A Swede in Spain: A Swede in...Portugal!

Surprise! I am now a Swede in Portugal. This last week has flown by in Spain. I'll try and do a quick catchup and then explain today's crazy crazy day.

Monday-Last day of conversation class and studying for Civ and Lit.

Tuesday-Taking said Civ and Lit finals. I felt really good about them! I think it helped that a lot of things that we learned were relevant to trips that we took so I could remember them easier.

Wednesday-Graduation and a pool party at the Martinsen's!

Thursday-Beach trip to Valencia! And I got a nice tan if I do say so myself. Maybe my Tom's tan won't be as bad now?

the beach!

myself and a lovely fountain!

Friday-Today was the big day; moving out of Alcalá and heading on to Portugal!!! And after this trip (my study abroad in general but today especially) I've decided my new life motto is "Attitude is the only difference between an ordeal and an adventure". I daresay that today was both an ordeal and an adventure. Here we go.

We packed up and after one last lecture from María about how I should've paid for my keys that were STOLEN from me and a besito-less goodbye, we made it to the airport. I had been feeling kind of queasy last night/this morning but put it off as stress/lack of sleep. Well. After checking in, we had to take a bus to our teeny tiny plane that would take us to Portugal. And all of a sudden, black spots blurred my vision. I thought maybe I was locking my knees, so I bent and flexed them, but it continued and then my ears clogged up. I turned to Rachel and said "I need to sit down!" and she got up right away because apparently all the color drained from my face and I looked like death warmed over. And then I dry-heaved and threw up some water over the floor of said bus. Whoops. But since it was mostly water we just left it and got on the plane.

about to board onto said teeny tiny plane.

A lovely flight, all in all...but then. As we're about to descend, I get that same feeling that I had on the bus...except my knees are definitely bent. And then I projectile vomit all over myself and my backpack on the floor and only about 50% makes it into the bag that I had. All right. I call out to Rachel "Help!" even though I know there's nothing she can do, but it turns out that I vomit rather quietly and she was asleep. It was only my cry for help that woke her; and what a sight did she wake up to.

In the end, I got cleaned up okay, but I had to carry around my backpack in the plastic bag of shame for the rest of the day. I was very embarrassed. I hoped that maybe it looked like a carseat but as Rachel wisely pointed, we had no baby with us. Darn.

the bag of shame.

But then we made it to our hostel, met some awesome friends, ate the world's greatest chocolate cake, and called it a night a little early after our crazy day.