When I finally made the switch from film to digital, I had a great opportunity to test it out on the road: two weeks in Madrid. Although I was there for business, my colleagues and I managed to squeeze out some time for sight-seeing in the evenings and over the weekend.
On one of our first evenings, we ventured to Plaza Mayor after dinner. It was late (late by American standards, anyway) and it was raining, so we had the imposing space mostly to ourselves. Light bounced across the wet cobblestones, giving the space an almost ethereal quality.
The shops lining the first floor of the arcades were mostly closed, though one remained open, its walls lined with pictures of bull fighters, with more than a few heads of the unlucky creatures keeping watch over the patrons.
That weekend, I returned to Plaza Mayor during the day. It was bright, warm, and sunny; the quiet square had transformed into a throng of tour groups bumping against each other in their respective attempts to navigate the space.
By the time the weekend arrived, a colleague and I were in desperate need of a natural escape from the city landscape. We made our way to Retiro Park, where she jogged along the trails while I meandered through the garden paths. The park's variety of horticulture was massive, including a Victorian sculpture garden, and the waterfowl that settled along the backs of the ponds and streams were just as mixed.
Madrid boasts several museums that house some of the world's most renowned collections and works of art. The Prado and the Reina Sofia top the list and one could easily spend an entire trip browsing their galleries.
But the food. Oh, the food. From seafood to pork to cheese to more types of sausage than I'd ever seen, the food is what I remember most from this trip. Competing gazpachos, suckling pig, Galatian seafood, paella, and tapas graced our tables with flavor combinations I could only hope to replicate in my own kitchen. I like to debate the question of "cow or pig" with friends; for me, it depends on where I am, but in Spain, it is the pig that reins supreme.
This was my first time in the country and I was hooked: the food, the architecture, the people, and the culture had the same allure I felt when I traveled to Russia for the first time. I could easily spend weeks and months here, traveling to the various regions to experience their cultures, languages, and cuisines - and, of course, attempting to capture it through my lens.
On one of our first evenings, we ventured to Plaza Mayor after dinner. It was late (late by American standards, anyway) and it was raining, so we had the imposing space mostly to ourselves. Light bounced across the wet cobblestones, giving the space an almost ethereal quality. 
The shops lining the first floor of the arcades were mostly closed, though one remained open, its walls lined with pictures of bull fighters, with more than a few heads of the unlucky creatures keeping watch over the patrons. That weekend, I returned to Plaza Mayor during the day. It was bright, warm, and sunny; the quiet square had transformed into a throng of tour groups bumping against each other in their respective attempts to navigate the space.
By the time the weekend arrived, a colleague and I were in desperate need of a natural escape from the city landscape. We made our way to Retiro Park, where she jogged along the trails while I meandered through the garden paths. The park's variety of horticulture was massive, including a Victorian sculpture garden, and the waterfowl that settled along the backs of the ponds and streams were just as mixed.
Madrid boasts several museums that house some of the world's most renowned collections and works of art. The Prado and the Reina Sofia top the list and one could easily spend an entire trip browsing their galleries. 
But the food. Oh, the food. From seafood to pork to cheese to more types of sausage than I'd ever seen, the food is what I remember most from this trip. Competing gazpachos, suckling pig, Galatian seafood, paella, and tapas graced our tables with flavor combinations I could only hope to replicate in my own kitchen. I like to debate the question of "cow or pig" with friends; for me, it depends on where I am, but in Spain, it is the pig that reins supreme.
This was my first time in the country and I was hooked: the food, the architecture, the people, and the culture had the same allure I felt when I traveled to Russia for the first time. I could easily spend weeks and months here, traveling to the various regions to experience their cultures, languages, and cuisines - and, of course, attempting to capture it through my lens.
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