Madrid with no voice:(

Having grown up in California I'm comfortable enough with my Spanish to get by. However...in Madrid not only do they speak another language, but they speak it differently than I've ever heard Spanish spoken before. The "sss" sound in words like gracias and Barcelona are pronounced "th", so the words sound like "grathias" and "Barthelona". Fortunately I was prepared for it, but it still takes some getting used to.
Between opening their shops late (usually around 11am) and taking a siesta in the afternoon from around 2-5pm, it's hard to imagine that, on average, the people of Spain get an hour less of sleep than any other European country, but trust me on this one.
Today is my last day here in Madrid and aside from a few delays with the trains, (which I now account for in my estimations of travel time), my arrival was without incident. The greatest adjustment has been from the crisp chill of France's 60F to the body draining humidity of Madrid's 106F! Still trying to figure out what is going on, my body shut down and I've gotten sick...these things happen and I suppose it's all part of the experience right? Either way it got me to stop and take in what is going on around me rather than running from museum to historical sight like I've been doing in the cities up until this point. If it wasn't me getting sick that slowed me down, it would have been the heat.
I've been able to meet more people and to catch up on some of the audio books I've been wanting to read. Currently, I'm reading "For Whom the Bell Tolls" and feel like I'm still experiencing the country/city because the book takes place in Madrid. I've included my favorite quote so far below. I'm sorry this entry will be brief because I'm really not feeling very well.

"And for her everything was red, orange, gold-red from the sun on the closed eyes and it was all that color, all of it. The filling, the possessing, the having, all of that color, all in a blindness of that color. For him it was a dark passage that led to no where, then to no where, then again to no where, once again to no where, always and forever to no where. Heavy on the elbows on the earth to no where. Dark, never any end to no where. Hung on all time always to unknowing no where. This time and again for always to no where. Now, not to be born once again, always and to no where. Now beyond all, bearing up, up, up and into no where. Suddenly, scaldingly, holdingly all no where gone and time absolutely still and they were both there, time having stopped. And he felt the earth move out and away from under them. Then he was lying on his side, his head deep in the heather smelling it and the smell of the roots and the earth and the sun came through it..." For Whom the Bell Tolls