One "joke" I tell Jessica fairly often is that new places we visit look like eastern Washington. This "joke" is "funny" because eastern Washington is fairly unremarkable and the comment kind of takes the wind out of the sails of any grandiose first impression we may have of any new location. Kind of a jerk thing to do, I suppose.
Usually when I make this "joke", Jessica just tells me that I'm an idiot. This time, as we taxi'd in from the airport, the conversation was a little different:
"Spain looks like eastern Washington," I say.
"Oh my god," she replied, "you're right."
Of course, once we entered Madrid, the comparisons to the rolling plains of The Palouse ended. It was a bit of a disappointment at first; new places are supposed contain an element of the unknown and different, not reminiscent of hundreds of hours of monotonous road trips. After a moment though, the familiarity brought a sense of comfort. It's nice to know that even on the other side of home, I can find something that reminds me of home.
I'm still going to miss those mountains though.
