Leaving the Nest

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  Santa Rosalia, Spain
Monday, August 14, 2006

I'm cringing already, even before my bloodshot eyes are even open. Half remembered pictured fog my head inbetween the painful thumps of my heart pounding in my ears. I drag myself out from beneath the cool sheets and wipe the thick crust from my eyes. The Dancer already has coffee waiting for me. She knows. She had to do he same for the Pirate an hour earlier before he sailed off to some new port for a few days of looting and plumdering. I pack my bag with the few new aquisitions I have attracted in my short stay. This is the day I depart, not wanting to overstay my welcome with this fantastic family. I have to get to Madrid anyways. The Dancer has train times reaady for me as well as a map marked with the station and the shortest way to get there. She even offers to pack me a lunch. Such a sweet lady. She drops me off at the bus stop, gives me a hug, and I'm off again.
Getting on the train, I scam my way into first class undetected. A welcome change for me, after cramming onto the Moroccan buses and having to stand in the space between cars with no doors. Once train starts moving, I'm offered a glass of port and a magazine (!). A set of headphones is handed to me and I tune into the movie thats just starting. Some recent Peirce Brosnan flick so I tune it out mostly. No subtitles anyway. I click over channels, find a nice classical channel and start on some sudokus. A few hours relaxing in the plush seats, ample leg room for my mutant bones before a light tap on my shoulder. Immediately I think "I'm so fucked". Nope. Roast chicken with a mustard sauce and one of those cute little bottles of wine. I actually decline to drink from the bottle. See, Dad...I'm learning. 2 weeks ago I was exstatic if the coach had a/c. See how easy it is to resort to the level of primates again.
Madrid is easy to pick back up and I get to my hostel without incident. Sleep patters are still is shock so I find myself wandering the city for most of the night. I stop back in the Irish pub to talk to Kat. Might still be able to get a job here but it doesn't look promising. Supposed to stop back by tomorrow evening. I think its just Kats way of being sure she'll see me the next day.

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