I'm so Bored that I got my pictures developed (kinda)

Ahem, hola, Blogosphere! I really thought I'd have uploaded tons of pictures and exciting stories by now, but my camera battery is in the mail currently and my "exciting" stories are mostly about how I tried a new type of cheese or I actually woke up early enough to eat breakfast and catch the bus.

I actually have not seen a Palma bus map yet.

This past Saturday, however, I was Bored and I had the day to myself, so I walked down the street to the train station and hopped on the train to Sóller.

It's like an adorable, old-fashioned trolley!

Since Palma has basically been annexed by the Germans as a vacation/retirement resort, I was the only person on the train who spoke Spanish as opposed to German.

I was apparently also the only person who was not in a serious, PDA-full relationship

The ride was gorgeous, but as I didn't have my camera, I resorted to writing my feelings about the landscape.

No, you may not see that writing.

When we got to Sóller, I immediately noticed that the local tobacco store sold cheap disposable cameras, and I figured this was the perfect solution for the day.

Nothing could possibly go wrong!

Anyway, I wandered around the little town taking pictures and so on. I won't go into the long story of how I realized my debit card didn't work and spent loads of money on international calls with my mom to fix it...

When I got home, I figured that I could go develop my photos and then I could spend Sunday scrapbooking.

I know y'all are seriously doubting my skills at both photography and scrapbooking...stop judging me!

I asked somebody in a shop on the way home where I could get my pictures developed, and they told me the best place would be El Corte Inglés.

It's like a combination of every store you've ever seen...in one store

I checked their website, and it said they were open on Sunday, so I decided to wait til then.

Of course, when I actually walked all the way there on Sunday, they were closed. I kinda just stood around looking stupid for a while before walking back to my apartment.

On Monday, determined to scrapbook, I set out on a major shopping excursion.

And the path I took looked about like this...

First, I went to a schools supplies store on the street next to mine.

Which is funny since the study abroad advisers told us we couldn't buy that stuff here

I got myself a whole lot of glue, some scissors, and a box cutter to complete my scrapbooking set.

My next stop was an electronics store, where I probably paid way too much for a radio alarm clock.

Spanish vocab time: Despertador

Then I walked a far distance away to a store I had noticed a couple days before that advertised photo developing (revelar fotos) in the window.

Turns out they only "develop" digital pictures, which isn't really "developing" them at all

So, I turned around and walked all the way to El Corte Inglés.

Once inside, it took me asking multiple people and waiting a really long time for an elevator to the 5th floor to find the photography counter.

The lady behind the counter originally told me 1 day, but when she saw my disposable cameras, she said 1 week.

Why do they even sell these if they're so obsolete?!

So, after I added more money to my cellphone at the Vodafone counter, I ended my 2-hour journey by walking home taking the bus home and almost getting run over by it after I got off.

Anyway...

Bored Game Time!

Answer: 7. If you knew that, move forward 7 spaces, just for funsies. If you guessed a different number, move back that number of spaces.

Question: What is "elevator" in Spanish?

I'm so Bored that I collected my luggage at the airport

Ok, so that title is super lame, and this post is waaaay overdue, but I promised to tell y'all about my luggage, so here goes:

I got off the plane in Palma, desperately tired, completely lost, and repeating the Spanish word for luggage to myself over and over in case I needed to ask somebody for directions.

Equipaje, equipaje...

As I rounded my first corner, I realized that the airport was completely full of slanted walkways and that my leg was falling off.

And I don't have a fairy Godmother...

I really didn't want to stop, since I was extremely tired and had no cellphone, thus no way of contacting my host mom to tell her that I would be late, so I spent the next 30 minutes or so hobbling across the airport carrying my backpack and still muttering "equipaje" to myself.

Oh, Herbie, how I miss thee

I finally reached baggage claim, but instantly realized that, unlike in the Memphis airport, people coming to pick up friends and relatives can't enter the baggage claim area. So I was going to have to get my baggage by myself.

Kind of regretting the amount of baggage I brought now

I wandered around aimlessly until I found the baggage area for my flight, since there didn't seem to be any recognizable system, only to discover that only one of my three bags was there.

In very broken Spanish, I asked an attendant where the rest of my luggage might be and he told me that sometimes stuff gets randomly split up and sent to the international baggage claim area.

This map seems to work equally well for bus systems and the Palma airport

I found my luggage in the international area, after all, which was awesome, except for the fact that it weighs more than me* and was moving faster than I can walk**, so it took me a while to chase it down and drag it off the conveyor belt.

I had found a cart already for my smaller suitcase, but I had to get a second one for my larger bags. I tried putting the suitcases on the cart, but they were pretty heavy, so I ended up falling over.

I spent close to 15 minutes sitting on the floor trying to arrange my luggage on the carts. 

Finally, I had everything arranged. I stood up and pushed the two carts towards the exit, which, since I was now stuck in the international section, meant going through customs.

The customs officer stopped me and asked me something in Spanish. I still have no idea what he said. I said, "¿Qué?" and he repeated the question in English, I'm assuming. I still had no idea what he said, so then he asked me if I spoke either language.

I responded, "Los dos, un poco."

Yes, I told the Spanish customs officer that I don't really speak any language at all...

He looked at me askance, I said I was tired (in Spanish), and he let me pass.

Needless to say, I eventually found my poor host mom, who had been waiting an hour, and she mercifully took me home, fed me, and let me go to bed without much conversation.

Although she did make fun of me for bringing so much luggage.

Bored Game Time!

Answer: Catalan, or Mallorquin, as they call it here. Move forward 5 spaces if you knew that.

Question: How many hours ahead am I currently of CST?