For now.

These were about an hour outside of Madrid. It was April 21, 2022. Told you it’s been an unusually cold spring.

I knew there would be a lot to do at the airport, so I got here 4.5 hours early. Good thing.

I had to wait in line to get a COVID test then wait for the results. Then I waited in line to check in, then the line for security. I waited for the train to change terminals ( you don’t check in to the same terminal you fly out of; go figure) then in line at passport control. All the while there are announcements that due to increased security measures passengers to the US must be at their boarding gate two hours before departure. I made it with 42 minutes to spare.

On the way to the gate you are forced to walk through a shopping area.

You can’t fly back to the states w/o a negative COVID test, citizen or not. I just paid 50€ for the rapid antigen test. 50€!!! You figure every person on that flight has to have one, and every other flight also, and we are into serious money.

My house rented. Finally! However the tenants want an unfurnished rental. I have to come back and sell/store everything.

I was able to change my flight w/o cost and my cousin’s wonderful daughter, Keelie, is picking me up from the airport tomorrow. The bus from Pola de Allande arrived in Tineo in enough time for me to go to the toilet. Now I just have 25 shivering minutes until the bus to Oviedo arrives.

And in my defense, Spain is having an unusually cold spring. This was the day before yesterday.

The bus from Madrid was late, and I barely made my connection. I’d gone seven hours without a bathroom break, so once I got the right bus I headed for the WC. As I was washing my hands I heard a call that a bus was leaving, and I realized I had not gotten my bus #. So I picked one that seemed to be in the right place, and the driver waved me on. And I’m sitting here telling myself that if it was the wrong bus he would have checked my ticket. So it’s not the wrong bus. it’s not the wrong bus. Please God let it not be the wrong bus.

“Go ahead and wear white,” I thought. “How dirty can you get sitting?” I thought. Antonio better never travel with me unless I’m wearing plastic.

Last time, though I had never been on Camino, I was marked as a pilgrim. I knew from shopping at REI that would mean something to people. I knew a network existed to help me if I could just get close enough. But now…I don’t have that. I even took the shell off my mochilla.

I’m sitting in Easterwood Airport waiting to fly to Dallas. My big mochilla is checked, I hope not all the way to Madrid or the only clothes changing tomorrow is my underwear and socks. I’m seriously nervous and I had to ask Antonio to tell me everything is going to be fine. He’s learned I need that sometimes. I forgot the script I’m supposed to be editing but I have my contact juggling ball. I may practice in a bit.

Right now I’m trying to calm my nerves and make a plan. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Antonio was supposed to leave three weeks before me, and even though he could have done nothing if I had a problem, flying toward him is a very different proposition from flying away.

Mom and I got Shiraz Shish Kabob before dropping me off. I may have some. Back in a bit.

Btw, flight has been delayed AGAIN. (Third time?) Leaving at 4:15 instead of 2:30. Boo! I could have finished Encanto.