con todo mi ser: Traveling: for better and for worse

In the last 9 days, I have been in 2 different countries, 7 different cities near and far around the Iberian Peninsula, 6 different beds, 2 buses, and 3 trains. I have been on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean or the "End of the World" and the coast of the Mediterranean. I've been to 4 cities in 4 days and literally had to remind myself where I was each morning when I woke up.
"I am in Toledo. I'm in a hotel room with two classmates."
"I am in Madrid in an apartment with Kenzie's friends."
"I am in Barcelona in a hostel with 7 complete strangers."
"I'm in Valencia in the River Valley's pastor's house."

The traveling adventures started last weekend when I went to Portugal with a program called Outdoor Sevilla. I mentioned before that I was craving time away from the city life, and Portugal was just the rejuvenation I needed. The little town we stayed at was on the coast, and it literally felt like we students had the whole town to ourselves. The landscape was absolutely breathtaking. I feel like beauty is so much more stunning when you’ve never seen anything like it before, and I had never seen anything like the Portugal cliffs framing the gigantic Atlantic Ocean. We were able to hike, rock climb, and surf in our time there, and I adored every moment of it. Sincerely, I think it was the best weekend of my life. Like, holy cow.

I had 3 short days back in Sevilla to quickly unpack and pack again before I left for another crazy weekend. Our school was taking an overnight excursion to Toledo on Thursday, and since we had Monday off due to a Spanish holiday, most students were traveling from Toledo to other locations. The planned agenda for my two friends and me was to leave from Toledo to Madrid where we would catch a train to Barcelona. In Barcelona, we would explore the city for the day, go to Hillsong Church the next morning, then immediately hop on a train to travel to Valencia to catch another church service. It was a weekend that I was looking forward to, but it was not the weekend I expected.

We successfully made it to Madrid, and before our next train left, we decided to meet up with Kenzie’s friend who lived right by the train station. As we were sitting in the café, I remember looking at the time compulsively, worrying that we were going to be late for our train. Little did I realize how late we actually were. It turns out instead of leaving at 6:30PM like we thought, the train had left at 6:30AM.

Oops.

We were basically screwed. Chaos ensued, but all of us kept pretty calm. We ended up staying at Kenzie’s friend’s apartment for the night, which was such a gigantic blessing because otherwise I think we might have been on the street. After much frantic searching, we found a bus for Barcelona that left the next morning and bought our tickets. As a result, we lost about 8 hours of time in Barcelona, not to mention a good amount of money on a train that left while we were peacefully sleeping in Toledo. Honestly, I felt a little responsible for the train catastrophe since I was the one that found the website we bought the tickets from, but justice was served: I was sick the entire rest of the weekend.

I don’t get sick often, but I have had some unpleasant experiences. I threw up on my desk in 2^nd grade, and since then, I’ve had a fear of throwing up in public. That fear definitely didn’t manifest itself this weekend though because I dry heaved in a gas station and the streets of Barcelona without even thinking twice. I had to do what I had to do. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t miserable though; it was. In short, I was not a well human in Barcelona, but I enjoyed the beauty of the place nonetheless.

That night, I stayed in a hostel alone. For some reason, the reservation for my original hostel wasn’t working, and by the time I got it to work, there was no space left. I was separated from Kenzie and Zoey, sick, and with 7 strangers in Barcelona. However, my experience was actually pretty enjoyable. I met some pretty cool girls from China and Brazil. I’ve always liked the idea of being the sole representative from America in a group; it just makes me feel culturally cool.

On Sunday, I checked out of my hostel, reunited with my girls, and then went to Hillsong Barcelona. We took our seats, and the moment the music started playing, tears started streaming down my cheeks. We were finally there. It was worth it. God was worth it. He always is.

Iglesia River Valley Valencia was next. River Valley has several campuses in the Twin Cities and just two international campuses. Over the summer, I just happened to get in contact with the Valencia pastor and his wife when they visited my church campus. Can I even express how much of a blessing that was? The pastor and his wife opened up their house to us and let us stay there for the night, which was glorious. At that point in the weekend, I was exhausted from traveling and sickness, and literally every movement of my limbs was like a marathon. Even through my severe fatigue, I still enjoyed worshipping with my home church in Spain, listening to the message, meeting new people, and staying in that lovely house for the evening.
This morning, I somehow miraculously arrived safely back to Sevilla after the chaotic weekend, and currently I’m in my bed. I’ll definitely praise God for that.

And for everything else.

*pictures mixed up and in no order. kind of like my brain right now*