Madrid, Spain: ¡Adoro España! (Part 1)

At the beginning of our semester in England, I sent Bill an email that said something like this:

"I found cheap flight tickets to Spain and Germany. Between Munich and Madrid, which city would you rather see?"

Keeping my fingers crossed for Munich, I was shocked when Bill replied,

"Both."

From that point on, I began planning a crazy month of non-stop European travel. Besides squeezing in flights to Madrid, Munich, and Rome with Bill, Craig and I had already planned a 9-day tour of London, Paris, Brussels, and Bruges (also in Belgium). Needless to say, I'm going to desperately need three weeks of Christmas vacation back home just to catch up on some sleep! Sleep aside, touring six European countries in 20 days is one opportunity that I'd never pass up!

Kicking off our tour of Europe with a weekend trip to Spain, Bill and I faced an obstacle that seems to haunt us wherever we go -- catching flights on time. Giving ourselves an hour and a half to check in and walk through security, I assumed that we'd have a few minutes to spare before boarding the plane. Unfortunately, I failed to imagine all of the things that can possibly go wrong at an airport ticket desk and factor the delay into our arrival time. Between slow lines and a few high-maintenance passengers ahead of us, Bill and I grabbed our tickets only five minutes before the boarding time and dashed to the security check. Like most security checkpoints, the long winding lines in London Gatwick Airport are no exception. Beginning to freak out about missing our flight, I anxiously shifted from foot to foot while watching minutes slowly tick away on my watch. Eventually reaching the metal detectors, I threw my shoes, loose change, and backpack into a security bin and prayed that I wouldn't need to be patted down by a security officer. Breathing a sigh of relief as I darted through the metal detector without setting off any alarms, I shoved my feet into my shoes, grabbed my bag, and rushed to the nearest display screen to figure out which gate I needed to sprint towards in order to catch my flight. Making a mental note of the gate number, I grabbed Bill from the security checkpoint and began running towards Gate 17. With calves burning, we arrived at the departure gate out-of-breath but thankfully on time. Stashing our bags in the overhead compartment, I sank into my seat and tried to slow my pulse from the sudden adrenaline rush. After a frantic hour of worrying, I finally began to relax and revel in the fact that we were on our way to Madrid!