No Fiesta. Just Siesta.

I guess we're just getting more used to the Spanish timetable. After getting home, Elena passed out in her bed. J and I passed out on the couches. I just woke up with my face in a puddle of drool, having had the most egotistcal dream of a handful of Spanish girls competing for my *ahem* attention.

Waking up to reality wasn't so bad, though. Instead of heading out, we dove into more bread. And cheese. And wine, definitely wine. In typical Spanish fashion, we dined late on a great selection of local goods. A mellow night for sure, but a quality one nonetheless.

Tomorrow we party. After I get back to those girls in my dreams...