As I awoke from an impromptu siesta I started thinking about the Christmas weekend I have just experienced, and how it was so very different from last year... December 2009 Two days after school finishing for the holidays and only slightly hungover, I was making my way to Ezeiza, the international airport here in Buenos Aires. The temperature? A balmy 33º. My destination? Madrid, Spain followed my a connection to London, England: home. I was going home for the first time in 18 months. Fastforward about 18 hours, and after the most turbulent-hit flight of my life, an extremely sleepy Emma hears over the tannoy as we land in Madrid "bienvenidas a Madrid, dónde la temperatura es menos ocho y las condiciones.... " I never heard what the conditions were, as my brain went into overdrive.
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