Day One, Part One - The Arrival

I cannot begin to count how many days this day has felt like.

The daybreak over the Iberian horizon was breathtaking. My plane soared in over the Spanish plains, the sun rising to meet it, and slowly the rugged countryside of Galicia and eventually other regions were revealed in the growing light. I woke - if I had indeed slept - wracked with pain in my entire body, the inevitable result of curling up into unnatural positions that would allow me to lie as horizontally as possible in a vertical seat while still covering most of my body with a tiny blanket.

Breakfast smelled delicious, but was disappointingly meager: a mere croissant with a measly cup of yogurt. I ate it ravenously as the plane closed in on Madrid, and as our altitude dropped I could make out enormous orchards. Olives, I thought, and asked my Spanish seat-neighbor, "árboles de aceituna [olive trees]?" "Árboles de olivo" he responded. I was confused - was aceituna not the word for olive? I asked for clarification, and my neighbor explained that olivo is the name of the tree, but aceitunas are the fruit thereof. Not even on the ground and I was learning a lot.

On the ground was a new adventure. The Madrid-Barajas airport is a shimmering palace of steel and marble and glass. Everything gleams; even the ceiling, the rafters, and the floor. And it stretches on for miles. A subway ride of several minutes connected the arrival gate to baggage claim, and another ride of another several minutes connected to a terminal in the other direction. Interestingly, I met a fellow OU student on the tram, heading to Valencia. I forgot her name, but she's probably the last OU student I'll run into by chance for a very long time. Anyway... A man at customs didn't even look at my incomplete arrival form before mindlessly stamping my visa, so I may get a call in a few days asking me why I didn't have an address. We'll see.

I made my way to the Metro subway (which I shall heretofore refer to simply as the Metro) station and after spending 20 solid minutes poring over my Metro map and city map, finally made out how to get to my hotel. I hopped on the next subway and headed off.

On the subway car I was attracting an unsettling number of stares and I still don't know why. Maybe it's how I was dressed, maybe my hair was messed up, I have no idea. I could have been imagining it. Nevertheless I endured past the gazes and made it to the first station, where I followed the extremely easy-to-read signs and directions, seamlessly making my way to the next train. I boarded it and headed of to Gran Via, one of the city's major arteries and the main road closest to my hotel.

I emerged from the subway station into a new world. Recall that to this point I have been either in the airport or underground, so this was my first moment in the open air in Spain. I kept walking in the direction of my hotel, pretending to know what I was doing, but on the inside I was nervous and thrilled with my environs.

Shops everywhere. Street stands, people gathered talking and smoking, massive TV screens and banners - it was everything a major world city is supposed to have. But unmoved from my determination to find an apartment as soon as possible, I made for my hotel and set to work.