The beginning

After months and months of preparation, anxiety, stress, and excitement, I finally left for Spain on Sunday morning. An agonizing twenty four hours later, I arrived at my hostel, via three different planes, one bus, one three hour train ride, a taxi ride, and finally lugging over 100 pounds of luggage several blocks to my hostel. It's been quite the trip. I saw some interesting characters, experienced my share of bizarre and stressful moments, and saw some amazing sights along the way (and after arriving!).
The first few steps of the journey went pretty smoothly. I saw a family of probably 10 children at the Newark airport as well as several other odd, smelly folks. I did have a bit of a stressful time in the Newark airport before realizing that I had to print off a new boarding pass and that the airline apparently hadn't decided on a gate to board passengers from. Those silly Portuguese... On my trip from Newark to Lisbon, Portugal, despite taking a sleep-aid pill and being completely exhausted, I only slept a few hours out of the 6 total hours on that flight.
I was delighted to find out, however, that I apparently look mildly Portuguese. At least 10 different people spoke to me in Portuguese between the flight and the Lisbon airport. Unfortunately, my weak attempts to respond made it quite obvious that I am not, in fact, Portugese. Still, it's good to know I can pass as another nationality.

After arriving in Lisbon and clearing customs, I wandered around the Lisbon airport for a short while and boarded the plane to Seville. The exhaustion was really getting to me at this point and I managed to sneak in a cat nap on the short 60 minute flight. When we were getting off the plane, I reveled in the bizarre characters who had been sitting behind me on that flight. The best was a 20-something guy wearing old, baggy denim overalls. Over that he was wearing a leather jacket, with who else but TWEETY bird embroidered all over it. I have never seen anything like that outfit.
I got quite a chuckle out if it. After getting off the plane, I picked up my baggage from the baggage claim (all there and in good shape!), headed towards the exit with all my luggage, almost bowling over several little old ladies. I found the bus that would take me to the train station and realized how awkward and ridiculous my luggage was. All I can say is, at least I have strong arms.
Let me tell you, it is not much fun to lift two 50 pound bags up into the bus, then back down again, then drag them up the bumpy hill to the train station, then through the train station, then into the bathroom, where they didn't fit, then nearly knocking even more ladies over before deciding to change clothes and use the bathroom in the separate (large) handicap bathroom. At this point, I was sweating profusely, which can surely be expected when you're doing such an intensive workout. Who needs to go to the gym when you can just use heavy suitcases to work out?
Because of my luggage, I temporarily lost my bus pass. Luckily, some nice citizen handed it into customer service and all was well.
After nearly falling over on the conveyor belt down to the train platform and afterwards lifting those godforsaken suitcases into the train and securing them in the baggage area behind my seat, the train ride actually turned out to be quite enjoyable. I was lulled asleep by the sight of the many, many olive groves passing by, the orange and lemon trees, the quaint little villages, and the sight of cute old men smoking cigars on benches in front of doorways. I awoke to the sight of breathtaking gorges and cliffs with sparkling clear rivers flowing below, followed by darkness as we passed through tunnel after tunnel in the cliff-sides. The train ride gave me a little preview of many adventures to come. I nearly squealed with excitement when I saw signs for hiking trails at bus stops along the way.
After arriving at the Malaga train station, I found a taxi driver who had no clue where my hostel was located and ended up dropping me off about five blocks away, saying that he couldn't get any closer (which was partly true - most of the streets around the hostel are for foot travel only). So I again dragged those suitcases around, feeling quite lost and just ready to get to where I was going. I asked four people before finally finding someone who led me in the right direction.
Needless to say, arriving at the hostel was such a relief. I could finally set down my gear and was greeted by the young, friendly staff who made me feel at home.
I took a much needed shower and ventured out with a friendly English hostel roommate to grab a cafe con leche (coffee with milk) and a bite to eat at a tapas bar. I had some delicious bread with goat cheese and perfectly cooked baby asparagus with balsamic vinaigrette and tomatoes. I felt so much more relaxed and refreshed and it finally began to settle in that THIS is my home for the next 9 months. My new friend and I then wandered around Malaga's historic center. I took a million pictures of the beautiful buildings, the cathedrals, the people, the narrow streets. We then decided that we would stop by the beach (about a 25 minute walk from the hostel) before heading back to home base for a dinner of delicious paella and sangria.
Now that I am here, I can hardly wait for what's to come. Tomorrow I am looking at apartments and am planning to do more exploring around the city. I have a long and exciting journey ahead of me.