I am back in the Charlotte Douglas International Airport on a three hour layover to Memphis and thought, what better place to end than the place where the writing began.
The journey home began with baby steps and then just became one massive blur. These last few hours have been some of the most strange of my life and it is absolutely insane to realize that I am back in my own country right now, surrounded by English speakers.
So, here I am, America, alone, exhausted, confused, phone-less, and completely broke. Just a few more hours though and I'll have a family, a bed and some real food!
After saying final goodbyes to Salamanca and flailing around in the middle of the street trying to get the attention of a taxi, I hopped on the bus at 5 a.m. with everyone else from Auburn to head to Madrid. But I, along with a few others who were traveling more or later, wasn't going straight to the airport but instead got to experience Madrid un otro vez (one more time).
We said "hasta luego" to our home bound amigos and hauled our suitcases to the Metro, headed for Melanie's hotel to drop it all off and go explore for the día. Running off of an hour and a half of sleep for the previous 24 hours, with no phone, hardly any money, and eventually a dead camera made it a pretty unique day.
It was such a great day, though. We walked and walked and walked and explored and ate magnifico local food. The day passed slowly but it was so chill. Never had I ever imagined sprawling out on the grass in the Parque del Retiro and napping in the sun as my last day in Spain, but it was perfecto. The absence of technology or plans was quite nice, because it truly allowed me to just live in the moment and experience it; drink it all in. I miss it already.
The Plaza Mayor de Madrid and the most stunning sunset: a photo I had to literally beat my camera battery into taking and the perfect last photo from España.
Entonces... (and then) the crazy journey really began. My friend Alec and I caught the very last Metro to the airport at 1:30 in the morning. We were struggling, falling asleep even on the train. Then once we got our things up to the airport we realized he was in a different international terminal and we couldn't take shifts sleeping and keeping each other company like we originally planned. So we said our goodbyes and I went off to my terminal, alone, to camp out at the U.S. Airways counter for the night. I curled up with my stuff and honestly wasn't too terribly worried about anyone stealing anything because I had literally not a Euro to my name at that point. Fighting sleep at that point waiting on the counter to open was one of the hardest things ever. I dozed off a few times and would wake up confused. Finally 6 a.m. rolled around and I got my bag checked and tickets and went off through security.
Here's the scary part is that I think I actually managed to sleep walk onto the correct plane to Charlotte. Crazy, but I did, and must have passed out in my seat immediately because I don't even remember take-off. I woke up for "lunch" and then realized there was a Spanish woman sitting next to me, so we had a long conversation in Spanish for the next hour or two about Spain, customs, boys, and life. Being able to converse with strangers is so beneficial--but I did experience my first round of reverse culture shock upon trying to answer the flight attendant in Spanish out of habit and he didn't understand me whatsoever.
No better way to realize I'm back in the South than to hear, "I ain't ever flew before" from this guy next to me at the gate. Time to get back adjusted and hopefully make a re-entrance into the world of iPhone as well. It's been a daze and it's actually been days since a sleep in a bed. Jet lag? No pasa nada.
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