Okay so before I begin to wax poetic about my love affair with Spain, here's a little truth. Yes, I have broken a limb and been hospitalized in Madrid for nine days (and yes the limp is finally gone thank you very much). And yes, it is also true that I was once evacuated from the airport in Ibiza because of a bomb scare and nearly struck down by heatstroke. And yes, there was that one time I barely survived an open-air tour of a bull farm in 110-degree temperatures in Sevilla before touring a bullfighting ring in similarly sweltering conditions.
But, all that aside, I can honestly say that I not only need Spain, I love Spain! And that says so very much, does it not? It's all because Spain is an enigmatic destination with experiences tailor made for every personality from diva to homegrown crunchy granola girl.
As I type this missive, I am literally raising a glass of Cava -- that's Spanish sparkling wine to the un-initiated -- to this country that I have developed a very special and chummy relationship with over the last several years. Like most memorable relationships, my affair with Spain has been simultaneously complicated and tempestuous -- but clearly never boring or lacking in adventure as the myriad of experiences I described vividly illustrates. Now, on to Ronda.
I like to think that Madonna and I have quite a bit in common. We're both Anglophiles with nearly authentic faux British accents, we both prefer younger men (preferably models), we're both spiritual beings, we share a disdain for hydrangeas... The list goes on and on.
Take away her millions, her number-one hits, her gold, platinum and multi-platinum records, her awards, her international superstar recognition, her gender and her ethnicity and Madonna and I are practically the same person. It's honestly shocking how similar the Material Girl and I really are. So with that understood, it will come as little surprise then that Madonna and I also share affection for a town called Ronda in Malaga.