I saw two Spaniards sword-fighting–I mean french kissing!–in the street. It was intense and fast, like two wriggly worms shaking hands. No, like a couple of electrified 5-year-olds without bones trying to high five before disappearing into a tunnel. And all the couples clutch each other’s culos constantly, at every age, even when they’re walking with their parents. I’m not used to the PDA.
But when my bilingual coordinator asked me my first impressions of Spain, I proudly told him that I know how to flush the toilet.