Made it to Barcelona.
Turns out I was at the wrong terminal, but I figured it out.
I sat next to a sneezy, crying girl about my age and I helped her out with some
tissues, so that was good! Then we landed, my luggage actually made it!
Hallelujah!!! I made a ridiculously bad money exchange because it is Sunday so
no banks for me. Then I hopped in a taxi
and told him where I was headed, some nice Irish man helped me carry my bags up
the stairs and I checked into my hostel.
So far I have informed the family that I am alive, gone to a
convenience mart, bought a pizza (that wasn’t really that good), been
questioned by the hostel guy as to why I am not adventuring yet, and met one of
my Meddeas peeps.
So here I sit blogging, waiting
for the others to appear, because it is starting to get darker and I’m too
afraid to go it alone.
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