Espana - creative writing

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España

It was the first time I had seen a large wound, well the first I had remembered, and the first I would never forget.

We were on holiday, the perfect holiday from my point of view. There were about twenty of us, varying in age, some from Birmingham, a couple from America but the majority from London. We were going on a road trip, ultimately to Spain but stopping on the way in Dijon, France. As incredible this holiday was starting to sound, the finest part to me was probably the fact that my parents were not here. I had come with my hyperactive 18 year old brother, my cousin who was a medical student, my two aunts, one of whom had brought her grandson along, my beloved nephew.  I don’t think I can remember a single moment where I wasn’t laughing, smiling or simply enjoying the company of my family and the many friends we had made.

The journey was astounding; it became one of those trips that could never be able to forget. Stopping in Dijon for a couple of days was amazing. It was the little things that made it unique, for instance my cousin, brother and I would take my nephew, Prem for walks in a stunning rose garden that was simply tranquil. He would want to be with us everywhere, reminding us of ourselves when we were younger and innocent, just he seemed to have five times as much energy as we did.

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Spain was an experience of wonder. From the people, the night life, foods, activities and that feeling I felt throughout the trip of sheer freedom.  It seemed to be absolutely perfect, from the swimming pools to the beach nearby and the balconies that overlooked the entire city that just lit up at night. Being is such a magnificent place, it automatically made me get to know the people I had come with to a great extent.

Having this great bond between us all, certainly made us experience Spain just that bit more. In fact, they had made an intense ...

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