Bridge Jumping | New Continent, New Stories

The Day I Almost Jumped Off A Bridge.

If all of your friends were going to jump off a bridge, would you do it too?

Yes, maybe. If I had the necessary 30 euros with me.

Allow me to explain:

I had just gotten back to Granada after seeing Kelly off at the airport. It was cold. The power was out in my apartment…which meant I couldn’t charge my dead phone or my dead laptop. My roommates were still in their hometown. I had no food, and it was a bank holiday…so no grocery stores were open. I was a sad, sad, girl. I was hating Spain a little and feeling homesick A LOT. These moments for me are generally fleeting, as I try to be happy where I am, and I do love Spain 90% of the time. However, this day was a low point.

While I was busy feeling sorry for myself, my roommate’s friend stopped by the apartment to pick something up. We chatted a bit and our conversation went something like this (translated for your benefit):

Friend: Annie, how are you?

Me: Good. Bored.

Friend: Come with me! Right now! Hurry! Put on your shoes!

Me: But, where are we going?

Friend: To jump off a bridge!

Me: Really?

Friend: Yes. Hurry! Get ready.

So that’s how it began. I put on my boots, grabbed my camera and got in the car with my friend (in a caravan with 11 other people) to drive to a bridge 15 minutes outside of Granada. It was a beautiful day. And the sun was setting behind the mountains as I took pictures of the adventurous Spaniards. I was highly pressured into jumping, and I probably would have if I had brought money with me. I was feeling spontaneous. But alas, I didn’t want to be the foreigner who needed to borrow money.