Purgatory

When i got to NYC, I was still unsure of whether my flight to spain was still in operation. I also realized that I had flown into LaGaurdia and was flying out of JFK on my next flight. I fortunately had a several hour layover, so was able to take a shuttle to JFK. When I checked into Iberia airlines, I was told it was the only airlines currently flying to Europe and my flight was the first to go. What luck! The downside to that was the fact my flight was the only flight, and thus was booked solid. I am a window seat kind of girl and got stuck with an aisle seat (at least it wasnt a middle seat, that may have been a deal breaker). Fortunately, however, the Italian couple next to me preferred sitting in each other´s laps instead of the seat next to me, which left me with quite a bit of room. Although I´m normally not a huge fan of PDA, it really worked about this time.

I made it to Madrid and onto the metro with my Samsonite suitcase, my bookbag, and a purse stuffed with shoes because my suitcase was apparently five pounds overweight. After what seemed like thirty metro line changes, I made it to my final destination and was heaving my bag up the stairs, when a nice Spaniard saw my plight and offered to help me with my suitcase. When I got to the top of the stairwell, the first sign I saw was ¨sex shop¨ in blinking neon lights. This obviously gave me pause, and I began to curse the hostel.com website that assured me I was going to be in the ¨heart¨ of the city. The good news is that when I asked for directions, I was still a good mile or so from my hostel. This bad news was that I was still a mile or so from my hostel.

As I was dragging my bags up what appeared to be the steepest street in Madrid towards my hostel (after coming full circle thanks to a taxi drivers sketchy directions or the fact something got lost in translation thanks to my excellent Spanish, whatever....), I had a minor ephiphany. This trip is an embodiment of my current stage in life, my late 20´s. I´m really too old to do the true ¨college¨ backpacking experience- walking around Europe in the same wrinkled clothes and shoes that don´t match, but I´m really too young (mainly just too poor) to do Europe the grownup way- in taxis and hotels with bell captains. I´m willing to cut some corners at this stage of my life (lugging suitcases onto metros, sharing rooms and showers with complete strangers), but I will not wear the same outfit day after day or shoes that do not match (hence the 60 lb suitcase accompanying me on my ¨backpacking¨ journey). I´m once again stuck in the purgatory of your late 20´s- too old to be young, too young and poor to be old, hiking up a mile-long hill in 3inch heels, lugging a giant suitcase behind me.

I finally made it to my hostel, dropped of my stuff, freshened up in the communal bathroom and spent yesterday morning sipping a cappucino and eating a croissant con chocolat across the street from the museo del Prado. I may be in purgatory, but life is still pretty good.