Spain Chronicles: Arrival and Foreword

Arriving at Madrid’s Barajas Airport in stifling heat and in the middle afternoon is no way good for your orientation and your hair even if it is straight as a pin.. or so I’ve learned. But I’m here! And I’m on my own and as I reminded my mama when I called her from one of the booths as soon as the plane touched down, Dubai Airport remained standing despite my 5 hour sojourn there and I swore that all the passengers travelling with me departed from the plane with their limbs and lives intact. Oh, and I was fine too.

So, now all I have to do, is clear immigration which I managed with not too much trouble? Surprising, but maybe a Muslim girl travelling on her own is such a oddity that the guy at the counter thought it was a joke. Although it was just a little bit jarring when he asked if it was really my picture on the passport (Yes! It is abominable, horrible, Yucky!! and No! You can’t see it) and then, whether I was really a Pakistani? That caused some of the Indians, Africans and other assorted Arab nationalities in the line behind me to look at me kind of funny… U.S. Citizens and E.U. Citizens of course don’t stand in the same lines we do.

I know the airport is a little way outside the city and hence, as an afterthought and in a moment of misguided generosity had told my cousins that I would meet them at the Puerta del Sol, and get there on the metro straight from the airport. The metro is probably the most logical form of transport avilable in most European cities and their extensive networks mean convenience and a hell of a lot of fun too. I catch the Metro’s line 8 from Terminal 2 of the airport and in around 15 minutes am allowing myself to be carried out along with the other to the outside.

So, I’m there! Standing like a moron, in the heat, watching groups of tourists and backpackers amble past, tapping my foot restlessly and avoiding getting too worked up.. And ten minutes later, here come the dos senors (2 gentlemen! And I mean that in the best sense possible… not!) grinning ear to ear, one actually holding flowers. They’re still not forgiven despite their very convincing argument amidst welcome hugs, kisses, punches and slaps on the back that flights never get in on time and I’m early otherwise they would have been here.

And carry on we to walk, at least they walked tall and straight, one holding my single piece of luggage and the other the flowers while I drag along with them with the backpack on my shoulders homeward bound to a meal and some sleep. I’m tired and need sustenance and will get some 2 hours to eat, shower and sleep in that order. Why? Because the night is there to party and see amazing sights and I know these 2 brilliant people have planned my itinerary quite effectively… (They know I’ll kill them if I miss one item that I listed out for them.) And except for their occasional behavior that makes me doubt their human origins or place them as the missing link, they really are quite nice and very sweet… something that I will never admit it to them…

I can’t wait!!

I’ve been in Madrid 3 days now and am now on a train on the next leg of my journey and since using a laptop and headphones is the only way to drown out the droning rumbles,snorts and cacaphony of sounds emerging rather interestingly from Shahzi’s mouth, sleeping peacefully? beside me, I thought I might try and upload something for my blog. The only thing is that I’m an old-fashioned travel writer, snapping photographs and writing down all I’ve seen in an old style leather bound diary in my own writing. To try and sum up all that online is a little hard for me because it takes away the romance of what I’ve seen, what I feel and just what the overall experience is. However, for the millions and millions of the Rock’s… I mean my blog’s fans, I shall try. So far, just the first part of my arrival in Madrid. The actually story of course started with the night… So, till later!