Who needs gym when you can go on vacation!

Sweet Lord!  So I am sitting in my seat on Iberia Airways, heading to Madrid,  Spain and what a morning it has been already. With a 9.00am take off, I unwillingly got off the bed at 4.45 since of course, I take ages to get ready and my bags were also in a bit of a helter skelter. Now it was my misson to pack one medium sized bag for this 10 day excursion and lemme tell you, it was a challenge. In the end I did manage it but squashed as much as physically possible in this poor pink contraption.  Being stylish is a bit of a headache when travelling.  

Then try travelling in London peak time - morning rush hour. With a heavy suitcase and cute purse. With changing temps as you move from ground level where it is chilly - jacket needed; to tube level where it is warm - lose jacket; to ground level on tube - scramble to get jacket back on. Then factor in the long walk between trains and no escalator but awesome flights of stairs where you lug the pink burden up what seems like 1000 steps, with the jacket now off, dragging on the floor, and rush hour London hamsters not giving a rat's ass that your bag is heavy and you are doing the best you can. Hell no. They bump into you, and scowl at you and your now evil bag. Who needs a gym membership at this point? I worked my arms, glutes, my core in one walk through Green Park Station with my adventure bag. Last night's rose' is now in a puddle of sweat near a staircase. Lol.

Of course, you then get on the train and there are no seats so you stand while balancing the adventure bag and yourself as the train turns and lurches. What fun! Of course at 6-something in the morning, some guy gets on in what looks like his pyjamas sith a jacket thrown over it, smelling like dried sweat, testing your already strained tolerance as you concentrate on not falling and now also on not passing out from the stink. There is also the smack smacking of soon to be separated lovers kissing for 5 stops - yes, I counted. All good fun, right?

But I got to the airport, got a full body massage from airport security and I mean FULL! From ears to boobs to ass to little toes. Do they hide weapons between toes now or is it just me? Massage over, I grab a coffee, scamper to my gate, get on my plane and "eagerly" await repeating this nightmare at a tube station I do not know in Madrid.

Next - Another one, please - Foodie Adventures from Madrid