I was 33 when I first visited Europe. You’re slightly less than half of that. You’re so blessed, Martin. And I know you’d never forget this wonderful adventure. Thanks to FB and IG, your souvenirs are forever stored in cyberspace. 






A pity we can be together for only a week in Madrid. But I knew you’d have a heck of an adventure with your aunts after Madrid.  Bilbao’s Guggenheim is an architectural marvel.  I bet your first Renfe train ride was, by itself, a magical journey. Dripping with excitement, you must have found that stone, glass and titanium creation of Frank Gehry a dream. Almost magical! 





I do not wish for you to remember San Sebastián simply for its food. I know. It does register as a superb food porn place. Can’t blame you. But just be reminded of its magnificent Basque architecture, breathtaking seascape, and of course, remember how you worked up a sweat climbing Mount Urgull. Thank Tita Shelly for packing a racion of La Viña cheesecake to “reward” you! And yes, Barcelona rocks, doesn’t it? Gaudi has truly weaved magic to this Catalan city. By this time, your tastebuds have become more discerning. Pulpo, Navajas, Orejas, Foie Gras, Chickpeas, Chistorra, Jabugo, Tarta de Quezo. Yum!






Zaragosa is where you found time to pray in thanksgiving for all your blessings. And more. Paris beckons. And there’s still so much of Madrid to explore. You may remember so much more. Your mind and your tastebuds will remind you. But best of all, cherish the happy memories in your heart. Memories of how much love and care you received. Snapshots of how so well-loved and blessed you are. 


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