I won't lie, I'm a little low key disappointed that the train I'm on isn't one of the AVE high velocity ones. Whatever. I made it just in time, I completely miscalculated how big Puerto De Atocha train station and I got lost. I sat down just as the train was leaving.
There's a cafe car onboard which pleases me, I love the idea of having a beer and some olives as I hurtle towards my next stop.
There's something about being in Madrid that is solely and truly about me and my past, both near and distant. Somewhere not too far up the line I have Spanish family and definitely a long way up the tree, like almost all Salvadorans, my heritage was (or is) Spanish. Colonisation be damned.
I made it to the Palacio Real today and to the cathedral and he Plaza Mayor. Just on a morning jaunt for coffee, breakfast and to stretch my legs.
As I was walking, as I make my way around this beautiful country, as I make my way around this blue and green earth in fact, I'm very conscious and aware of my luck. I am unbelievably lucky and for that I'm grateful. I'm lucky that I can be here, I'm lucky that my two feet have brought me here both metaphorically speaking and literally here, to this place, today.
I'm both awed and humbled by the trivial fact that I exist, I'm here and although I'm going to be nothing but a speck of dust in the great scheme of things I find humility in that, and solace, and joy.
It's quite something for the son of refugees from a country in the middle of the middle of the Americas with no real claim to fame, to be walking around the old Kingdom of Navarre.
It's humbling, that with grit, determination, hard work and a fancy education I've made it to the middle class. Here I am!
I'm also in Spain, but you know what I mean.