The train dipped and curved through luscious green towering mountains like a scenic rollercoaster. Twelve hours on a train from Toulouse to Madrid, my mind and body transformed into jelly. At the beginning I slept soundly curled up in a ball in my train seat heading from Toulouse to Bayonne on the western coast of France. When I exited my train in Arun on the border between France and Spain, my eyes and thoughts were blurry. At the start of my day I spoke French now I entered a dingy train station loud with the consonants of Spanish. My right brain could not adjust so quickly. The Spanish woman checking our passports and xraying our luggage for the train to Madrid asked me for my ticket (in spanish) I responded Oui, J'ai un billet, she stared at me with a wrinkled brow. Si, Yo tengo I corrected myself. Oh what a long day. The six hour train to Madrid should of provided a long time for sleeping but alas the french/spanish speak ...Read the full article