I couldn't help but laugh the moment I arrived at Bajaras Aeropuerto yesterday afternoon. I truly knew that I had arrived in Madrid when upon entering the airport, I heard a "Smoking is Prohibited" announcement while I was simultaneously hit by a cloud of smoke. Even though I was parched from the three hour flight, there was no water fountain in sight. But then I remembered that I was in Spain. Water, shmater. The "Para Fumar" room was clearly of much more importance. The first thing I spotted, I found that it wasn't doing such a great job of containing the smoke. Maybe one hundred square feet, this cube was packed with chain smokers who must have gone through pure hell, cigarette-less on whatever flight they had just endured.
Despite being annoyed that finding water seemed to necessitate some sort of treasure map, I also had to smile. Never had I thought that the stench of cigarettes would make me so sentimental.
Ahhh, Spain. Although I could do without your incessant smoking, I cannot help but tie it to the things I do adore about you...your Rioja, your manchego, your flamenco, your sun drenched plazas, your sangria, your raucous soccer matches, your three o'clock siestas, your Sunday afternoon feasts...If I must endure a little secondhand smoke in the process, I guess I will take it.
Now, pass that sangria, wouldja?
1 comment:
I smoke. and I HATE those airport smoking rooms. Reminds me of my second time in Paris in '00. My luggage was lost and while in line with all of the others to file a claim, *everyone* was smoking under the Defense Fumar sign... right in the airport. I loved the rebellious of it, that I would never see in the US :)
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