Flying to Spain...again.

"Here I go again."

That's the thought that came to mind as I waited to board my flight from Chicago to Copenhagen. And at 10:05 pm, I was off.

The 8 hour flight was worse than I remembered. I was antsy, uncomfortable and couldn't sleep (that's what an aisle seat next to the bathroom will do to you). I suppose all of the excitement of my first international flight blocked that out of my head last time. (Do I sound as old as I think I do?) However, I did get to watch Harry Potter 7 Part 1, Catch Me if You Can and an episode of Glee thanks to Scandinavian Airlines 'On Demand' movie selection. Sweet. Seriously though, Scandinavian Airlines rocks and (American Airlines sucks comparatively). Bigger seats, better movies and better food.

Greek salad, mashed potatoes, beef, cheese, sea salt crackers, strawberry cheesecake and European Coca Cola.
Now that is what I call excellent plane food.

Second meal: sandwich, yogurt with granola and juice.

They also have an individual screen in front of your seat that not only plays the movie of your choice but ALSO plays live footage of the plane flying! I watched the plane take off and land from the pilot's view! Sweet!

Ok, enough about the plane.

I arrived in Copenhagen at 1:00 pm local time, had a short layover, and finally arrived in Barcelona at 6:00 pm local time. That makes for about 13 hours total travel time. Ugh.

But my travel woes soon vanished the first time I heard a stranger say, "Vale." (which means "OK" in Spanish). My head jerked up, my eyes brightened, and I suddenly remembered how much I love to speak Spanish and realized how much I had missed hearing it everyday. Even simple words like 'vale' and 'bocadillo' (sandwich) made me smile and feel excited to be returning to Barcelona. And as I sat on the plane and listened to Spaniards speak Spanish and Danes speak Danish (which sounds crazy, by the way) I reveled in the beauty of foreign language.

I also noticed how I felt different on the flight as well. This whole week I had been trying to get myself to realize that I was returning to Spain in just a few short days. Even sitting in the airport, ready to board the international flight, I but almost hit myself in the head trying to make myself focus on the fact that I was indeed flying to Spain. But I couldn't. No matter what I did, I just didn't feel like I was going. At first I blamed it on my lack of sleep. I thought for sure that when I arrived in Barcelona, it would feel like I was there.

But the feeling never came. Even now, I still can't honestly say that I am fully aware of my surroundings. But then another thought occurred to me. Perhaps the reason that it feels so different is because it is in fact different. Last time I was overly excited and anxious and my surroundings were absurdly new and different. However, this time I know what I'm doing. I have a hold on the language. I have now traveled fairly extensively. In short, I've been here before. And so it finally occurred to me that I never had that "oh my goodness!" moment where I open my eyes with butterflies in my stomach and realize the magnitude of my trip because this time it feels natural, comfortable and I daresay easy. (My goodness that makes me feel grown up). Now I do not consider myself to be a world traveler of any kind, but perhaps I am at least making progress to that end.

Anyway, with no trouble at all, I have indeed arrived in Barcelona. And now to step into the night, and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.