November 30, 2023
A few days ago, I had to do something I’d rather not do. But sometimes, plans change, especially when you live as a nomad.
I was supposed to fly from Tenerife to Seville on November 26th. I would enjoy an afternoon in one of my favorite Spanish cities before hopping on a midday train the next day to Mérida, a city that has been on my “must-visit” list for a few years.
But then a certain Irish discount airline messed up the works. They canceled my flight to Tenerife and delayed my return flight by one day. I was not too happy about the canceled flight. Rebooking with another airline was a bit pricey, and I had wanted to avoid a long travel day.
First, I had to check out of the resort where I had been staying and move to a place down the street. My resort was nearly booked, and I couldn’t bear to pay that much for one night.
Then, I didn’t sleep well on Sunday night. I rarely sleep well when I have a morning flight. I don’t know if I will ever overcome this.
There I was, wide awake at 3:00 AM when I could have slept until 6:15. And I didn’t get much of a breakfast because the restaurant wasn’t open yet.
At the airport, there was a short line to check my suitcase, so I had two hours to kill. At least the departure area was clean and relatively uncrowded.
The flight took off on time at 9:15 and landed on schedule at 12:35. I even caught a few winks on the plane. Not bad.
My train wasn’t leaving until 5:54, and I was looking forward to some time in Seville. I got an Uber to the train station, where I planned to deposit my suitcase in the luggage storage.
“We don’t have luggage storage here. We used to, but we don’t anymore. People ask for it all the time. There are a couple of private places nearby, though.”
Gee, thanks.
The first place I tried required measurements of my suitcase in centimeters. Then, I needed to download their app and get a special code for the self-service locker.
No chance! I’m not leaving my precious suitcase in a place that isn’t monitored by a human. And how would I know the measurements in centimeters, or even inches, for that matter?
I found another place and walked in that direction. That place must have gone out of business because it wasn’t there.
By this time, I was a bit frustrated, and I’m pretty darn stubborn. I would simply roll my beloved travel companion into downtown to a tapas bar I wanted to check out.
The tapas bar did not disappoint and was absolutely worth the walk. They specialized in gluten-free items, which made my heart sing. And it wasn’t just the typical Spanish tapas. This was gourmet stuff!
I noticed that the couple next to me appeared to be American, and she was gluten-free, too. At one point, we ended up chatting. They were on a two-week trip around Spain, culminating with their friend’s wedding near Madrid. I helped them plan their afternoon and thoroughly enjoyed the conversation.
After lunch, my suitcase and I rolled over to Las Setas. I had never seen this part of the city on my recent trips to Seville. (Las Setas is relatively new, completed in 2011. By the way, Las Setas means mushrooms in Spanish.)
In southern Spanish cities, where it gets unbearably hot much of the year, they find creative ways to make shade. This creation is the coolest (pun intended) I’ve seen yet!
On my stroll back to the train station, I stopped for a hot chocolate. The friendly bartender even gave me a discount. My day was getting better and better.
I noticed that my phone battery was low. So, I returned to the train station with ample time to charge it before getting on the train.
Satisfied with that, I stepped inside the bookstore at the station and noticed several titles in English. I picked up a good read for the three-hour-plus ride ahead. (Sometimes, you just want to feel the pages.)
The train left on time but arrived about a half hour late. It was closing in on 9:00 PM, and I was weary.
The Mérida train station was quiet. I had to call to get a taxi. So glad I speak Spanish.
The ride to my apartment was less than ten minutes. Ah…
But there was one problem: I was hungry! That tapas lunch was a long time ago, and I’m the kind of person who can’t sleep with a growling stomach.
I got online, and it looked like there was a decent grocery store not too far away—it was open until 9:30.
I walked through the dark, empty streets to see that the store had closed early.
Back online, I found another store that would be open until 10:00.
I arrived to find it was also closed.
On the route back to my apartment, I found a little convenience store. It would be popcorn, an avocado, and some turkey lunchmeat for dinner. At least I wouldn’t starve.
I had to believe the apartment had been empty for a few days because it was cold, colder than outside.
I finally got comfortable and fell asleep around 12:30.
I happily slept until 9:30 AM.
The next day, I loaded up on groceries including some of my favorite Spanish items. I would not go hungry for the rest of the week.
Wandering Shannon 