We leave tomorrow. The bags are mostly packed, the girls are already more excited about the plane ride than anything that happens after it — and honestly, that tracks. There's something about a plane that does it to kids. Snacks on demand, a TV bolted to the seat in front of them, no bedtime. It's a different world up there.
We're heading to Marbella — a small town about forty minutes west of Malaga on the south coast of Spain. The plan was to take the train down from Madrid, but there's some kind of issue with the tracks between Madrid and the coast, so we couldn't get tickets. We'll drive instead, which means a road trip through the Spanish interior. We're treating it as part of the trip rather than just the getting-there part.
Three weeks in one spot. It's a different way of traveling, especially for us — we used to move every couple of days, chasing the next place. That doesn't really work anymore. Travel days feel like a write-off now, and more than that, we want to actually know somewhere. Find the café we like in the morning, figure out where the good park is, get a feel for the rhythms of the place. You don't get that moving around.
So: Marbella. Three weeks. Let's see what it's like to actually be somewhere instead of just passing through.