Due to scheduling complications, I had to take a total of 3 trains over about a 17hr trip from Paris to Madrid. Kinda uncomfortable at times but at least I more than break even with my Eurail Pass. And I get one more trip on the Barca-Madrid AVE!! The movie wasn't as good this time, bu at least I was back in a land where they spoke castellano.
I got back to Madrid at around 4pm, and again I felt a breath of fresh air being back on familiar ground. I checked into my hostel in Sol which was nice enough, despite the fact that I had to share a dorm with 3 other dudes. But whatever I was only there for one night barely.
It was just about the worst weather I remember witnessing in Madrid. Rain, clouds and everything. But I had last-minute shopping to do damn it! I shop I did, for some Filipinos for the road, and more souvenirs. If only the weather was better, I would've walked down Gran Via on last time.
The hostel was for sure awkward and loud as hell. I was reluctant to sleep in my dorm, prepping all the stuff I had to before the flight. But finally it got quiet and I figured I should sleep a little before heading to the airport.
7:30!!!! AAAAAAAAAHHH damnit! I was supposed to get up at 6:30am! I slept through my cell alarm, and ended up waking up to the loud-ass alarm of one of my awkward dorm-mates. Luckily just about everything was prepped and ready to go. I grabbed my stuff and busted outtta that mother. Took the metro to the airport, grabbed my stored luggage, took a shuttle to the other terminal, checked in luggage and got to my gate that still wasn't boarding yet. Call up George Clooney, cuz I got this airport shizz down!
On the plane to London I started hearing some English-speakers. It started hitting me that I wouldn't be speaking spanish/castellano any more, at least not when I had formal busy-ness things to handle. I already start to miss it.
So here I am on another long flight, this time going in the opposite direction. Remembering way back on that first flight, I'm reminded of how so freaked out I was the whole time. I was so anxious and felt like such a newb at everything. This time, I couldn't be more calm, feel pretty relaxed, not a worry at all. I don't know if was that I'd finally gotten the hang of flying on my own, that I was just tired and jaded by it all, or just the thought of finally being home. En todos modos, in a way I almost felt like the title of this blog was not as true for me as it was when I started it.
I arrived at good ole' SFO safe and sound, minus one piece of luggage that got stuck in London, but I got that back the next day. All that I care about now is that I'm home, where I can get some food and some sleep.
Madrid, te quiero. Espana, deseaba conocer tu y tu tierra mas. Y todavia, quiero conocerte mas. 2.5 meses es mucho tiempo, pero no es mucho tampoco. Me voy a echar de menos tu calles, tu sonidos. Espero yo para nuestro proximo encuentro. Vale vale. Chao. Adios. Hasta luego.
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