Spain

This past week I went on a spur of the moment trip to Spain, specifically the city of Alicante. When I got there I noticed many things, including the multitude of English people, which I will admit was disappointing. It seemed to be a popular place for British people to retire to, which we did not know when we booked the trip. Despite this, the view alone made it worth the trip. The sea was beautiful, however, and our hotel room overlooked the beach. It was warm and a welcome break from the windy, cold, and rainy weeks in London. My favorite day was when we found a hot tub attached to the hotel and paid to use it, not knowing that it came with free drinks and food. All my friends on the trip got drunk in the hot tub, all wondering how we found ourselves in this place. I felt so in my 20s, so young and silly. Like kids that got a hold of our parents credit cards and ran away on a whim. We laughed until the place closed down, and realized we had spent much longer in the hot tub than we thought. It was the most fun I’ve had in a while, and it was lovely to escape London for a moment. That being said, by the forth day, I missed the rain. I missed the cold and the wind, I missed the sound of the tube and the slow meandering of the bus. When I touched down in London and felt the bone chilling cold, part of me wished I was still in the hot tub in Spain, and part of me felt lucky that I was going home to my warm bed overlooking the city.