Per usual, things are off schedule. It's the 15th of August, and finally, I am on my way to Cadiz. I was really shooting for a good month of living the life there, but I suppose two weeks will suffice.
So anyway, because we are all on this journey together, I will be honest. My first day back in Madrid was really rough, in a really terrible way. I was filled with regret and nostalgia (number two and three on that list I made of the most horrible feelings that exist in the spectrum of human emotion) for having left San Francisco. I suppose that the fact that I literally have nothing to do until the first of October had a lot to do with it. I left all my family and friends to come to Spain and do what? I couldn't remember.
But the mind always amazes me. We are made to adapt, and adapt we will. Some are better than others when it comes to this evolutionary phenomenon, but in general, we figure it out. And for this, I am thankful.
It took me just about 24 hours to figure it out. I spent the day at the pool with Alex, who I will give credit to for bringing my spanish back to life (11 year olds talk a lot, especially this one), and over tinto de verano (what Spaniards really drink…something similar to sangria) at the pool bar with Pilar…I remembered why I came back.
Summer is a completely different experience here, and I had to experience it. It's been ten years since the last time I did! (remember when you got fat from eating ice cream every.single.day Ashley?) It actually hasn't been that hot, but nonetheless I've been wearing as little clothing as possible while going about the daily routine of a kid on summer vacation: waking up at 11, meandering over to the neighborhood pool, going to get ice cream, going back to the pool, having a drink, eating a tapa. Oh man, it is THE life.
And then I was sad to leave Madrid, but excited to see the ocean. I feel a little whirlwind-ed (especially after staying out until 6 am in Madrid last night…) and its presence will certainly ground me.
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