Seville. And not just Seville, but back at the hostel I stayed at three months ago when I first arrived in Spain. I’m a backpacker again, living out of my backpack, hiding my goods in dorm lockers, playing drinking games, avoiding the Aussies, laughing at the Scottish, getting along with the Canadians and sharing travel stories with the Koreans. Last night we all stayed up late and I got a little drunk. Tonight I would like to get a little drunker.
I still don’t understand Seville’s streets. Are they changing on me when I’m not looking? Melbourne feels further and further away, like it doesn’t really exist when I’m not there.