Malgrat de Mar

España. This place is unlike anywhere I've ever been. And I find myself now questioning why I've spent so many summer months in one single culture. I may not be able to speak the language and the heat may be a bit much, but Spain is so unique. And relaxed. And though the streets are empty and shops closed for three hours midday, the smallest of towns still feels more lively than a busy bustling city could ever dream.

Locals shoot off street fireworks and passersby do not even flinch. The scorching heat and noon sun prompts a sort of hibernation among the townspeople, though the cool and sunset night brings them all out again.

The obviously age-old structures that line the streets appear run-down. But the strung laundry drying on lines from windows suggest that the life within the buildings is anything but run-down.

Groups of young boys play soccer on the streets at a time past 22:00, and during the day, young kids run to the beach in nothing but a swimsuit, without adult supervision. The sand on the beaches is anything but soft and the sunbathers often nude.

The overpriced tourist shops that line the coast are filled often with one shop owner who sits on a simple chair in the middle of the store, looking outwards though in no apparent need for customers.

The roads are narrow and often filled with families walking and the sun never seems to sleep, though when it does make its departure for the night, Spain stays awake. For how long, I couldn't say, though rumor has it 6am is not unusual.

No wonder these people need their siestas.