i know, i know. this is late.

So I realize I should've started this 3 weeks ago, but I've definitely honed my procrastination skills. Hence the birth of this blog. I should be writing una carta right now (that's a letter for all of you non-spanish-speaking kids), but this seemed a more appealing option. I will make it short though, as I should really get some work done.

Cuenca... I was in Cuenca this past weekend. Never heard of it? Neither had I. It's a little town about 2 or 3 hours southeast of Madrid. Most of the town was built on the side of cliffs- certainly a sight to see. The highlight of the trip though was Sunday afternoon when myself, and about 40 other brave souls went cliff jumping. Yes. Cliff jumping. Despite the colder-than-60-degree water, it was an experience I would never take back. Plummeting 40-plus feet into freezing cold water may not sound like fun to you, but believe it or not, it was. From afar, the jumps looked so easy, not so high, but as soon as I was standing on that cliff, looking straight down into the water, the fear set in: fear of heights, fear of free-falling, without restraints, with nothing but my wet suit and a helmet to save me. The feeling is indescribable; freeing, yet terrifying at the same time. I wish there was another way to put it, but I am so glad I did it.