Anyone who knows me knows that I am in constant battle with my HAIR. It’s a scary frizzy mess that I tame into submission every morning by tying it back with plenty of product, but the dangly bits still fall prey to humidity. And so, after running a few errands and working up a bit of a sweat today, I thought I still had plenty of time to get home, change my top and FIX THE HAIR before meeting a friend for lunch. Then it turned out that I didn’t. Well, the top was passable, but not the HAIR. And then it hit me that my hairdresser’s was on the way to the meeting point, so I whipped in and said “Joaquín, can you please lend me a straightener (plancha)?” and he got one out right away and plugged it in. I’m not sure if he thought I was nuts, but it was quite a neat “quick fix” and I was able to get on with my day. It also left me with a renewed feeling of how at home I am here in Sevilla. Good ol’ Joaquín.