I left to Santander on Friday, at midday, with three other teammates. As soon as we landed, we got picked up at the airport, inhaled some lunch at another teammate’s house, and promptly left to go catch the bus the team rented to go to Nantes. (Gmaps says 778 km,8h 24 min). We left at around 3:30pm and arrived to the hotel at 2:00am. Woke up at 8am for some breakfast, played three eighty minute games (one win, two losses) on Saturday, had dinner, showered, hung around for a bit and went to bed at 11:30pm. Woke up at 7am on Sunday, packed my bag, had breakfast, played two games (the first of which was in the worst conditions I’ve ever played, with torrential rain and occasional gusts of freezing wind; two wins for a ninth place finish out of twelve teams, the best historical result for a spanish team at European Regionals), showered, and got on the bus back again at around 4:30pm. Arrived at Santander after 3 shit movies and a few games of Dos (a knockoff and improved version of Uno) at 2:00am, got lost on the way to the house we were going to be staying at overnight and finally managed to get to bed at 3:30am. The alarm clock rang at 6:30am, booked it to the airport, and our flight took off, slightly late, at 8:15am. Landed in Madrid, took the subway and train home, left my bag, changed, grabbed my laptop and a (homemade) granola bar and got to work at 10:30am.
Only to be told, as soon as I sat down, that some very important artists had mysteriously disappeared from our database and that the main hard drive from our development machine is dying (thanks smartd! It’s better to know a drive is about to die, than to discover a drive is dead). This may sound like a complaint, but after an 11 hour bus ride, 3 hours of sleep, and no solid meals since Saturday night, if I weren’t busy I’d be slumped over my desk in a comatose state.