The night before our flight to Spain, I had trouble sleeping.

I had stayed up much later than I should have writing about our trip to Mexico and then transferring photos and putting it all on Facebook (the internet). After that I sent emails. And of course it all took much longer than it should have.

When I finally got to bed, I kept mulling over how we were going to get the four suitcases from the locker to the check-in. That was something that I hadn’t thought about when I had the bright idea to just check the suitcases into a locker.

I finally decided that it would be easiest to take a taxi. It had only cost $6.00 to get to the hotel and I thought that it should be cheaper coming from the hotel. So I slept a little, but not deeply. I also didn’t give us as much time to get ready in the morning as I had previously planned, because I wanted to get at least seven hours of sleep, which I almost did.

And of course everything took a little longer than planned. When we went to check out of the hotel they said that a taxi was $10 and that we should take the shuttle which was ready to leave right then. So we did.

The driver was a mute and was not great with communication. I asked him if we could stop at the lockers and then continue to the check-in. I thought he understood me and would wait for me. So when we stopped at the gate near the lockers, I left Freddie, along with my coat with our passports, most of my money and all our carry-ons except for my purse. I ran all the way down to the lockers. The man charged me an extra $40, which at first I couldn’t scrape up from what I had in my pants pockets. He wouldn’t give me our suitcases until I had paid more money because it had been over 24 hours. When I checked them in I had been assured that “no pasa nada”, that it wouldn’t matter that I would pick them up after 24 hours, which I knew I would. But the reality was that I nearly didn’t get the suitcases back in time for the flight. Finally I came up with enough money and I hired a man to take the suitcases and to run with me back to the van. That took the last of my money!

But the Ramada van that brought us wasn’t there waiting for me. Another Ramada van came and said that he was the only Ramada van. I said no, because I had just been in the one with the mute driver. The new van driver then drove me easily to the Iberia check-in, which wasn’t that far away.

I looked for Freddie, whom I thought might have stayed on until the Iberia terminal, but he wasn’t there. I took the suitcases up to check-in but I couldn’t check in because I didn’t have our passports. There I saw some of the other passengers from the van and they told me that Freddie had gotten off where I did, at the lockers.

Frantic, I asked for a wheelchair to go look for Freddie at Puerta 4, where the lockers were. A nice man who had been on the van with us offered to go with the wheelchair man looking for Freddie. Off they went. I nervously went to the door hoping that they had already found Freddie. Then I went back to the ticket counter and asked them to call the wheelchair man to see if they had found Freddie.

Not sure what to do, I went to the door again. And there on my left, leaning, heavily on his cane, came Freddie walking with an airport attendant. He had gotten off where I did, not understanding, like the driver, that I was coming right back. All alone, he had told an airport attendant “Spain” and they walked him Iberia. On the way, Freddie had fallen on the escalator and hurt his left arm, his good arm! They had offered to call a doctor but he said no, afraid that he would miss the flight.

We did make the flight.

Once in the air, I was afraid that Freddie’s arm was broken because of his intense pain. The flight attendant put in a call for doctors on the plane and three showed up. One took control and he decided that Freddie’s arm was not broken. He suggested that we support it with a sling and so we made a sling out of my shawl. Freddie took more of the pain pills he had bought in Mexico and drank some gin.

Our flight was wonderful. We ate and then slept. The seats stretched out flat and were the most comfortable international flight seats we had ever experienced.

When we arrived at the airport our friends Stephanie and Javi met us and we were amazingly able to fit all the suitcases and all of us into Javi’s car. First we drove to our apartment and deposited the suitcases. The apartment won’t be available for us until tomorrow but Angel had told us that we could store our suitcases until we move in. The hallway had been painted white and everything looked very neat and clean.

Next we went to Javi’s house in Sanlucar Mayor, a pueblo just outside of Sevilla, in the country. Here we ate and then slept. And now I feel the jetlag coming on. We have called a few people but I am too tired to call more.

It rained in Mexico city, and now it is raining here too. Last week the weather here was marvelous I knew. It seems as if we are bring the rain.

Tomorrow morning Freddie and I both get massages here at Javi’s house. Hopefully Freddie’s arm will get better quickly and he will feel good and strong again.

In the afternoon our apartment will be ready for us to move into for the first week. We will be there for the first part of the famous Feria de Sevilla. Freddie has never seen it. I saw it in 1980 and hear that it is very different now.

After our first week we stay with Cihtli and Ethan until May 1st, when we can move back into the apartment without more interruptions.

Right now we are enjoying a relaxing entry into Spain in the country at the home of friends. It is strange to be guests instead of hosts. But it is nice.