so arrival at charles de gaulle airport went smoothly, as did check in at the vueling airline counter. i had taken all of my shoes out of my suitcase and was carrying them, instead, in my little totebag. magically, this seems to have done the trick; i didn’t get charged extra for my suitcase weight! good times! i arrived at gate 77 with almost an hour to spare, so i sat down and read a magazine. then i ate my last pain au chocolat. then i played a little nintendo ds. then i thought…why am i the only person sitting here at gate 77?
i checked the time. it was 11:45. my flight was at 12:10. something was wrong. what could it be? well, because this is me we’re talking about, the answer was simple: gate 77 was not the last possible gate in the terminal; it was the next-to-last possible gate. that said, naturally, my flight had been changed to gate 78—the last gate in the terminal—and i suppose this change had been announced en français. i discovered it only by wandering over to see what flight that was with its last passengers straggling into the jetway. why, it’s your flight, numbnuts. *sighs* paris just had to get one last dig in, didn’t it?
but fear not, kiddies. things brightened considerably, literally and figuratively, after that. click to behold my marvelous plane! ohhhh, it was so bright and cheery and happy! who could be in a bad mood riding on a plane like this? and watching a couple hours of things like “pimp my ride”—in spanish! the music channels were excellent as well, and my arrival in granada was accompanied by U2 singing “beautiful day.” as much as i hate to admit it, i got a little overcome, and i teared up. it was something about the song and the sun beaming through the windows and the welcoming warmth emanating from the place. i loved granada before the plane even touched down.
things went smoothly upon arriving, too. there were free maps waiting by baggage claim, and the bus into town was right outside of the exit doors. the driver told me my stop, and suddenly, there i was. in the middle of a lovely small city in the south of spain. i found mi dueña (apartment proprietor) without problem. she’s a nice japanese lady who owns a souvenir store. the little building she rents out, around the corner from the store, is a lot like a hostel. there are lots of students staying there, there are a couple of shared bathrooms, there’s a shared kitchen, and i have my own teeny little room.
in this room are a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, a nightstand, a small table, an electric fan, and, the pièce de résistance, a dorm-size REFRIGERATOR! i am inordinately excited about this refrigerator. i would go so far as to say i am enchanted by it. all my worries about people eating my food have been vanquished! all the inconvenient long walks to a kitchen for some cold water or a yogurt are over. do i care that it doesn’t really have a freezer? no. do i care that i have to pay an electric bill for its use? no. do i care that it’s about 95 degrees here in granada every day? hrrm. do i care that not a single atm or store in granada will accept my debit card? okay…yes. this is a problem. the issue of my job wanting to mail me some work is also a problem. i suppose there will always be problems. but i’m a clever girl. and it’s a beautiful day…
don’t let it get away