Spanish lessons

1. Packing up

It's early Wednesday morning, a truly ungodly hour to be up already but Mrs Fletcher decided to book the early flight for the class in order to not lose any more time on their already short trip. They are lucky enough to be able to go to Barcelona for 4 whole days and apply the knowledge of Spanish the students acquired over the past few months. Charlotte is not particularly mad about having to get up at 3 am for this trip, she has been looking forward to it for almost 8 months now and been saving money for it for the past half a year. Her parents weren't rich, so she needed to make the money to pay for the trip herself by working in the little crafts shop on weekends. After all, learning foreign languages and visiting foreign countries has always been her biggest dream. 

When she saw the note hanging on the message board in the corridor of the faculty of arts at her university that a Spanish class will be offered in the spring semester that had just begun a few days ago, Charlotte immediately rushed to the teachers' office to sign up. She didn't care about the 200 pounds it would cost (that's working on 10 weekends in a row if she could go in on both days), not including the additional fee for the trip at the end of the semester. In total, she worked her ass off for 4 months every weekend to save the money just for the class and the trip, suffering through early morning hours, her annoying colleagues Spencer and Olive who always tried to make conversation during her break when all she wanted was to be alone, and her impolite chef who kept asking her why she wanted to work so much (Not that it was a secret, but Charlotte hates being asked private questions at work. She just wants to go in, do her work and get paid without being bothered.)

Her suitcase was packed and ready almost a whole week before the actual trip. Her sunglasses sitting on top of it, inside waiting were the turquoise bathing suit she got at a flea market just a few days after she signed up for the trip and the beige hat with the pink ribbon, a gift from her grandma on her last vacation to Florida over 4 years ago.

When her alarm rang on the day of departure, Charlotte had already been awake for at least an hour. She double-checked her mental bucket-list for the trip, the things and places she absolutely had to see and do. 

Number one: going to the Sagrada Familia, the Incomplete, lighting a candle for her granny and acknowledging that she herself is incomplete, but still or already a masterpiece. 

Number two: going to the beach, duh. Although the hotel they were staying at was equipped with a pretty decent pool area, dipping her toes into the mediterranean sea was an absolute necessity. She needed to feel the salt water, the waves crashing against her ankles. 

Number three: eating tapas, lots of them. With a side of Sangria. 

Number four: strolling through Parc Güell, silver sandals on dusty tracks, searching for the little hidden spots in the shadow while the sun burns with almost 38 degrees. 

 Number five: ...

There's a thousand other things Charlotte put on her mental check list, while still leaving room for all the opportunities that would probably open up once she would be there.