I had sworn to myself to never travel again without organisation. New adventure.
I came to Madrid Airport seven days
ago with the intention of throwing a dart into the departure screen of Terminal
1, destination was supposed to the random. I was hoping not to choose any place
on the other side of the Atlantic, due to financial limitations. I was also
hoping not to go anywhere I’ve already knew, so I could stick with my principle
of traveling somewhere I’ve never been before once a year.
I found a desert screen, threw the
dart into it, sparks arose. I might have got finned, yet nobody was passing by.
I’ve visited the country before, yet the city was a new destination. Geneva.
The French-like cantons of Switzerland are just fancy and classy, because they
are French-like and not French themselves.
Mentality was more or less the
same, survival. Been checking the forecast for a few days, snowstorms are
expected. No short pants allowed, that just tears my soul. Bern, Salzburg,
Fussen, Graz, Wien, Prague and Verona were on the route, but words like
“fixed”, “planned” or “established” are not accurate to describe my itinerary.
Hitchhiking at its best. There were no time constraints, as there was no return
flight, booking it was on my to-do list. And then, romantic insomniac say
“sleep is for the weak”, I cannot assure that, but I can sure planning ahead is
indeed for the weak.
My arrival to Madrid Airport took
place on March 19th 2013 at 19:00 hours, few hours before the
flight. Same backpack, plenty of socks and underwear, few t-shirts, sweatpants
and a pair of jeans, old-dirty Converse, few spare bucks, documentation,
laptop, Kindle, mobile phones with their replacement batteries, camera, PS
Vita, lots of chargers and lots of cables. 31 hours without catching any sleep.
I had taken 6 exams that same day, which I required to be made on the same day
to have an early holiday start. I had a good playlist and access to some plugs.
Luke Rhinehart’s “The Dice Man”, the first two Sherlock Holmes novels, Emily
Bronte’s “Wuthering Heights”, some short stories by Horacio Quiroga,
Nietzsche’s “Thus Spake Zarathustra” and Hemingway’s “For Whom The Bell Tolls”
were featuring on the Kindle. Trimmed, 10-day beard to fight the cold.
I was supposed to arrive to Geneva
at night, spend the night in the airport and continue to the city in the
morning.
Mental Note: Buy deodorant, buy
apples, catch some sleep, making an appointment with the neurologist to check
how my Parkinson is progressing.
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