I spent a lone weekend wandering around Madrid.
Admittedly it felt a little strange in the beginning, but I quickly adjusted and sank into the groove of it.
I drank sangria. I ate manchego cheese; a lot of it. I died a little over a flamenco ballet (complete with classical Spanish guitar and breathtaking dresses). I walked until my feet refused to walk anymore. I stared at Dalí and Picasso paintings until I was no longer welcome (in the incredible Reina Sofía museum). I mastered the art of eating alone (finally). I turned 22.
It was special. I think I'll always remember it.