The Last Post.

Alright, here it is. The conclusion to all my travels. This is a sad blog. Here's what I can recall about my trip home: I woke up, packed my belongings, checked out of the hotel, caught the bus, caught the tube, and then I was at the airport. I got all checked in and everything and in the terminal by 11:00 or so. Of course there was "free public wifi" but I couldn't connect to it. So once again I was stranded chillin in the airport with no electronics. I went and got some food and a drink in an attempt to spend my last pounds. I exchanged my pounds and euros but ironically the exchange rate had gotten better, even within the last week, so I didn't get an even exchange compared to what I traded it in for. But I guess that's economics and just the way the world works. After that, I had killed enough time to go find my gate and sit there for awhile. Finally it was time to board and I was on my way towards the Western World!
Nine hours later we landed in Atlanta. The flight was fine. As the man who sat next to me put it "I've traveled alot for business and I've never seen anyone sleep the whole flight and still wake up for every food distribution." ... What can I say? I've got my priorities in line. When we got to Atlanta there were really bad storms so we had to sit on the runway waiting for a gate to pull into. We sat for quiteeeee a while. Long enough that I thought I was going to miss my connecting flight to Wilmington. Finally we pull into a gate, then I have to hike ten miles to go through passport control, reclaim my baggage, go through customs, recheck my baggage and go through security and catch a train to the next terminal. Then I kick it up a gear and literally sprint 38 gates down the terminal... only to find out that my flight to Wilmington was also delayed and would be boarding in about 2 minutes. I guess if I had moseyed on down I would have missed my flight but the sprinting may have been a bit unneccessary.
I wait at the gate for about 30 seconds and boarding begins. In my head I'm just like "yay, this is it, almost home!" We get on the plane and pull out onto the runway. Then we sit. For about an hour. The pilot tells us there's 15-20 planes in front of us (some sitting for over 2 hours) and we're just waiting in line. Apparently the storms were only to the south, so the pilot decides to go over to the runway that takes off north and within about 20 minutes, we're up in the air. That plane was the coldest plane I've ever been on in my life. Like I was wearing closed shoes, jeans and a North Face jacket and was still shivering. Possibly would have been hypothermic if the flight had been any longer. No worries though, I still slept. We get to Wilmington and Mom is there waiting. We got back to my apartment and went to bed (because 13 1/2 hours of being on a plane is a lot).
Now that I'm home it's weird. I keep thinking about what would I be doing at this time if I was still in Spain. What is my Spanish family doing right now? What is the weather like today in Ubeda? I miss it. I was unpacking my clothes and some of them still smelled like my Spanish casa. I had a little wave of homesickness. But then I think back to where I was before this trip. Not even sure if I wanted to go. I wouldn't even know where to begin to explain it all. Some of it's just inexplicable. The people I've interacted with, the friendships I have made, the places that I have seen, those experiences can never be replaced. And sure, with time the memories will fade, but I know that taking advantage of this opportunity and living in another country for a month has completely opened new doors for me for the rest of my life. And it's things like that, that can never be taken away. I know that one day I'll return to Spain. I love it too much not to. And the experience will be completely different. I can't wait.
But now that I'm home I guess I should finish up drinking this sweet tea and take my crazy dog to the lake in this 100 degree humidity. Nothing like being back in good ol' NC.