Buenos Dias

Buenos dias. For some reason this morning (4.30 in DC, 10.30 local time) as we were landing, I thought it was strange that that was hello in Spanish. I kept stopping myself from blurting out in Italian ‘bon giorno!’ or stumbling through questions in French: “j’ai a Malaga, q’esserai l’hoeur?” That’s definitely not right.

It has been an interesting trip over to Spain. On my overnight, I sat in the very last row which was incredibly noisy. The flight staff did not encourage sleeping either. Just as I was settling back for bed, dinner came around and all the lights came on. Then this morning, I was harshly awoken by splashing orange juice all over myself. I was completely unaware that my tray table had been lowered and breakfast left out as a hazard. My fluffy purple blanket was immediately streaked like a splatter painting, and I hung it up behind my seat to dry before my next flight.

In security, I met a lovely woman named Mrs. Fritter, mother to two Foxcroft girls, class of 2007. How fun. Both Stephanie and Ali are studying abroad this semester and the family is traveling to Athens to try to catch a cruise boat that they missed due to the unpronounceable Icelandic volcano. I am jealous they’re going to San Torini, an island that isn’t very January-friendly, so it’ll have to be on the next Greece trip.

I even made the mistake of running through the terminal, my flight to Malaga was delayed 20 minutes so I could have saved my energy. Ali is meeting me at the airport, and who knows how far we have to go to get anywhere.

I’ve made a few goals for this week: visit Sevilla, Grenada, and Ronda, and take the ferry to Morocco. Then I’ll have visited 4 continents in 2 months, with a 5th in November when I go to see Adam. Hopefully that isn’t too much trouble. Regardless, I’m happy my next trips are to visit Elon and a BGC reunion in Delaware. No airports for me for a while!

PS – my bag didn’t arrive in Malaga with me. The funny thing is, I even asked the gate agent at Dulles if my bag would automatically switch planes. Clearly I had a reason to be worried. Nonetheless, it showed up the next morning at Ali’s apartment downtown. Such bad luck.


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