The good news? We are in Spain. The bad news? We are not yet in Valencia. We are stuck in Madrid, due time multiple flight delays and cancellations.
And 4 out of 5 of our suitcases are somewhere here too. In the bowels of the vast Madrid airport. The 5th is still back in Miami, having missed the transfer. We are tired, sweaty and tempers are running short. The Big Schlep has lived up to its name. Although we’ve added a word that starts with ‘F’ and ends with ‘ing’.
On the plus side, we have the assistant I hired in Valencia, trying to set up internet. But the company won’t do it until we register with the town hall and apply for our permanent visa at the police station. None of which can happen until we actually get there.
But she’s been a busy bee – getting the original lease from our lawyer for the town hall registry. And making an appointment with the police for us. She’s armed with the sequence it all must occur in and, frankly, I’ll be following her around Tomorrow (please God- just get us there) in a Jet-lagged daze.
It’s already different than in the US. First, the Spanish internet provider needed the NIE # on our visas, so I photographed them the moment we got them on Tuesday at the consulate. Then they said they needed more ‘proof’. Proof of what? I have no idea.
In the US, cable and internet providers will take your $$, no immigration status required. But I thinks this is good. It’s a reminder right out of the gate that we need to go with the flow and adjust. I feel sure that some sleep and food will help us in this process.
Jeff says we will drive if we have to. Rent a car. I said we could take the high speed train but he gave me a withering look.
‘If you think I’m schlepping those 4 bags on a train, you’re out of your mind.’ Again, that ‘F’ word crept in.
I get it. Neither of us is at our best today. Communicating monosyllabically.
Raised eyebrows ‘seriously?’
At this point, I am longing for those awful air mattresses we’ve been sleeping on. Suddenly, perspective is everything.