I’ve been back in Madrid for almost three weeks, and I’ve been surprisingly busy enough that I have only just now had the opportunity to sit down and give a life update for the five people that read and care about this blog.

After spending a month and a half in New Hampshire, including a visit to New York, I was more than ready to get back to my life in Spain. When I’m in New Hampshire, a piece of my heart is in Madrid, and vice versa, but the reality is that in Spain, I’m happy with my life and the direction that it’s going, and I don’t feel so strangely out of place. Still, the six weeks that I spent in NH flew by, and before I knew it, I was back at Boston airport. But this time, it was a little bit different from when I first moved to Madrid a year ago.

At the ghost-town airport, British Airways asked why I was going to Madrid, and I had to show them several different documents proving that I can re-enter the country. One positive thing about Covid-19 is, much shorter airport security lines. My 5 1/2 hour flight to London was very comfortable, minus the excessive turbulence, both because I was able to stretch out along the row, and because the lovely flight attendant offered me two miniture bottles of wine instead of just one. During my layover in London, I made the unfortunate mistake of leaving my half full bottle of water in my bag as it went through security, and after a long time of standing around waiting for TSA to make sure that my water wasn’t a bomb, I was forced to chug it (someone please explain to me why there are no sinks around??). But, most fortunately, this time there was a bar open at the airport.

Before boarding my flight to Madrid, the airline again had to check my paperwork ensuring that I was allowed to re-enter. They also made me switch out my mask for a surgical one, because Spain now has restrictions on what kind of mask you can wear. It was a pretty full flight, but as luck would have it, I again got a row to myself. By this point, I hadn’t slept in 12 hours, and was feeling delirious and nauseated. As the plane landed, the anxiety of facing Passport Control began to hit me, but I needn’t have worried: A quick Passport stamp, no questions asked, and I was officially back in Spain, 30 minutes ahead of schedule. One burrito, and 16 hours of sleep later, and I felt much better.

Since then, I’ve been busying re-settling into my life here, social distancing when possible, and of course, loading up on vino y jamon (oh how I missed you!). Before school started, I had to get a PCR test to ensure that I didn’t have the virus. Not a big deal, as I’m now used to having a Q-tip shoved up my nose, however, I was not the only one who needed this test: Every auxiliar in Madrid needed it. I arrived at the testing lab at 6:45 in the morning, 45 minutes before opening, and there was already a line wrapped around the building. I did not leave until 11:15am. But, the results came back negative.

On the 1st of October, I went to my school. It was a great feeling saying hello to the teachers and students after having gone seven months not seeing them, although one of the teachers did jokingly say to me “Hello! Welcome to hell!”, in case you’re wondering how educators feel about schools being open. One class has already been put in quarantine twice. I’m excited to be back in the classroom, but the experience will be very different from last year, and the risks of catching Coronavirus aren’t exactly low. As you’ve probably heard, Spain is in the midst of the second wave, and Madrid has implemented some new confinement measures in an attempt to slow down the virus. I doubt there will be another full lockdown as what we saw in the spring, because Spaniards would go nuclear, but more restrictions are likely.

But, even in Corona times, there’s no place I’d rather call home. I feel so happy to be back, and am looking forward to continuing teaching English, learning Spanish, and drinking the deliciously cheap wine.