First impressions of Spain

Wednesday, September 5th was a day spent entirely in transit. I arrived in Spain in late morning (by their standards), with the sunrise sneaking up and over us as we flew east. I could tell my body did not agree, though, especially not after remaining completely conscious for the whole 7-hour flight. I know economy isn’t really comfortable for anyone, but times like this are when I really curse my height. Whatever, though! I planned on hitting the sack (a real bed!!!!) as soon as I could upon touchdown on Tenerife, though it was around 6 pm Ohio time. Maybe the secret to beating jet lag quickly is to pull an all-nighter on the plane? 

Though I was seated in the middle row of our huge Boeing 757, I could still catch a few glimpses of the country beneath the curved Dreamliner wings once it was light enough. My first thought was “wow, that’s dry!” As my mom said, it’s bound to be a harsh transition coming from the lushness of a wet Ohio summer. I like it, though, with its sharp lines and earth tone palette dotted with shrubs. As we descended into Madrid, the sky was an odd gray-tan that had dissipated by the time I left the airport. My friend Lillian—fellow Bowdoin grad, Spain Fulbright chaos partner, and city expert—was kind enough to write me (pathetic country bumpkin) step-by-step instructions on how to navigate Madrid’s Metro all the way to her new apartment so that we could meet up during my layover. I was so nervous about this on the flight across the Atlantic, especially because I had yet to purchase a Spanish SIM card and therefore was unreachable/incapable of googling when not on WiFi. I honestly didn’t even know the Metro was a subway and not a bus until I was leaving passport control. But Lillian’s instructions paired with the fact that the Metro is actually great made everything easy. 

My only prior subway experience had come from spending time in Boston, which did not exactly warm me to this particular mode of transit. To me, the T felt rickety and incredibly confusing. Plus, every Bostonian I know makes fun of me for liking the Blue Line best (it just has the nicest atmosphere, ok?). In contrast, the Metro and its stations are well-lit, spacious, and make it very hard to miss a stop or lose your way. Plus, the relaxed no pasa nada Spanish attitude means no one is sprinting down stairs or anything crazy. To T sages: I respect your craft immensely but I’m good luv, enjoy. 

appropriately patriotic color scheme

I arrived at Lillian’s apartment after an unintentional but pleasant walk around the Argüelles/Moncloa area, during which I was convinced I had stumbled upon some famous Madrid landmarks I’d seen in movies. I think they were just nice buildings. [Side note: this ties into a larger issue in my life, which is having INCREDIBLY poor long-distance and mid-range facial recognition. More on that at some point] After I refreshed and pulled myself out of corpse mode, we set out to find my first real food in ~15 hours. We ended up at a place called Cilantro Madrid, where we ate gazpacho, bistec a la parrilla (steak), pan, and sandía (watermelon) from their menú del día. 

We then walked around the area in search of a certain wireless carrier store for my SIM card. We passed hundreds upon hundreds of darling boutiques, hair & nail salons, cafés, and restaurants. There was a fresh breeze blowing and a blue sky over our heads, making the architecture even more enjoyable. Running on no sleep and just being generally overstimulated meant that during our walk I had to constantly remind myself that I was in SPAIN! I’d finally made it to Europe! All the movies set in Madrid that I’d watched for my Hispanic Cities in Cinema course no longer had to be abstract. The language that I’d spent 16 semesters studying was suddenly surrounding me. I may have been tired, but I was not too tired to revel. 

As my plane for Tenerife took off this evening, I thanked my lucky stars that my usual randomly-assigned-seat gamble planted me by a window. My favorite airplane activity is to listen to music and watch the world pass by below me, and this was a particularly special opportunity. While taking off, I listened to one of my all-time favorite songs, “Hasta la Raíz” by Natalia Lafourcade, and then queued up “Tajabone” by Ismaël Lô. This song plays in a very powerful scene in Pedro Almodovar’s film Todo sobre mi madre (1999), and has always stuck with me. As it was playing, I looked out of my window and happened to see a train pop out of a tunnel JUST LIKE IT DOES DURING THE SCENE IN THE MOVIE (set in Barcelona, but w/e!). I almost lost it. As we rocketed southwest, we were treated to a long sunset that my phone could not begin to do justice to. 

As the great Lizzie McGuire once said, this is what dreams are made of.