It always begins with bleach. Sure, there’s the heat that hits when the plane’s doors open, then the ever-so-slightly altered look to the tarmac as I make my way to the terminal. But when I always know I’m in Spain … Continue reading →
Guiri is one of those words, like feminist or peely-wally, that I want to reclaim. Locals use it to refer to tourists - you know the ones - who stick out a million miles. No matter how long I live in Barcelona, that is always going to be me.