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Homesick, Evidently
For my books, please go to Books Eight years ago, I was working and living in Spain, and at some point got really emo about the whole being away from home thing. I wrote this (which I re-posted with some edits) and it’s an honest feeling and reflection of that time. —— All settled in for the night, home alone. My clumsy raw lesson plan, all done. Green salad and scrambled eggs, the simplest recipe yet before bed. I look around, nothing special on my block already gone out for a long walk. Don’t feel like going out alone again even though nights are so lively in Spain A picture…
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That Time I Went to Oviedo
The year was 2012. I had planned to fly to Oviedo, in northwestern Spain, from Madrid. Two of the major economy airlines in Europe, Ryanair and EasyJet, often promoted low prices to that part of Spain — prices as low as 9.99€. Needless to say, flying would also be faster than taking the train or bus. We’re talking about potentially getting there in 45 minutes, as opposed to five hours by land. Ah, the beauty of European transportation… Before I go on with my travel adventure, let me tell you about the silly reason behind my trip. What really got me interested in visiting Oviedo was the movie Vicky Christina…
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Lost Bag
I always thought it must be an awful experience when an airline loses your bag, especially a bag with your most personal and expensive belongings, including any special souvenirs you purchased during your trip. I’d never had that problem; an airline has never lost my luggage—I lost it myself. First of all, I don’t know how it happened to me, how I lost sight of it, but here’s the story. One time, while returning home to the US from a year-long trip in Spain, I was carrying more baggage than my hands and arms could handle. My boyfriend, brother, and a friend were helping out — one bag each —…
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Winter in Ibiza
Ibiza off-season. The end. No, really, that should be the whole story. Nothing goes on in Ibiza in January — I think this picture was taken around January two years ago. Some bars and restaurants by the beach stay open, but very few people visit. It was a ghost town with just enough tourists to keep it alive. Despite it being so dead, it was much warmer than it was in Castile La Mancha, Spain, which is where I was living when I visited Ibiza, and definitely much warmer than it was in the US East Coast at the time. Looking at this picture reminds me how desperately I needed…
