Vacation Recap Part I: Crossing the Pond and the Hug of a Lifetime

Well, I’m back!! Daron and I have partially recovered from our 17+ hours of transit time from yesterday. It was a really, really, really long flight home. I’m so glad to be home, but I have to tell you that I miss Madrid so much, and the family I met there.

I have no idea how many blog posts it will take for me to get it all out, but I’ll try to be clear and mention all of the good parts in turn.

I have 1,168 photos from the trip and when I tried to trim it down to “highlights” I only got it down to 298!! HA! Anyway, that means that there are a crap ton of photos, which I will gladly link to, but there are a lot to wade through.

So, I guess I’ll begin at the beginning.

Part 1: Crossing the Pond and the Hug of a Lifetime.

I was so excited on departure day, that I am positive my husband considered dropping me off at the airport 5 hours early just to be rid of me. I was anxious to be traveling alone, but the staff @ lufthansa was really nice. My seatmate was a very kind, but very severe Finnish man, who reminded me of one of the bad guys from Indiana Jones. When I took my seat with my massive backpack, he offered to put it in the overhead bin for me. When I refused (as all of my junk was in there) and told him I’d keep it under my seat, he chuckled and said he’d be happy to move it for me when I got tired of having my knees in my chest after 6 hours. (I should note that this very comment prevented me from asking him to move it for me when I got tired of having my knees in my chest after 6 hours.) I didn’t get much sleep, though I tried… At one point, I woke, and kept smelling something funny. It took me about an hour to figure out that it was the gaping mouth of the Lars on my right. Ugh. The food wasn’t anything to write home about on this flight, but was certainly appreciated. Entertainment while on board was pretty okay, I watched Confessions of a Shopaholic, Duplicity, and I Love You, Man

The layover was a BEATING. I arrived about 8.5 hours before my connecting flight was to take off, so when I asked a lady how I was supposed to go about getting my boarding pass, she either misunderstood, or thought I looked gullible, because she told me just to “Exit”… I took that to mean that I needed to fully exit the airport and re enter so that I could go to the ticket counter again. (which it turns out I DEFINITELY did not need to do) this process ended up taking almost a full hour, because the Frankfurt airport is a REALLY big travel hub. When I got to the passport counter, the German passport control was a really big and intimidating guy. I swear he looked at me for, like 3 minutes, up and down at my passport picture. It made me nervous! I swear I started sweating and my face got red, like I was guilty! Anyway, after about a thousand minutes, he slammed his stamp against my passport without looking down and said, “Velcome to Germany”… hehe. It was pretty funny.

In the airport, I had a LONG time to kill, which I filled with mulling around the duty free shops, hunting for an ATM, playing on my DSi (Daron’s graduation present for me!!), and having a skype convo with Daron once he finely got up! The flight into Madrid went pretty fast, but when we started our decent, I started to lose it. I was looking down on the Madrid area, and hoping my new traveling companion (that suspiciously enough, I can NOT for the life of me remember ANYTHING about… creepy) wouldn’t notice the tears starting to well in my eyes. The close we got to the ground, the more I had to fight them back. The anticipation, the uncertainty, the anxiety… it just kept building.

The wait for my luggage almost unbearable… I finally grabbed my bag from the belt frantically, and ran for the exit door. I couldn’t keep my tears from falling at this point, and my breathing was strained… on the verge of hyperventilation. Was she there? Did she find the right gate? Was there an accident that might keep her from being there on time? Does my hair look okay? I should have stopped to pee. What if she doesn’t like me… What if i don’t recognize her…

The faces at the curb were all strange and new. Signs beckoned for “Smiths” and “Lopez”, and people on tiptoes pressed against the railings, looking for those who had traveled to see them. Shirts were rubbed flat, taxis were being hailed, and people were struggling with the almost-too-full suitcases they tugged behind them. And then, above the sea of strange faces, one that I knew and love… one with eyes, full of tears like mine, one of my beautiful Lola, waiting, just like me, to hug the sister she’s never touched.

We couldn’t get to each other fast enough, and yes, we were those crazy people in the airport who are hugging and crying in front of everyone. I knew she was tall, but I still smiled as I looked up at her. I know her voice, but her laugh was so light and joyful, it took me by surprise… I already memorized the shape of her glasses, and the brown of her hair, but I could never have imagined the warmth of her hugs. My sister, my friend, my lola.

Up next, Alicante and the IASE Conference!