When in Spain … er … I  mean Africa …

Eat where the locals eat

Casa Fernando - Local Seafood place

Eat what the locals eat

Boiled Octupus served with oil and jalapeno

Swim where the locals swim

Our new friend Leiko took us to one of her local beaches

My travels started in Wisconsin where I spent the holidays and Sunday I caught my first flight from O’hare. Unfortunately, due to a problem with a brake light sensor, I spent an extra two hours on my flight from Chicago to Madrid. (But, after hearing Henk’s story about the emergency landing his flight to LA made this past summer, I won’t complain too much. Besides, as I said to my seatmate, brakes seem important *grin*).

Pillars and the curved, vaulted ceiling at the Madrid Airport

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The Madrid airport was quite beautiful and while there I met a security guard as I was taking a picture of one of the murals. He kindly offered to take a picture of me with the mural and asked me if I was from New York. (How on earth did he know I was American? – cheesy grin). I said that I was from Minnesota and he said “Ah yes, I have been there – with the big mall.” Turns out he had been to the Mall of America in 1999.  What are the chances?

Me in front of a mural in the Madrid airport

As in Chicago, I arrived at the airport well before my gate information was posted. So I found a place to sit with my bags close at hand (my security guard friend had cautioned me about pickpockets) and ate the rest of my lunch. As I finished, Paula (a classmate) walked up to me as though we had arranged to meet there. We laughed and hugged and went to get her something to eat.

Standing in line at the café, we ran into Marilena, whom had moments ago found Constanza. We sat with our coffee and sandwiches as I tried to slow down my English and we loudly and excitedly caught up.

Having finished lunch, we began to walk toward our gate. (All of the signs in Madrid have the gate numbers with minutes next to them. I assume that this is the time they estimate it will take you to walk to them? Anyway, gate K was 12 minutes away.) On our way, we bumped into Henk. Much laughing (but no singing yet) and hugging later, we boarded our flight to Tenerife.

I poured my cricked and cramped body into my seat next to a young couple and their baby. There were many, many children on the flight (so there was not a lot of sleeping). But all of the children I encountered on this trip traveled so well. After a few conversation attempts involving a lot of gesturing, we figured out that the family spoke Spanish and I spoke English, but we managed to communicate well enough.  I made a new friend with the couple when I fished out my handy shaker egg to help calm the baby. (The descent was particularly rock as the babies ears began to pop. *sad face*) Costanza (seated in the row in front of me) translated that the mother told me I was “loveable” at the end of our time together.

The view of Volcano Tiede from the car

Three hours later, we landed in Tenerife and it was a short – and beautiful! – ride to our lodging. More reunions, hugs, kisses laughter, some food and some wine and my travels came to end.

Sunset on the night of my arrival

“[S]tudy the music profoundly … music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees.”
– Andres Segovia

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P.S. I’m on blog sabbatical (visiting the Canary Islands) until the new year. If you start to miss me, please peruse the archives or you can start thinking about your keyword for 2011. *smile* Happy New Year!