Home Again Home Again

Soft in the early hours, a warm bright Barcelona day began.  Four open suitcases, mostly packed, sat around in the corners of our rooms as we showered, washed the last sheets, ate a little bread and organized our last coins and Euros. The construction on the street was quieter, digging into the layer below the pavement with considerably less hammering than the pavement had required.  A last few moments, and leaving the keys in the apartment, we headed down the stairs for the last time.

The train is familiar, getting out at Espagna, catching the A1 bus to T1 at the airport. Getting our seats organized for both parts of the trip and boarding passes, we felt in good shape as we got on that first plane headed for Madrid. Once we arrived in Madrid, we enjoyed the familiarity with the airport there as well, making our way for the long journey to the assigned gate, only to find that once there, we had been shifted to a later plane when our seats were assigned. So our luggage was already on its way to the later plane, and we swallowed our disappointment, coming to grips with the fact that we would be arriving much later. Rob and I shared a beer and some peanuts, and brought the same to the boys, who were biding their time phones in hand. Their stomach problems not quite subsided, neither took up our offer, so Rob and I shared another beer and peanuts.

Our long flight was crowded and the food below any standard we would set for meals. Unintelligible goo in place of mashed potato, next to undefined meat patty or heavy layers of creamy glop on pasta over dark tuna mush, nothing the boys could eat, and Rob and I managed to consume much more of it than we ought to have, but we were hungry and had nothing else to do. Even the wine was not palatable.

The views out the windows were fantastic and beautiful. It was clear enough that we were able to see the topography all the way across Spain and Portugal until we floated out over the sea, where the clouds began to clump and drift, catching gorgeous light until the darkness met us just as we approached the United States. The twinkling lights of Long Island seemed like grace itself. Then we landed, clapped and sat for nearly 40 minutes waiting for a parking place close enough to disembark.

Walking off the plane was simple, utilitarian and full of distinctly diverse people. We caught a ride into Brooklyn with a private car, dropped off Jesse at his own house, and arrived home to a surprised and amazed Emmett. Then our hosts arrived after their very long day and found the apartment inhabited by us! A delightful meeting, and all of us went off to bed. Home or not? And in the morning we brought fresh bagels to share, and after that Russell headed off for a train to Troy, and Rob, Emmett and I picked up the car and headed out of town to Gilboa.

And then we arrived home again. Zucchinis four times bigger than footballs, actually ripe tomatoes on the vine, green beans too big and tough to eat, wildness everywhere. It is easy to imagine what would happen if we didn't come here for a month. So tired as he was, Rob began to cut the grass and I took on harvesting cherry tomatoes, onions and cucumbers as the thunder rolled over head, and the sky darkened.

We had a crashing storm as we ate our fresh pollock steamed over a bed of fresh cherry tomatoes and torpedo onions, with sides of fresh beets and vinegar-cucumber slices. Still moving from one thing to the next, we found our way to bed by 9:15pm. Home twice in two days.