I arrived in BA this morning at 11am in a pretty shell-shocked state, after a red-eye flight from perth to sydney, a six hour stopover then a further 14 hours of flying I was not looking my best.
I got out of the plane feeling totally wired. There is no sense of freedom like you with a backpack in a strange country. The language barrier makes even the simplest things tricky. It took me as long while to figure out you have to have coins to take the bus, and most places will not trade you coins readily (theres some sort of coin shortage?!). I eventually managed to get on the number 8 bus from the airport and managed to squeeze out some broken spanish from the back of the lonely planet guide to the guy sitting next to me, who was kind enough to show me the right stop and even walk me to my hosts house! What a great start.
I had dinner with my hosts nico and sol tonight, they are really genuine people, great personalities. Tomorrow nico is gonna show me a bit of the city, we might go to a punk rock concert as well. I am trying to speak what little spanish I know as much as possible, I think with a crash course I can get the bare essentials down by the end of this week.
I am pretty tired but exhilarated right now
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