The train is slowing down, clearly pulling into a station where some people will disembark, but I mostly ignore it, because its too soon, we are not supposed to be arriving in Granada for another 30 minutes. And we’re not ready, we are still in the dining car, just having finished breakfast. Our stuff isn’t packed up. I haven’t spent the last few minutes anticipating our arrival to this place I knew 20 years ago, and letting the excitement build the way it does on Christmas Eve when you know the next day is Christmas. But no, Tyler points out, the signs outside say “Granada”. We are here, and it’s time to get off the train.
“The air in Burlington is so much cleaner. It doesn’t have the problem that the air here does,” Isaac says. It’s a somewhat familiar statement at this point, one he has repeated before.
“Well, this is a big city,” I respond. “It’s hard to avoid when you have so many people living in one place.” I try to point out the things that Barcelona does well to help with air quality- the amount of well functioning public transport options, the ability to walk so many places- but it is clear that he isn’t listening. His complaint was not a request for a dialogue. Monologues are really more his thing. |
AuthorMother, wife, previous and current Spain-dweller, excited to back here again. Archives
July 2015
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