It's well past time to write about our trip to Spain in August.

We flew to Barcelona and stayed there for six days, then took the train to Valencia for five days, then took the train back to Barcelona for a final day before flying home.

If I learned anything from the trip, it's that Maya and I have rather different styles of travel. When I'm traveling somewhere for the first time, with no specific purpose other than to absorb the place, a typical day for me goes like this:

• Wake up, stuff some gummi bears in my mouth, drink something, and head outdoors.
• Walk, observe, take photographs, walk some more. Walk until I can walk no more and my stomach has begun to eat itself.
• Decide that it's time to eat something. Obsess over finding an eatery that is authentic yet accessible to a non-native, quality yet inexpensive. Ending up eating fast food or something from a convenience store. Tell myself this is authentic for people with poor diets.
• Walk more, until my feet ache unbearably and I crash for the night, in some cases on the street.

Maya, on the other hand, subscribes more to the idea that a trip should be relaxing. She insisted on activities like sitting down in cafes, and on eating something substantial before starting out for a day of walking. In Spain the two went hand in hand, as there wasn't really any food available from street vendors or 'to go.' I tended to strain at the proverbial leash on these occasions.

I prepared for this trip more intensely than ever before. This involved studying two languages as well as researching restaurants, hotels, and sights, all of which I will talk about more in the entries to follow.

I didn't always prepare like this, except for the language part. I can scarcely believe now how spontaneous, and sometimes foolish, I was on previous travels--arriving at one end of a country and improvising my way to the other, or arriving in a city with no place to sleep. At some point I got wrapped up in the idea of transcending tourism by knowing as much as possible about the place ahead of time. I half-joked before this trip that I wanted to be able to give street directions by the time we got there. I am still a tourist, of course; I can't deny that. I am there to see the sights and get to know the place. I have no official business there. But I do like the idea of being able to go beyond the version of the place that has been readymade for tourists; the sights that inspire awe and appreciation without requiring any knowledge of their context, and the buses that will take you between them without requiring you to explore any alleyways or side streets, or deal with any uncertainty other than where the next bathroom will be.

This is the travel philosophy espoused on Anthony Bourdain's show No Reservations, and I embrace it. But Bourdain has 'fixers,' local guides that show him what's good and translate. The rest of us don't have this advantage, especially if we don't know anyone who lives there. It can be very intimidating, even when the people are friendly, to walk into a restaurant that clearly doesn't cater to tourists, that has no English menu. Community travel sites help us break down the barriers, but sometimes I worry that all the user reviews and study are taking away the mystery and the spontaneity of the experiences. In this case though, I felt the preparation paid off and gave us some experiences that we never could have had just by wandering.