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Whenever I’ve travelled on my own that first night has always been the most exciting and anxiety ridden, i can’t wait to establish my local geography, mark out the escape routes just in case i get pulled in to a Jason Bourne movie. The parallel to this is being away from anything familiar and feeling a slight sense of drift. I have to supress my inner introvert and go out and establish my comfort zone.

So I’m in Madrid minding my own business in a Chinese restaurant where I’m the only customer and I’ve failed to find anything on the menu that doesn’t include flesh save for the patatas bravas -which then inexplicably arrived with a meaty gravy.

Sat facing the door, in direct line of sight of all the staff with Now That’s Not What I Call Music soundtracking my every sip of water it’s the most wistful solo meal I’ve ever had. I’m a comfortable independent traveller with a poor track record of eating anywhere amazing on my first night in town, so i decide that the excitement of my trip will most likely kick in the next day.

Then the superheroes walk in, they made my night and Madrid turned out to be awesome.

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