It took much of my life to get to Spain. But I’ve known it — the Spain of blood and sand, flamenco, theater and poetry — since I was a child in Puerto Rico. Madrid evoked marvel and dreams for us, and my mother longed for the crimson geraniums of Seville and the dirges of Granada, reciting García Lorca’s lines, “Verde, que te quiero verde. Verde viento. Verde ramas”
— Luisita Lopez Torregrosa
 

WE MAY USE BLOGS TO PLAN MOST OF OUR TRIPS, BUT WE ALWAYS HAVE A BEATEN UP GUIDEBOOK IN OUR BAGS! BUY YOURS NOW.