Landing in Frankfurt was hilarious as we are 77.4% certain our pilot was wasted. I know I was. *huge shout out to the flamboyant steward who served me multiple plastic cups of wine. All said and done we were lacking some sleep but light hearted and good natured about it all. Finding The Way Hostal proved quite easy.
Madrid has stolen my heart, the people and atmosphere is hypnotic. It's like Italy but cleaner (that's just a rumor I've heard but plan on running with). I've never been somewhere so effortlessly stunning. I couldn't help but feel like a sore thumb in my yoga pants and bun passing men with cuffed jeans and women accessorized to Chanel standards. The beautiful people run to Madrid, this is my theory.
Istavan and his wife were nothing short of a fairy tale, the meal was beyond my expectation and though the bed somewhat uncomfortable was warm and welcoming. Hot showers rock. Suffice to say I am cured of my dirty hippie desires. As I lay journaling and reflecting last night it occurred to me just how privelleged I am
It's going to sound crazy but so far I've been quite relaxed, I am currently on the top bunk of our bed, lulled by the thunder and [persistent] downpour, day dreaming of tomorrow's adventure. These past days have felt like a facade. I can't quite grasp how we can (contently?) life the way we do in Canada.
How have I gone so long without this?
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