So I’m onboard the plane, on my way to Madrid to visit my boyfriend. There is this old couple sitting right in front of me who haven’t stopped talking for past 3 hours. I have tried every trick in the book to shut them down – ipads, headphones etc. – but I am not successful. I am hearing these constant gurgling voices in Spanish… blah blah claro.. blah blah mercado… and despite my attempts to drown them out or make them quiet with my death stare, I fail miserably.
I know from my Spaniard boyfriend, Spanish culture is so fueled by emotions, even a discussion of the most mundane tasks can seem like an argument. But that’s the reason I love Spain. I love the passion. I also love the way they pronounce the s or soft c sound as “th.” For example azul, which means blue, is more likely to be pronounced “athul.” and Barcelona is “Barthalona” — you get the idea.
I decided it was time for all my close friends to experience the Spanish culture that I have grown to love so much, and so I invited them and their families to Mallorca for a week. I rented a beautiful house from Balearic Villas in the Port Pollença area of the island.