Whether it was the language or navigation, I found in Barcelona at a disadvantage in both. I consider myself a fairly good navigator. In Barcelona, I could not get the directions right. I was backtracking all the time. Whereas Madrid is easier both linguistically and navigation wise. Perhaps it was my energy levels as well. I was exhausted when I arrived from Paris. I spent too much time and energy dealing with a difficult situation and my tolerance was at its lowest. On the train to Madrid, I had a breakdown- through about John. I just keep on grieving his absence in my life. It’s hard to put into words the bond we shared for so long. I miss him every day.
So back to Madrid. I am more comfortable here although my body is having a bit of a breakdown. My ankles are swollen and I am trying to reduce the sodium I am consuming as well as the amount of cigarettes I smoke. This is a habit that will be broken yet again upon my return back to the States.
The best thing about Madrid is that I am understood. So much so that people are speaking to me in Spanish even after I greet them or ask for something. Barcelona was NOT like this. In fact, all I would utter was, “Buenos Dias or Hola’ and they would say,”English” or just hand me an English menu.