It’s the little things that remind us of a good trip: the pop song on the radio that played in every bar in Spain; the grey beat-up backpack that dutifully carried all our belongings; and the site of red wine served from a penguin.
It’s the latter that reminds us of all our hot Latin nights, dining on the sidewalks of Buenos Aires eating juicy steaks and cheap house wine.
“Wait, did she say wine from a penguin?”
Yes I did. Yes I did.
I'm Jaime. My husband is Tom. Suburbanites, backpackers, and expats...we've been them all!