After two flights, two bus rides, and 45 minutes of sleep in 24 hours, I ended up at my hotel in Santander with enthusiasm but some deficits in my ability to reason. Add that to the plate of mussels and glass of wine I had for breakfast (hey, if my body is certain that it’s 10 am but the clocks all say it’s 4 pm, it’s 4 pm), you have the makings of a perfect day. I was happy to engage in meaningless small talk with anyone who made the mistake of glancing my way. People generally responded politely and no one called the police so I guess I did OK, although there was a woman on the bus who treated me as if I had some kind of cognitive impairment when she pushed the stop button for me when it seemed like I couldn’t figure it out. But honestly, I could have done it myself if she had just given me a minute.
In all these years of travelling to Spain, this is the first time I’ve experienced a solid, socked in rainy day all day. But I’m not on my bike, there’s no place I have to be and it doesn’t matter that all of my clothes are soaked, so let the trip begin!
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