quick stop in madrid

It's 1 a.m. Wednesday night and I arrived back to Madrid from Ibiza not long ago.  I literally have one pair of clean socks for the next four-day trip, so here I am up waiting for the washing machine to finish so that I can hang out my clean clothes that will definitely not dry in time for the 1 p.m. departure tomorrow.  Moments like these are when I really miss dryers.

Anyhow, Ibiza was, of course, fantastic.  This was my third trip to the island: I have nearly completed a year cycle in seasons.  I think it goes without saying that summer reigns, but nonetheless the others are just as incredible in their own ways.  This spring trip was a bit faulty in the weather department, as was expected, but the lush landscape was by far the greenest I had seen it.  Then, it wasn't as crowded and buzzing as the summer months, but not as quiet and peaceful as the winter, making for a perfect medium...

And then, as in every season, there was the little patch of land where Lucas' family is settled in typical Ibicencan country homes scattered about each other.  Each home has its name (Lucas' for example, is called Can Torre), its family, its photos and books and history.  In another post, I will have to go into this history, of how Lucas' parents (originally from Madrid) ended up on the island with some 10 others years and years ago.  Anyway, something about this little organic network, tucked away in the woods of Ibiza, fills me with warmth.

I felt strange about leaving, nostalgic hours before I even headed to the airport, but how else was I going to feel?  This place is paradise.

Off to bed, then off to Extremadura.  Pray for my socks, that they may not reek of mildew!