The sky overhead was painfully blue as only the Madrid sky can be; not even a wisp of cloud blemished its blueness. The sun beat down on the pavement, blinding visitors and natives alike as they wandered about La Puerta del Sol, Madrid’s central square. 
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Madrid
INNOCENCE
When I moved to Madrid in the year 2001, I found the city so open, friendly and well organized as far as public transport was concerned that I decided to live a year without a car. My then husband had a car, so for going out of the city I was set. Everything else I did by taxi, bus, metro or walking. Continue reading
ONE IS NEVER IMMUNE
I never thought I would fall, believe me; in spite of the fact that I live in a country where it is so prevalent that contagion is practically inevitable. And yet, I was positive: the bug would never bite me, it was not in my nature, it was against my better judgment and certainly had nothing to do with the personality I had so carefully constructed. No. Not I. Continue reading
Writing a life 