We arrived in Spain just before midnight on January 6, Dia de Los Reyes Magos (Day of the Mage Kings, purveyors of gold, frankincense and myrrh). Though the time it took to collect our suitcases in baggage claim was the shortest I’ve ever experienced, we made it to the metro entrance four minutes after the last train had left (early closing in honor of the Mage Kings and their holiday).
The sleep I had managed in the previous 24 hours was limited to a few hours on the first flight and a face-down-on-backpack interval in a food court in the Lisbon Corte Inglés, so we’ve spent a good amount of our Airbnb time since then unconscious.
The rest of the time we’ve spent rather ineffectually in our apartment hunt. The intersection of the sets “people listing apartments near El Guapo’s work,” “people willing to rent to us for just 6 months” and “people willing to show us an apartment on a Saturday” was zero, nada, empty set. Still, we have a place to see on Tuesday, and something is bound to come up–it always has before.
The next time I write, we’ll probably have an apartment. In the meantime, like this bird on the head of a statue in the Parque Eduardo VII in Lisboa, we’re looking ahead.
[Images: bbc.co.uk, El Guapo]