Memories of Spain

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When I was 19 I studied abroad in Salamanca, Spain.  These are memories from that time...

I lived on Avenida Portugal.  The 7th floor of an old and beautiful building.  And much like a tract home in sunny So-Cal, all those ancient buildings looked strikingly similar.  I lived with a host family and another American student named Samantha.

I remember saying goodbye to my parents at LAX and my mom cried.  My dad had a dad's face that didn't look at all concerned, but in hindsight, I imagine it was killing him inside.

I wasn't at all scared for my semester-adventure.  I could not have been more excited, in fact.

I overpacked for that flight.  (I have since become an amazing 'essentials-only' packer.... but on that flight from LAX to LHR (London Heathrow) I overpacked).  I had my CD player, a million CD's, books, magazines, puzzles, snacks, water (back when you were allowed to have that...) a change of clothes....

I carried my beige backpack filled with half-a-million items that never saw the cabin room lights.  On that flight were a number of other students embarking for their studies in Spain, and we talked..... and talked..... and talked... throughout that long flight.

We stopped in London for a brief time before heading over to Madrid, Spain. 

Ahhhhh, Madrid. 

I have to tell you about Madrid...

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