EU, we have arrived!!

After a very long, full day, I can happily say we are safely in Madrid. We arrived at the hostel around 6 p.m. (Madrid time) and Erik was in bed by 7:30. I was too, but I couldn't stand it. My mind was awake! So, I came down here to give you a friendly little recap!

Erik and I arrive in Philly and had eight luxurous hours waiting in the terminal A20 for our plane to Spain. While the people watching was superb, and I was able to make stories up about the lives of all of the people who would be traveling with us, a pretty sizeable knot was starting to tighten in my stomach. I am not a 'flyer'. Don't get me wrong, I'm no negative nellie, but I just don't find it especially fun, at all relaxing, or remotely comfortable. It is inevitable that I fall into the 'two inches too tall' category in everything on planes. The head rest? I'm two inches too tall. The perfect amount of 'too tallness' to make resting your head not so restful... The kind of inch difference that goes from 'managable leg room' to a catatonic state'. Please know I'm typically a trooper, I am just a little less than eager to cram my 5'11 body into a sardine can. So as Erik and I are 'lounging' (staring at the same Philly plane lot for a good 5 hours now), I told him I was nervous. And as life has a way of dealing me this hand, he says "Well why? Think of all the reasons why you could be nervous about flying, and then you'll see there is nothing to be nervous about."

HA.

We are seated snuggly in aisle 9, just next to the large Spanish man with too tight pants and a neutral colored belly shirt. He smiles, we smile- all is well. It can be understood that, at this point, we've had our days full of flying. We're both tired, and just waiting to get some of their delicious steam fried molded corn syrup into our tummies before sliding into neverland. I create a bee-hive out of my scarf and place it gently on the top of my head and nuzzle it down until it touches the bridge of my nose. Everything was finally starting to become quiet.........

"ATTENTION, ATTENTION PLEASE GUESTS. There is a...uhhh... part here, that well, it's malfunctioning. It looks like we'll be turning around back to Philedelphia. This uhh... well, needs repair before we get any further over the Atlantic.'

The camera pans to me, where I'm internalizing this death sentence.. Oh my goodness, I'm on this mothership in the middle of the Atlantic and it's about to turn AROUND a 1/3 the way through the trip because of mechanical errors?!!?! I would normally never consider sedation at any point, but there is not a tylenol p.m. in this world large enough for the immediate sedation I thought I'd need. Someone find the horse tranquilizers, I want out. And- instead of screaming or hyperventilating, which would have been my first reaction for myself, I slowly removed the scarf from the bridge of my nose, and said a little louder than appropriate, "Well, I better get a complimentary duffel bag out of this!!!!!!!!! (joking)". Noted, humor seems to be.... nonexistent in airplanes, especially during times of stress.

Turn, turn,turn shouts the vertigo in my stomach. Well, atleast we're going to figure it out. It really always could be worse. Ha, funny I mentioned that. Worse- it got worse. Have you ever been on one of these planes that holds a small town? When they rumble, it touches your soul. Or, for air etiquette, 'turbulence'. Here we are, in the middle of the Atlantic, with a mechanical error, making a detour.... well heck, lets ice this cake! I would like my stomach in my throat, over, and over, and over until we land.

As we safely land in Philly, I look at sleepy eyed Erik, and slowly release the white knuckled death grip I had on both my arm rests. 'Oh, what's that you say Stewardess? An hour and a half wait?' Well, maybe sleep will visit us after all.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NO. Remember the Spaniard? GLUTTUNAL SNORES. Horrendous, log cutting snores. This guy was chopping Seqouias an inch from my face in a sound reverberating 2x4. It was almost theatrical, like the lion from the Wizard of Oz. Yes, exactly like that. Three things were going to happen. I was going to sneakily pinch his nose shut, I was going to pay the nearest person $100 for a breathe right strip, or this guy was going to wake up.

Well, some mercy- wake up he did. Only to his dismay, did he realize that we were still stuck waiting over two hours later. He huffed through his nose so constantly, that it was as if he was snoring awake. At this point I'm scanning the plane for a hidden camera. Someone HAS to pop out of the nearest exit and offer me a gift certificate to Skymiles for my supreme patience and grace.

Sadly, I received nothing except the privlidge of listening to him snore sleep, and snore awake. The plane ride was just as long as imagined, and beautiful Madrid was awaiting our arrival. Ultimately we arrived much later than expected. Exhausted, yet unbelievably happy.

The rest of the day was almost as difficult as the beginning. Our spanish could use a little.. sprucing up, if you will. People were far less interested in helping in ANY way once they realized we really only spoke English. Having 70 lbs. on your pack, a purse, a duffel bag (circa 1993) and a winter jacket in 68 degree weather, made the five hours between when we got off the plane and arrived at our hostel long to say the least.

BUT, BUT, BUT!!! (there is always a but) It was absolutely AMAZING walking up those steps of the metro into Madrid. It was literally as if I was stepping into another world. The buildings are tall and classical, with long windows and pretty browns and neutral colors. People here are a) beautiful b) dressed wonderfully and c) everywhere. There really is no where else I'd rather be right now...... except maybe asleep:)