Chapter 2 III

A long dense silence followed, uncomfortable and full of engine noise, occasional snoring and seat creaking. After a few minutes, Boone leaned into his bag and poked around a little more. This time he pulled out an A4 sized envelope. It was not closed. He turned it upside down and a few papers showed: --Here you have plane tickets, hotel reservations, maps... all you need. In a month... --- He looked up. -- Have a look to the documentation -- he nodded towards the computer -- In a month we talk it over ok?--
The  younger man sighed, took the envelope and flipped it upside down and tapped on the top so all the papers fell in. He did not look inside
--ok--
Boone relaxed, or pretended to, while observed the other man sitting next to him. He was just staring at the seat in front of him, still holding the envelope. The other hand resting on his knee

Soon Afterwards, the plane started the descend maneuver. The darkness got suddenly replaced by the yellowish light pollution reflected from the clouds and the sharp movements of the plane and the orders to fold trays and prepare the cabin for landing. There were the last runs to the toilet where marched by the turbines changing their turning speed.

While the unintelligibly voice of the crew chef fought the turbine noise Boone turned a little and said

--remember, one month --

2.1. Madrid Barajas 23:00

As soon as we landed, Boone took off on his own and let me alone with my thoughts. I guess it is not difficult to imagine these were many and confusing ones

Fist of all, I had to get moving, leave the airport. That I would achieve by getting to the tube. It was already 2300 and there was not a whole lot of people around. Departure flights were long gone and, besides a few passengers settling in for one of those famous airport nights, there was not a lot else to be seen. The buzzing of  many tube lights and mechanical staircases was all that could be heard.


Finally, the train arrived, between squeaking noises and shakes. The train came in  almost empty, what somewhat made the lights more intense.  Here and there a few airport workers were dozing. A handful of tired fliers and tired looking workers climbed on board when the  doors opened and swallowed us.

After what seemed an eternity, I found myself climbing the escalators from the underworld, brightly lit, to the dark fresh night of Madrid. Streets were empty with just the odd car speeding,so to avoid the changing lights. Finally one could not make it and had to stop as my turn came to hurry up through the asphalt.

It was just mid March, but spring in Madrid had a foothold, nevertheless I was too tired and had too much in my mind to enjoy the crisp fresh night. As I came to our building I took my keys out of my pocket, had a peek at the post box (empty) and started to climb the stairs as silently as I could. The buzzing of the control relay was clearly audible and when the lights went off, at the height of the 3rd floor it sounded like a whiplash. Light from the street lights came through the not so clean windows that lined the staircase, so I kept climbing the last flight in the semi darkness. As I approached  the door  I could hear a TV and a very faint yellow line coming from the lower door gap. As I opened the door, I confirmed that Diego, my flatmate, was again sound asleep before the TV set. I lowered my bag at the corridor and came to wake him up.

He was going to wake up when I turned the TV anyway, so it would take a little less explaining this way. After some initial confusion, Diego dragged his feet towards his room, munching some words on his way. I went to the shower after turning off the TV. Despite it being so late, I would rather go clean into the bed and without plane odor.

0600 Came much faster than I would have liked. On the positive, it was a Thursday, so the weekend was near. After the second alarm at 0615 and now I could clearly hear Diego fumbling in the kitchen, on the other side of my room's wall. I took a suspicious look to my travel bag, comfortably leaned to the clothes cabinet, looking innocent in the twilight... as it did not contain the computer Boone had given me the day before... yesterday? really?. I jumped out of bed and opened the bag to check. Well perhaps not a big jump, let's say a swift move.


My room in this rented flat was rather small, the flat itself had to sleeping rooms, a living room and a bathroom. My room was under 8m² and there was barely space enough for a 1.40 m bed, a clothes cabinet and a small desk, all IKEA made. Between the end of the bed and the desk I had a night table with three drawers. When I opened the room's door, it would not go to 90°, as it would be stopped short by the bed. At the far end, next to the window and desk, the clothes cabinet had most of my earthly possessions within  and at its feet laid the travel bag. As I opened it I could see that, indeed, the small computer was there, looking all normal, waiting. I had other things to get to, as the noises coming from the kitchen reminded

Without a lot of enthusiasm, I headed towards the bathroom and exchanged some grunting with Diego on the way. What Diego was up to in the mornings was beyond my understanding. He could not cook. Really unable. A gas kitchen was for him a extreme export and he was usually torn between that and the microwave to heat things up, in this case a bowl of milk with some powder coffee. Why this activity was so noisy and so much activity is something I could never find out. In any case, he always did this in his underwear and a tan shirt, because once he spilled boiling coffee on his suit. It was much funnier than I am telling now, but hey, he was my flatmate and there is still a certain code of honor.

In his defence I must say that he was (until that point in time) not acquainted with superheated fluids. When a fluid reaches its boiling point at a given pressure, small  bubbles form at the  bottom of the vessel and eventually they get bigger, breaking the surface of the fluid. These small bubbles form at the vessel's bottom and or walls, as these are usually the transporters of heat to the fluid and there are small imperfections, where these bubbles can form. However, in a microwave the device heats up the fluid directly and it may happen that the vessel is indeed colder, so the small bubble thing does not happen. This might lead to the temperature of the fluid surpassing that of the boiling temperature without breaking the surface tension of the fluid. The surface tension might be broken by, say a dunking cookie and then boiling occurs, all at one, sort to say.

The view from my room

As I finished getting dressed, Diego said his goodbyes and bolted towards work. He worked as commercial in a company based in the same complex as mine and he enjoyed immensely when we walked together to work . He was a morning talker. On the other hand, once he was ready, he could not help it but need to run to work. Could not wait idle. A few minutes later I was also ready to go. I took my work laptop while I looked at the other... and I also headed to work.