Why the Spanish postal system is fast!

At the next gasolina it was much warmer and there was a 24hour restaurant there, so I treated myself to a hot coffee, mainly so we could steal the spoon to help prepare dinner (consisting of bread, cheese, and a big jar of beans, preserved spanish style (very tasty and cheap). We ate this next to the gas pumps and held our sign to strangers filling their cars. There was a lot more traffic here, so it looked like we would get a lift eventually and soon we did.

 

He was a spanish postal driver who had driven from madrid and was waiting in zaragoza for his workmate who was driving from barcalona to meet there and switch vans. He spoke very little english, but we eventually communicated a ride, and soon were hurtling our way towards madrid, in the rainy dead of night, in a van that had a top speed of 190km’s, and that was the speed we travelled at most of the way. It was scary at times, but you could tell the driver knew this stretch of road very well, and had his favorite sections, which he drove thru with the enthusuasm of a race car driver.

 

His destination was the airport so we decided to get out there also, if you are going to sleep out you are much safer to do it on the outskirts of a big city, because all the theives and thugs tend to prey on people inside town, not near the cargo section of an airport.

 

It was still raining and after some exploration we found a nice little nook underneath a freeway overpass, which although it was noisy, it was dry, secluded and out of the wind. We slept, though not well, I was freezing, and my stomach was still bad, and I remember waking to the smell of airline fuel and the roar of a jet taking off overhead. After a quick stop at the workers toilets in the airport, we caught a train into the city in search of an internet cafe to find our more info on where to go next.

 

It was a nice day and I liked the look of madrid, but we were feeling shitty and lugging your gear around is no way to explore a city. So once we found the internet cafe we had some discussions and decided perhaps it was best to skip portugal and make our way back to germany. By now I only have 16 days left before my flight back to australia and james had hardly any money on him and I think we were both feeling pretty destitute.

 

There was no information on hitchwiki about leaving madrid, so we had to figure out a place that would take us north. We found it eventually but it was less than ideal, and by this point I was exhausted even only after trekking a few kms with our  backpacks. I think the consistant shitting due to the water and sleeping out in the cold had weakened me, and after a few unsucessful hours hitching I decided it best that I go find a hostel in the city and rest up.