An empty row = makeshift bed for the next 8 hours. The Air Europa-branded pillow and blanket were certainly better than the rolled-up scarf and a hoodie I would have been using.
Uneventful takeoffs are always welcome; Miami’s bright lights wove me off into the otherwise black night.
Dinner was served as soon as we reached cruising altitude: Fusilli with a mushroom alfredo sauce wannabe and a few strands of melty, stretchy cheese, accompanied by a small bun and butter. Carbs galore.
Between my numbed tasted buds and the hunger in my stomach, this wasn’t nearly as bad as it looked. The blueberry muffin we had for dessert was actually quite good.
With dinner served and trash cleaned up, the lights in the cabin went off to allow us to [attempt to] sleep.
And sleep I did because the next thing I knew, the pit in my stomach alerted me to our descent. The screen showed us gliding over Spain.
And a quick glance out the window confirmed our impending arrival.
Welcome to Madrid!