The Netherlands part 1

I have experienced quite a day. After I left the campus at 11, I had only a couple hours to hang up my wet clothes, wash and dry another load, eat lunch, find a hostess gift, work out some last minute details, and pack my backpack.
I left my apartment at about 1:30 to pick up a kabob for me and a gift for my host, whoever it may be. I was hoping to find some kind of fancy Spanish candy. El Corte Ingles, a department store, did not have anything affordable that looked good. Everything else was closed for the siesta not to reopen until 4:30, when my bus was scheduled to depart. I brainstormed desperately dreading the thought of walking hope empty-handed (except for my kabob) only to walk all the way back to the same area.
I finally spotted an open gourmet store across the street from El Corte Ingles that looked promising. I told the lady that I need a gift- something typical of Spain- for about ten euros. She knew exactly what to do. Instead of pushing me to spend twelve euros, she showed me a box of carmels for six and a half. She even wrapped it in nice tissue paper and wrapped a string around it. I couldn't stop saying, "Perfecto! Muchas Gracias!" (Perfect! Thank you very much!)
I made it to the bust stop fifteen minutes early, my backpack stuffed to the gills. The bus stop had just opened. It might have been the first day, actually. I'm not sure. It is beautiful, like Madrid's airport- a far cry from the vagrant magnets in the United States. The bus was equally impressive. There was a little tray on the seat in front of me and a place to plug in my headphones, just like on an airplane (though I could only pick up two channels). The headrest felt very nice. I would like to see the same concave design on all planes, trains, and buses.
Upon arriving in Madrid, I met up with Zac and his "friend-almost-girlfriend" Valentina. We walked around for a while. At my suggestion we ate at a little bar that did not allow us to sit at the table with our food and drinks. I showed them that was a mistake by spilling my hot chocolate all over the bar and my khaki pants. I did not want to change my pants, but I changed at the airport once it sunk in how ridiculous I looked.