At the Embassy of India in Madrid they changed one of the two last names (“Fernnadez”, they put on the visa) but no pungent official puts me down and after my backpack passes through X-rays, I go to my suitcase for a side of the small arrivals area (which has the customs counters on one side and the only two luggage conveyors). After 10 minutes crowded on the one of our flight, they change the poster and we go to the other one. You do not know how exhausting the subsequent wait is if you have not done so in Asia, as we enter, sideways and pushing, supporting each other, four people in half a meter of space. And so, meter after meter around the tape. And attached to our ankles, the front of their luggage trolleys, which bring everything they can. The photo taken with the mobile does not do justice to the situation, but with that noise I was not going to take out the camera in my backpack, behind my back. Despite the four fans above our heads, in each of the half-dozen columns of the building, I'm still bathed in sweat.