I arrived in Madrid with two hours of sleep, a wrinkled dress, and a load of nervous energy.

I’d never felt so mature or excited in my life; but upon leaving my passport in the bathroom I was quickly brought back down to Earth. Laughing at myself, I collected my bags and headed out into the rainy Spanish morning, in search of the driver sent to meet me. I spotted my name among the car service signs, and introduced myself to Luis, a friendly madrileño who thankfully wanted to practice his English as he drove me to my new home. As Luis chatted about how I was going to love the city, I listened eagerly and watched out the car window as large, important looking buildings began to loom out of the fog.

Luis turned the car onto a narrow street in a fairly commercial part town and we pulled up to a narrow apartment building. He helped me carry my bags through the wrought iron gates and, after making sure we were in the right place, departed in true Spanish style with a kiss on each cheek. What a pleasant welcome!

I knocked on the door of my new home and Juan, my new flat mate answered. He had been in the city since New Year’s, and showed me around while I waited for the realtor to bring my keys. A shabby little place with a well worn living room and a mustard yellow kitchen, the apartment was not what I was expecting. Hopes of a quaint and cozy flat were dashed and replaced by the smell of fish; the last residents had left food to rot. The place was a mess and the kitchen grimy, and quickly doubts started creeping in.

But despite such first impressions, my airy, white walled room (opened by the tardy realtor) held promise. The space was larger than I had dared to hope, and the large window and gauzy curtains whispered tales of cool breezes and beautiful views come warmer weather. I spent the afternoon unpacking and making the little space my home while trying to wrap my head around my new situation. I fluctuated from ecstatic to panicked to overwhelmed to guilty I wasn’t joyous and back to ecstatic again. Once my room was set up with pictures from home, a couple of books, notes from my parents, and a new blanket, I felt much more assured and ready to finally see the city.

That night Juan took me and Danielle (another roommate who had arrived a few hours after I had) to grab some food and to meet two of his friends who were vacationing from St. Pete. The five of us explored El Mercado de San Juan, a beautiful indoor market with  rows of glistening stalls filled with cheeses and hams, fish heads and eggs, macaroons and churros and tapas of all kinds. I was completely dazzled and all doubts of that morning were quickly erased (food has that effect on me.) After grabbing a glass of sangria and a couple of tapas at the market, we walked to a nearby tapas bar and spent the evening laughing, talking, and reveling in the excitement of our first night in our new home. Always there was a sense of wonder and a feeling of awe…I was finally in the city I’d been dreaming of.