Spain feels like someone took castles, beaches, cathedrals, ridiculous food, spectacular architecture and several centuries of history, then decided absolutely none of it needed to happen before noon.

Honestly, I respect the commitment.

Barcelona comes out swinging with Gaudí architecture that looks like someone gave a brilliant architect permission to design buildings while hallucinating. The Sagrada Família has been under construction for so long that finishing it almost feels disrespectful to tradition.

Madrid brings enormous plazas, museums, nightlife and enough restaurants to ensure your plans for an “early dinner” are treated as an adorable misunderstanding.

Because Spain operates on Spain time.

Lunch happens when other countries are considering dinner. Dinner happens when responsible adults elsewhere are brushing their teeth. Nightlife begins at an hour when I’ve occasionally been leaving for the airport.

Then there’s everything outside the big cities.

Mediterranean beaches, whitewashed villages, medieval towns, mountains, islands, castles and countryside make Spain much more than Barcelona plus whatever questionable decisions happened in Ibiza.

Of course, Spain gets crowded. Summer heat can become fucking hostile. Famous attractions require planning, and some coastal destinations have been developed so aggressively that finding “authentic local charm” may involve walking past seventeen British pubs first.

But Spain absolutely earns its popularity.

It’s historic, beautiful, delicious, energetic and wonderfully uninterested in your normal schedule.

Come for the architecture.

Stay for the tapas.

Leave after discovering that dinner at 10:30 PM somehow became completely reasonable.

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