest achievements in sustainable living. I look over at the cycle lane, its boundaries marked by a double trail of stainless steel, subtle disks stamped onto the brand-new flagstones. Read more
May 7
“Número diez.” With a nod the taxista puts his hands on the wheel. 6 hours after leaving Madrid, his unmistakeable accent reminds us that we are practically a world away from central Spain. I roll down the window to let in some fresh air. Outside the sun is high in the sky, its rays beating down onto the tarmac as we whisk past rows of majestic palm trees. Read more
Apr 27
“That will be 8 euros.” The voice resonates from behind a glass screen. It belongs to a man in his 40s, round-faced and indifferent. Digging into the depths of my wallet, I fork out a 20-euro note before sliding it into the metal tray. It disappears in a flash. Read more
Apr 14
It is the faint sound of bubbling water that draws us out of modern Cuenca and into its medieval soul. We peer over the low parapet, rough to touch but still softened by the winds of time. Below us a mountain brook threads its way between the old stone embankments. It is tantalisingly clear, tinted a luminous blue-green with a dash of white. Sabrina gazes into the water with the excited eyes of a child. “I know it’s cold, but I would happily dip my feet into the river.” Read more
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