Siesta Siesta

This should have been my second post...this is an account of my first few hours in Spain :)

After 24 hours of travel and only two hours of sleep my eyelids fight the force of gravity that seems to have seriously multiplied at the beautiful Estacion Atocha in Madrid.

(Estacion Atocha: Train station in Madrid. They    

 have a beautiful forest in the middle of the station, complete with birds and turtles.)

The man sitting on the stoop beside me smells of sweaty feet and possibly urine. I not-so subtly spritz the 99 cent airport mouthwash under my seriously traveled arms and hunch over my backpack of electronics.

Spanish words, familiar and foreign, swirl around me eventually forming a word jumble that finally pushes my lids down.

My train station siesta (nap) is a tranquil dream world where I can understand everyone and my words don't evoke a face of total confusion. Unfortunately it is short lived. At first a nudge, then a poke, followed by a full on shake abruptly brings me back to the Estacion.

During the span of a seven hour flight I had gone from promising English teacher to mistaken sleeping homeless bum. As I was lifted to my feet by what I could only assume was a Spanish "rent-a-cop," I knew the surprises in Spain would be anything but ordinary... I hope the rest of them smell better.