I wear my boots of Spanish leatherrrrrrrr

So here I am, back in southern Spain for the first time since October.  Thus far, I’ve really been enjoying it all. We left Córdoba this morning on the train. Last night, it poured. We were expecting rain, and boy, was that an underestimation.  However, we had already gotten in a walk around the old Jewish neighborhood and the new part of the city.  And in the spirit of Navidad (Christmas), we even stumbled upon an impromptu caroling concert in the middle of a plaza all decked out for the holiday season.  It was pretty fantastic, to say the least.  And carols in Spanish are just that much more exciting – complete with flamenco guitar and claps and stomps.

As we tried to wander around a few more streets, the downpour started.  With our raincoats and my newly purchased, intensely Spanish boots (which I bought to survive the rain/snow in London and then next semester in Washington, DC), we were okay for a while.  Even still, we needed to eventually take cover, and the only place nearby just happened to be … a tapas and flamenco bar! So, we took refuge in the bar, Dad got to witness his first authentic Spanish flamenco performance, and we ate amazing food.  Overall, victory.