Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Her smile widens. “Of course! Are you looking for the famous places, or something a little more... local?”
I hesitate. “A bit of both?”
“Good answer,” she says with a small laugh, reaching under the counter to grab a folded city map. “Okay, for a first-timer, you have to visit El Retiro. It’s a huge park - beautiful, very peaceful. Perfect for walking and people-watching, and not too far from here.”
I nod, imagining myself strolling through the park. I’d seen a lot of photos of it on social media.
“Then,” she continues, marking the map with a pen, “you must go to La Latina. On Sundays, there’s a big street market. You can find everything there. Food, clothes, trinkets...”
“That sounds amazing,” I say, leaning further over the counter to look at the map as she continues to mark it.
“And of course, you have to try tapas while you’re there,” Sofía adds, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “There’s a place I would highly recommend: Casa Lucas. It’s small, but the food? Incredible. You’ll thank me later.”
I smile as she hands me the marked up map. “This is exactly what I needed,” I tell her. “Thank you so much.”
Sofia waves off my gratitude with a flick of her hand. “No problem! If you need more recommendations, just ask. Madrid is my city. I’ll make sure you fall in love with it.”
I step away, clutching the map. I can’t help but smile to myself.
Madrid might not be my city, but maybe, just maybe, it could be.
∞∞∞
By the time I return to the hostel, the city lights are starting to glow against the softening sky. My feet ache from walking around the city all day, but I feel strangely energised.
Madrid is already beginning to weave its charm around me.
I push open the door to the dorm, partly expecting it to be empty. Instead, I’m greeted by the sight of three people sprawled on their respective beds.
All three of them look up in synchronisation, and for a moment, we all blink at each other. They clearly weren’t expecting me to just come bursting in, and I’m so tired after exploring all day that it didn’t really cross my mind to wait for a moment.
“Hey,” says a tall, freckled boy with messy blonde hair and kind eyes. He’s perched on the top bunk near the window, balancing a paperback on his stomach. Its spine is bent as though it’s been read and reread a dozen times. “You must be the newbie.”
I smile awkwardly. “Yeah, that’s me. Olivia.”
“Ben,” he says, his accent unmistakable. “Australian, in case the accent didn’t give it away.”
“It definitely did,” I reply.
He raises the book in a mock toast. “Well, welcome to the madhouse, Olivia.”
The girl on the bed opposite mine swings her legs over the edge and sits up. She’s beautiful. Her rich, dark curls frame her face, and her amber eyes practically sparkle with mischief. She’s wearing a bohemian-style dress, her wrists adorned with jingling bracelets.
“I’m Camila,” she says, her Italian accent rolling off her tongue like music. She gestures toward the petite girl next to her, who’s busy scrolling through her phone. “And this is Zoey.”
Zoey glances up briefly, offering me a shy wave. She has short, jet-black hair tucked behind her ears, and she’s dressed in an oversized hoodie and ripped jeans.
“Hi,” I say, nodding at each of them as I unclip my bag from around my waist and place it down on the bed. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”
“Have you been in Madrid for long?” Camila asks, tilting her head.
“I just got here this afternoon,” I tell her.
“Where are you from?” Ben says, swinging his legs over the side of his bunk.
“Manchester, U.K.”
“Ah, a Brit!” Camila says, her smile widening. “I spent a month in London last year. A gorgeous city, really; but so expensive.”
I hum in agreement as I move to sit on my bed. “Tell me about it. It’s much cheaper up north,” I say.
It’s a relief to finally sit down after walking around so much, and my feet practically sing as I kick my trainers off and tuck them under the bed.
“What brings you to Madrid?” Zoey asks, her Scottish accent soft but distinct all the same.
I hesitate before I answer the question. The weight of the past few weeks is still fresh, and though the three of them seem friendly enough, I don’t want to go into too much detail.
“I wanted a change of scenery, and this seemed as good a place as any,” I say, keeping it simple. “A fresh start, I guess.”
Ben nods knowingly. “Definitely a good place for it. Madrid’s got this vibe. Chaotic, but in the best way.”
“How long are you staying?” Camila asks, tilting her head.
“I’m… actually, I’m not sure yet,” I admit. “I’m not in any rush to leave. I was thinking about teaching English, and I’ve been in touch with a few different agencies about it, but I’ll see how things go.”