Chicago to Barcelona
The journey begins!
With a direct flight from Chicago to Barcelona, one would think there is little room for error. And that assumption in generally correct... If you aren't the worlds pickiest eater flying on Pakistan International Airlines. As per usual, I quickly became comfy and timed my sleep schedule correctly so that my 8 hours would have me wakin up right in the morning Barcelona time and limit all jet lag. This meant I had plenty of time to watch some tv and eat dinner before my plane induced coma. To my surprise, the apparent 95-5 ratio of Pakistani to European or American was carefully considered because without even an option I was served a much less bland version of whatever curry smelling plane garbage the flight attendants were serving the rest of the cabin. I guess being blonde has helped defend my stomach when it doesn't always defend my intelligence. This point is brought up again later...
So finally to sleep, I searched for a blanket. None were passed out yet so I made do to cover my cold arms and ears with my wide thin summer scarf. Please tell me you see where this is going. By breakfast, I was not quite awake but someone had put my tray down and placed my bland breakfast in front of the picky blonde eater I am. Except, this meal was not bland. It was the strongest, spiciest curry chicken I've ever tasted. Needless to say I went hungry until we landed. Unfortunately my makeshift blanket was apparently hiding my blonde hair and in the dark almost looked like it was fashioned similarly to the headdress of the Pakistanis on the plane.
Another interesting note on flying on a 70% full dark plane with many similarly dressed people with veils- using the bathroom is a tricky affair. Half asleep I made my way to the loo and upon my return realized that I was in no way able to remember my row number. I walked up down the plane not recognizing any differences in women's faces (veils) and on top of that each person managed to switch positions and seats on the plane. Let's just say I walked up and down enough times for the flight attendants not to be worries about my behavior but long enough that people took pictures. Finally a nice woman asked me what my problem was and directed me to the seat next to her. I guess I'll blame it on being blonde.
Landed safe and found my bags... Not aware that the journey to my hostel would prove to be just as trying.
Tme to explore Madrid. Check in later for more additions to my tale! Xx