Sunday, July 27th, morning: I wake up without back pain. The night was horrible, the couch was very run down already, but at least it has put back whatever was off in my spine or wherever. We gather our things, put them into the Grrrmaneta and leave. We make another stop at a supermarket and get some breakfast, snacks and water. I choose the self-checkout because I don’t feel fit to talk in any language today, but of course, the system hates me. (I told you to remind me!!!!) We need assistance from two employees of the place and talk more as if we had paid at the normal checkout. Please, remind me next time.
We choose to try finding a spot in Santander, we already have a house booked on the campingsite, maybe they have a space for us for another night. So off to the north. The landscape is changing again, we see everything again in just a few hours. Big cities, smaller cities, deserts, mountains, forests, tunnels and a lot of bridges.
I am happy we’re leaving, but at the same time I feel bad for not liking Madrid as much as I maybe should have.
People are sharing more material from the concert the evening before and it is beautiful. I can’t wait to see them live. I am joking about how I didn’t like Madrid and how much the driving there has pissed me off, and I end up promising to come back but take a flight when the guys sell out the Bernabéu. People soon correct me that the idea is fine, but it has to be the Metropolitano! Okay, fine by me. I have absolutely no preferences in Spanish football because no matter which Spanish team kicks our sorry little a*s, it always hurts. But if you tell me to come to the Metropolitano to see a concert, then I’ll be there.