STUMBLE: ...and fall

Have you ever been so desperate and confused as to what to do that you wanted to just break out in tears? Well I have! In fact it was on my first actual day in Spain. Even though I actually almost missed my flight to Spain due to a delay in Austin I made it to Spain at 9:55am Sept. 21, 2011.

Things started off very smoothly- We landed early, I breezed through immigration, and my bags were the second ones off the conveyer belt so by the time I left the airport I was feeling pretty good. Well, that feeling did not last for long. I had planned to meet some friends in Madrid and decided that I would take the metro since I only needed to transfer twice and the metro stop was one block away from our hostel.

GOSH! I’ve made a lot a bad decisions in my life but that definitely goes down as one of the worst. Picture this, me with a large roller duffel bag (51.8lbs) a smaller carry-on duffel bag (30lbs) and the best purse in the world (10lbs) shuffling through the Madrid metro. Not that bad right? I can walk as slow as I need to, hop on the train, make my transfers, and exit the station to walk the necessary block and then I’m there. That almost sounds like joke to me now.

First of all, the Madrid Metro is not a handicap accessible so that means they don’t have to provide an alternative to the dozens of stairs you have to climb and descend to get to your stop. So for me, that meant I had to drag my 90lbs of luggage up/down 7 different sets of staircases to successfully transfer. And I’m not talking about 5 or 10 stairs at a time. NO. I’m talking about 15-30 stairs at a time. And to make matters worst- I happened to be traveling on the Metro during rush hour in the most populated city in the country. AWESOME! So not only were there NO seats, but people are crammed in like sardines so they can make sure they arrive to their destination on time. This means they are definitely not interested in accommodating the semi-lost American girl with 90lbs of cumbersome luggage. But after 2hrs on a 
metro trip that should have taken 30mins I finally arrived to my street exit.

I lugged my bags up the last (or what I thought would

be the last staircase) and walked along the corridor towards the sunlight. Then I saw it. 45 stairs between me and Metro freedom.

I literally dropped my bags to the ground and covered my face to try and hold back the tears I felt welling up in the back of my throat. I was already sore (see previous post) extremely tired because I did not sleep on the flight, hungry, and tired from the past few hours of lugging bags up/down the stairs in the Metro interior. Now I know that I could have probably packed lighter, but I want you to try and pack for 10 months for a country that you know you won’t be able to find your shirt and pant sizes and see how many items you leave behind.

So there I was; luggage on the ground and hands on my face. When out of nowhere a very slender man came up from behind and said, Necesitas ayuda? (Do you need help) SI? And grabbed both my bags and carried them both up in one smooth motion and dropped them at the top of the staircase as he continued his conversation with the beautiful Spanish women he was walking with. It happen so quickly I didn’t REALLY have time to react and barely said "GRACIAS" before he was gone. That wasn’t the first time in my life when I’ve felt totally desperate, confused, and ready to breakdown when God swoops in and sends me an Angel to carry my baggage.

(check out more pics at : 
http://photobucket.com/andarconmigoOCTOBER)