Disclaimer: Today was a beautiful day in Sevilla, and so I did what all Sevillanos do on a nice day and drank wine by the river in the sun. Ergo, am writing this post while I am un poquito borracha.
Anyway, due to this fact, this is going to be a short and unedited post, so apologies for any potential embarrassing mistakes.
Today, my friend Sylvia and I enjoyed the Sevilla sun by going to get a cappuccino on a terrace near Plaza Espana in the city centre.
Eventually, our conversation turned toward strange coincidences, and we mulled over the following story, which happened to me upon my traveling to Sevilla:
As you might discern from my post, Londoners Can’t Handle their Snow, I had a bit of trouble getting from London to Sevilla. My flight from London to Madrid was delayed, and so I missed my flight from Madrid to Sevilla.
Now, you are probably reading this and thinking: yes, many airlines often seem borrachos themselves (para example: last week when my mom and I tried to board our flight to Barcelona… but that’s a story for another day), and these incidences are quite common.
But, listen closely, amigos, because this is where things get interesting.
I was supposed to fly from London to Sevilla on that Saturday, January 18, but the girl that I happened to be sitting next to on the plane, Alex, was supposed to fly to Sevilla the day before.
After an hour of waiting in Heathrow on that Saturday, we all finally boarded the airplane headed to Madrid. The plane was on the small side – two columns of three seats each. I had the window seat, and my plane partner had the aisle; no one sat in the middle. The girl turned to me.
“Are you from Canada?” She asked.
“Yeah, are you? How can you tell?” I answered.
She shrugged. “You were giving off a vibe. I’m from Oakville but live in Calgary. Where are you headed?” She continued.
“Sevilla,” I answered. “I’m studying abroad for a few months.”
“Me too!” She said. I was surprised – what were the chances that two Canadians would end up sitting next to each other on a flight out of Heathrow? “Pablo Olavide University?”
This is when things really started to feel odd. Not only were we going to the same city – that was not the final destination of that airplane – but we were going to the same school that was not even the main university in Sevilla. Universidad de Sevilla is the centrally located (and absolutely beautiful) university – it takes me about 45 minutes to get to UPO every day.
The girl’s name is Alex, and what had happened was that she and two other exchange students from Calgary had arrived in London the day before, and were supposed to fly out that day, but couldn’t because of the “snow.” She got put on my plane, a flight that I was meant to be on, but originally, she was not. We both missed the connection to Sevilla – and, lo and behold, were once again seated next to each other. Two Canadians, flying through London, en route to Sevilla.
At the time, I was too exhausted to fully appreciate the situation – after a few days of traveling I was exhausted and ready to finally get to my homestay. But today, when talking with Sylvia, her roommate, I realized how crazy the whole thing really was – and realized that I might not have met the only other seven Canadians at UPO (who are all from Calgary) if it hadn’t been for that happy accident.
So today, in addition to appreciating this week that I get off from school to celebrate Semana Santa, Holy Week, I appreciate the little happy accidents that make our life wonderful.
Así, salud, for friends, for accidents, and for an impending trip to Paris!