Last night I made poutine for my hosts. It was okay for poutine. I mean, it really was just fries, cheese and gravy, but it wasn’t awesome poutine. They ate it because they didn’t have anything to hold in comparison; I, on the other hand, ate it in silent self disappointment at failing my country. At the same time, it was fries and gravy so it seemed like the very thing that caused me grief mended my bruised heart. (Isnt that a line for an awful relationship.) durin the course f preparing the meal, the power cut out twice and I stood over a gas stove aimlessly stirring fries in hot oil in the dark. Not the safest thing to do but I figured it would lead to a cool story. The lights came on soon after though, so there wasn’t a really cool story.
After lunch today I wanted to come into Valencia but I was out of tickets. Going to the machine, I bought a round trip for one area, B. I had a hunch I’d be crossing into a second zone but in Vancouver I always bought the student priced, one zone ticket for $1.25 instead of the normal, three zone legal ticket for $3.25. So when faced with the option of 3€ tickets or 5€ tickets, I picked the 3. But I kinda forgot about the metro system here. You have to swipe your ticket to get into the train loading zone and again to get out. So, after happily clamouring up the many, many steps in the station, I tried my ticket and the gate did not open. Begin panic attack. I was trapped inside the train station. Thankfully, another chick -not a foreigner- new her way through the metro and rang the bell for information. I would have never touched that bell for fear of something incredible awkward ensuing. The metro-information-lady came over and after I sputtered some Spanish about how I just bought the ticket, she said “I speak English. What’s happened?” And then I was thankful for looking so not Spanish or even European because instead of getting the “you evil person tryin to fool the system” look and a fine, I got the “I pity you you naive tourist” look and help with upgrading my ticket.
Also, while on the train I thought I had been pickpockets because I did my quick presse of my jacket pockets and didn’t feel my wallet in the wallet pocket. Minor panic and then utter confusion followed by a mix of sadness and admiration was the result of finding that my empty pocket was zipped up as I usually have it. “Man, they’re good!” I thought. I was glad that if I had to have it happen to me, at least they were kid of enough to re- zip my pocket for me. Thankfully, I checked my other pocket before I burst into dramatic tears bad use of the English language; for in that pocket, next to my phone was my wallet. Oh happy Sarah! This event was followed by the ticket gate event followed by excited walking out of the station toward freedom and tripping twice. Up the stairs. This too was a semi- lucky moment because here were no people around to momentarily witness my awkwardness. Only security cameras documenting it forever.
Speaking of eternal documentation , I think when we make eye contact with a stranger for a brief second, there’s a little flash were our photographic memory takes a picture. It’s more effect when they are smack dab in the middle of yawning, eating, chortling, or blinking. (Have you ever made eye contact mid blink? Seriously awkward, people.) I seem to encounter these situations often and therefore I have a large album full of flash back moments of strangers in the middle of an unflattering moment. It’s like pausing the movie randomly and then laughing forever at the actor who is unfortunately frozen in the worst image.
Those were my random thoughts of the day. Hope you are all faring well, my loves.
Holy canelony somebody just walked by wearing half a bottle of perfume. But it was a guy so, “cologne” then.
Good afternoon/ evening (5:45 Spain time is like mid afternoon. Back home it’s like dinner time. So I’m just always confused about the time of day.)
All my traveling love,