Homeward Bound
After 16 days and many sights, sounds, tastes and Spanish lessons, it's time to go home.
I had a great time, even while living in close quarters with my sister for 2 weeks. Spain is a country worth returning to, and my interest in learning the language has been solidified.
Currently, I am sitting in the domestic departures wing of Pearson International, waiting for the gate call. The airport is boring and linear with low ceilings that make you feel trapped on the bottom bunk.
The flight from Spain was 8.5 hours, 40 of which was spent on the ground in Madrid as the ground crew tried to manually start the starboard engine after repeated attempts by the pilot & crew. I was a little nervous, wondering what else might decide to stop working while we were 30,000 feet over the Atlantic.
The plane pulled through like a trooper and landed us all safely just a few minutes ago. My fellow passengers were few and I had the luxury of stretching over a couple of chairs and catching some sleep after the tiny airplane meal was served. I quite like those little trays, with their Kinder-Suprise-like engineering that fits all of the pieces together in a snug little serving.
As we crossed the Atlantic I watched the deep-blue pass miles below. Waves would crest and break, creating a momentary flash of white so small they looked like twinkling stars.
Home is just a few hours away.
Spain is already a memory.
I had a great time, even while living in close quarters with my sister for 2 weeks. Spain is a country worth returning to, and my interest in learning the language has been solidified.
Currently, I am sitting in the domestic departures wing of Pearson International, waiting for the gate call. The airport is boring and linear with low ceilings that make you feel trapped on the bottom bunk.
The flight from Spain was 8.5 hours, 40 of which was spent on the ground in Madrid as the ground crew tried to manually start the starboard engine after repeated attempts by the pilot & crew. I was a little nervous, wondering what else might decide to stop working while we were 30,000 feet over the Atlantic.
The plane pulled through like a trooper and landed us all safely just a few minutes ago. My fellow passengers were few and I had the luxury of stretching over a couple of chairs and catching some sleep after the tiny airplane meal was served. I quite like those little trays, with their Kinder-Suprise-like engineering that fits all of the pieces together in a snug little serving.
As we crossed the Atlantic I watched the deep-blue pass miles below. Waves would crest and break, creating a momentary flash of white so small they looked like twinkling stars.
Home is just a few hours away.
Spain is already a memory.
<< Home