I didn’t expect much for my first night in Madrid. I had spent the night at the London Luton airport due to my ridiculously early flight to Spain.
Here’s a tip: Luton is not in London, so don’t let the name fool you. It’s far, far away. You’re much better served to just eat the added costs and fly out of Heathrow or Gatwick. You can put a price on convenience my friend,
and that price is the difference between Heathrow and Luton.
I’ve never been one to pull an all-nighter and then power through the day like a super hero. I’m kind of a baby when it comes to sleep. Anything less than 7 hours and my functioning is subpar. If we get into the 6 hour range I become rather zombie-like and any productivity goes out the window. I’m best left just staring blankly out said window.
So naturally I’m not expecting much on my first night in Madrid. But here’s the thing – something very strange takes over my body when I am in this country. It’s like I was Spanish in another life, and when I’m here the cells of my body (and liver) recognize this and immediately transform into something strong and powerful. I become indestructible. It’s an amazing thing to witness.
So I had a siesta (duh, Spain), a snack and a shower then went with Lana to a friend’s apartment where we spent a good 3-4 hours before heading out to the discoteca, on a Wednesday, around 2:30AM. A bit of an early start, but we were eager to dance. We came home at 8AM. Yeah, son!
Who’s the grandma now, biatch?