On French Fries in Spain

I landed at the Seville Airport around 11:30pm local time (see above photo) and convinced a not-so-friendly cab driver to haul me across town to our Airbnb in Triana where I was met by Bryan, Jess, Hilary, Lauren and Mary who mercifully allowed me to shower off the twenty-seven hours of travel before leading me down Calle Pureza to a riverside bar called Mariatrifulca where we consumed trés bottles of sparkling rosé vino on the rooftop.

From the bar Hilary, Lauren and Mary went out dancing, Bryan and Jess went home and my bae Siri led me across the Guadalquivir to a late-night McDonald's (“Hey Siri, nearest French fry!”) that was actually more like a walkthrough bank because I paid a teller through a tiny slot in the wall and then said teller dispensed a bag of greasy goodness through a larger slot.

I put myself to bed around three but couldn't fall asleep so I climbed to the roof of our stay and texted with friends back home until the sun came up.

I managed a very short nap and then we all set out in search of sustenance.

After breakfast we visited Seville's ceramics district because that's a thing.

Now we're headed to the gay neighborhood to shop because Bryan's out of clean clothes already and so I guess I'll edit this post later okay bye.