Toledo in Seville: New places, new friends

Photo credit: Ailys Toledo/The Beacon

Ailys Toledo/Columnist

After a not-as-grueling-as-I-thought-it-would-be flight to Spain, Matthew Young and I landed in Madrid for a two-hour layover to Seville. The airport in Madrid is bigger than any other airport I have ever been to! Getting from one terminal to another takes no less than 30 minutes. I knew this because every time I would turn a corner, I would see a sign reminding me that Gate H is still a 20-minute walk away.

I forgot to mention last week about the first friend I made from Spain. His name was Jesus. Matt and I met him while waiting to board our flight to Madrid in Miami. Jesus is a pharmacy student who was in Miami for a certification test. Perhaps it was his amazingly good looks or the distinguished accent, but I was smitten. All I could do was stare at him as he talked about the beauty of Andalusia and as he gushed about the fabulous wine and food. I was quiet for the majority of the conversation, which was quite a surprise. I remember thinking: “If this is the kind of man that awaits me in Spain…I will never leave.” Jesus was impressed by my Spanish, too, which I mentally gave myself points for. Then he mentioned his girlfriend back in Scotland, which made a little part of me die inside. Regardless, I was so happy to have made my first Spanish friend. I was also relieved when he stayed with Matt and I and helped us around the airport in Madrid. I will never forget Jesus and I hope he never forgets me.

After Jesus and I said our bittersweet (at least for me) farewell and went our separate ways, Matt and I wandered aimlessly through the airport until we went back to our gate. Once we got there, I immediately recognized others from the group. I was reacquainted with Analia and Melissa, who were rooming together, and also Doris and Nicole, who were rooming together as well. I talked with Melissa about her solo traveling plans once the program was over and shared Goldfish snacks with Doris. Although we were all exhausted from the flight, excitement and anticipation to get to Seville was brewing and we all could not wait to start this amazing adventure.

The second flight to Seville was no big deal. It was a short, two-hour flight so we were in a small plane. The flight was empty, so I got to have a whole row of seats to myself. I used this as an opportunity to catch up the much-needed sleep I didn’t get on the flight to Madrid. The true shocker was arriving to the airport in Seville. It was so small and dingy compared to the major airport in Madrid! I thought back to the airports I am most familiar with back home, Miami and Ft. Lauderdale, and realized I was definitely not in the U.S. anymore. Picture me saying in my best Judy Garland impersonation, but instead of carrying around a cute dog named Toto, I am lugging my ginormous luggage and carry-on through a depressing airport. By the way, do not make the same mistake I did and take a carry-on with no wheels. Your shoulders, no matter how strong you may be, are no match for the walk through airports, streets, and hotels.

So I made it to Seville! Finally! Waiting for us at the airport was Clarissa Reyes, our unofficial, official tour guide to Spain. I could tell from the silk scarf she wore around her neck and the matching colored blazer that this woman meant business, and I was right. She and her daughter were kind enough to give us all a ride to the apartments where we would be staying for the majority of our time in Spain. During the drive there, she gave us important information about how to use our prepaid cellphones, easy directions around our neighborhood, and the plans for a cocktail party later that night.

 I wish I could say that I was paying attention, but I was not. I was too infatuated by the sights around me. Seville was so unlike any place I had ever seen. From my right window, I would see the prettiest parks surrounded by urban office and apartment buildings. Then to my left, I would see winding roads leading to cozy cafés and shops.

The moment I knew this is where I belonged was when we got to our neighborhood, Plaza de las Cruzes. In English, this translates to “Plaza of the Crosses.” True to its name, our little neighborhood was decorated with iron crosses everywhere. I will never forget the instant connection I felt when I got there. I will forever be enamored by my charming city of Seville; it was my home away from home.

life@fiusm.com

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