How to get from San Francisco to Granada in 12 easy steps

1) Spend your last night in America wisely.
Dinner at the parents' house with the whole fam, including Grandma, which was lovely. Also, Mom's potato salad? YES PLEASE. Then back to the house to finish packing.

Believe it or not, THIS (and more) all fit into one suitcase. With room to spare. DAMN I'M GOOD.

Around the time my sister went to bed (Me: "So do you want to wake up and see me off when dad comes to pick me up at five?" Her: "...Um. Why don't you just.. come to my room and hug me goodbye? I can't promise to be awake, but I can promise to let you!"), best-man-friend Andrew came over. Not only was it good to get some friendy time, but we also got to make an In-N-Out run before I went gallivanting off to a land where there are no Double-Doubles. Seeing as how that adventure ended around two, I found myself with three hours left before airport time and things still left to do.  I made the mature and responsible decision to all-night it. After having only three hours of sleep the night before, and three connecting flights ahead of me...

Well. You're only young once.

2) Watch the sun come up over SFO.

With the generous help of my parents, I and my artfully crammed bags were deposited at the San Francisco International Airport just before sunrise. We made some brief but sincere goodbyes, and then I was off to navigate the necessary steps to pull off this, my first ever international flight. Once through security I sat in the terminal, sleep-deprived and staring into space, waiting in vain for it to start to feel real.

3) Flight the first: SFO -> IAD.

Six uneventful hours. I was fully prepared but as yet unexcited; sleepy but unable to sleep. I watched several episodes of 30 Rock and felt absent of feeling.

4) Layover the first: Washington, D.C.

The last hour I spend in America for months, and it's all under fluorescent lighting. Blech.

Because the refinedness of my humor is inversely proportional to my seratonin levels, I was determined to get a danish for my flight to Copenhagen. (Hilarious, right? I thought so too. Too bad it was DISGUSTING.) Also pictured: wretchedly overpriced yogurt parfait, beloved water bottle.

I also got my last chance to send out text messages. Shouldn't have been a big deal, but I am spoiled in that my bestiest-best-best friend and I are pretty typically attached at the keypad, and the idea of being thousands of miles away from her without that as a lifeline was kinda giving me the junkie shakes. But when boarding time came, I turned off the phone for good and all, not to be used for the next four months.

5) Flight the second: IAD -> CPH.

Question: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME HOW AWESOME EUROPEAN AIRLINES ARE? Hands down the most fabulous airplane-related experience of my life. I flew SAS, and they just would not stop giving us free stuff. Two free meals, two free beverages, a water bottle, a blankie, and an endless supply of instant-view movies? Don't mind if I do.

My first legal drink, at a few thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean. Red wine, cause I'm classy like that.

I made a friend on the airplane, a world-travelly Romanian woman heading to Copenhagen for her Master's degree. She was absolutely fantastic, and since she doesn't deserve to have her name misspelled on the internet, I won't put it here, but she taught me a million things about traveling in Europe and made the eight hours pass even more pleasantly. If you're reading this: thanks, and good luck!

6) Layover the second: Copenhagen, Denmark.

No longer in America? Why isn't this more exciting? Also, why is Denmark so friggin' expensive? Five dollars for a bag of M&Ms, I mean really. And that's when the travel thing started to get a little old.

7) Flight the third: CPH -> AGP.


Ok, guys. That first flight was fine, and the second one was fun in parts, but this airplane thing is just not cute anymore. Nope, I'm done. Especially cause all these Danish babies (why are so many Scandinavian flights so densely populated with children?) keep screaming and screaming. Also, the little girl to the left of me with the portable DVD player is on her ninth straight episode of Danish-dubbed Dora the Explorer and I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE ARE WE THERE YET ARE WE THERE YET

8) Escape the Málaga airport.

I landed, and try as I might I still could not for the life of me get my head around the fact that I was finally there. Espain! My final destination! Or, just another airport.

I did manage to gracefully handle one of the more insanely nerve-wracking experiences of my life, which was... reassuring? (You know how as you're waiting at the baggage carousel for your checked suitcase to show up, and you always feel like yours won't show up? Yeah, me too. Silly, right? Except my luggage really didn't come. Everyone from my flight walked away with their luggage, the carousel stopped, and there I was trying in a panic to calculate how long I could live off of what I had in my carry-on. Ten minutes later, I found my bag in customs. Gaaaaaaah. But. All's well that ends well.)

I then met up with Roz, my freshman year roommate who's studying abroad with me. Both totally overwhelmed from traveling, we were super psyched to find each other thousands of miles from home. With stuttery Spanish, we grabbed a taxi to the hotel where we were meeting our group.

The first picture of me taken in Spain. Excitement tempered with the most exhaustion I have ever felt.

9) Spend one night at the Hotel Puerta Málaga.

Meeting Roz at the airport was absolutely a joy and a relief, but meeting Ariana at the hotel was bordering on magical. Ariana, among my closest college friends and one of the few people on the planet who I've discovered I can't get tired of, is not only also doing the Granada Advanced Spanish program (YAY), but is going to be my roommate for the whole semester. (QUADRUPLE YAY.)

There are a gabillion aspects of this study abroad experience that would probably have made me nervous or anxious for months beforehand that never even crossed my mind because I knew I would be here with her. Making friends? Dealing with homesickness? Integrating into the social structure? Avoiding emotional isolation? It ain't no thing! I got mah gurl!

We were ok with seeing each other again. I mean, it wasn't that awful. We dealt with it.

We then went exploring in Málaga, and I had my first Spanish meal. We also got extremely extremely turned around on our way back and ended up taking two hours getting somewhere that should have only taken us fifteen minutes (AND we had a map-- last time I trust Ari's "sense of direction," let me tell you), but even though I was tired enough to pass out and needed to pee like you would not believe, it was still a blast. Together, at last! In Spain! Really can't complain.

BONUS: In Málaga, the main street is called La Calle Marques de Larios. Named for the Spanish nobledude of that title. Who, oh I don't know, happens to be my great-great-great-grandsomething. There's also a statue of him outside the plaza. No big deal, y'all.

TOLD YOU I WAS SPANISH.

10) Get oriented.

I was taken to get a cell phone, given maps and forms and lists of tips galore, and shown a bunch of PowerPoint slides whose contents can be accurately summarized with the sentence "USE COMMON SENSE." Another country? Another culture? Another language? Bring it on, says me!

11) Take a bus from Málaga -> Granada.

I considered using that hour and a half on the bus to make bestyfriends with some or all of the 94 other people traveling with us. Or to sleep. Instead, I introduced myself to like three people, immediately forgot all of their names, and spent the rest of the time chatting furiously with Ariana. It's ridiculous that I can spend as much time with her as I do and always want to spend more. I am so lucky to have her.

12) Arrive in new home.

We met up with our new familia when the bus dropped us off in Granada. One madre, probably in her fifties, and her daughter, in her late twenties. My jetlag and general exhaustion prevented any extraordinary clarity of understanding, but the vibe of extreme warmth is the same in every language, and I know already that I like them very much. One short taxi ride and lugging of suitcases later, we arrived in the apartamiento that will be our home through December. Ari and I share a room (with a STRONG decorative theme of Very Pink With Lots of Stuffed Animals), and though it's small it's certainly homey. I sense good things from this place.

I've been here for about a week, and between the EIGHT FRIGGIN' HOURS A DAY of our orientation classes, and the scads of structured activities the program has been leading us through, my downtime has been more or less nonexistant.

But! I now have regular access to internet! Maybe I will ever have time to use it! Wish me luck. (Or, if it's that important to you, wish yourself luck.. that I might grace you with my writings. Or something.) Much love to my homies, both at home and abroad. I miss you all, mucho mucho mucho.

Anyway! Heyguesswhat?

I live in Spain. AY CARAMBA.