Portugal, La Mancha, and What Happens When I Don't Have Airborne

First thing's first. Two weekends ago I went to Portugal!! What a great time. We flounced around and saw things like....

Really pretty cathedrals!

Beautiful parks... (who can spot me in this picture? HAHA oops)

Some ducks in said parks... (This one goes out to my mom, obviously)

The Riverfront!!

A beautiful tower!

The view FROM the tower

Generally charming street scenes...

Our hostel! Only the coolest place ever, inside the train station!!

So then LAST weekend I went with my Don Quijote class, of course, to La Mancha:

THIS is in a little museum there. It is, in fact, a German copy of Don Quijote signed by Hitler. So scary.

"Speak with respect, Sancho" --Don Quijote

 ^The supposed house of Dulcinea del Toboso!

WINDMILL.

Fighting the windmill, duh.

The day after La Mancha was the Carnaval parade in Madrid:

Waiting in the crowd of people to see the floats!

So, basically, adventures all around. But now, as it turns out, I'm a little bit sick. A LITTLE bit. For my part, I'm quite convinced that loading my system with vitamins and slapping on some Vicks VapoRub cures all, but my host mom does not agree. "Estás FATAL," she tells me.

...I am not "fatal." I just have a bit of a cough.

But after enough prodding, I agreed to go see a doctor.

Dear everyone, I'm ALREADY a known hypochondriac, and this behavior should not be encouraged!!

So I head to the doctor, to whom I explain (in Spanish), what seems to be ailing me, and she definitely thinks I'm overreacting. Which is obviously true but for once not my fault.

Long story short, I have a bit of medicine and I will absolutely be fine--just in time to head to Paris in two weeks!!