Wednesday June 29,
2011 Day
364
We had a wakeup call set for 7:00, and Roger also set
the alarm, so we woke on time, and then we entered the Barcelona leg of hell.
We dressed, assembled our luggage, and were out of the hotel and in a taxi
before 7:30. We arrived at the train station and wrestled our luggage in. I
left Roger guarding it while I went and checked out the airport train. I found
the information and got in line for tickets. When I got to the front, the cost
was six Euros, and I had only five. I offered my credit card, but the clerk
needed to see ID to use it. Roger handles our passports and I have not carried
my Louisiana driver’s license here in Europe, so I had nothing. I left the line
and got money from Roger and we headed down to Platform 9. Both the elevator
and the escalator were broken, so we had to handle our luggage downstairs. I
took two items down, blocking the entire escalator in the process. Then I took
the escalator back up and grabbed two more pieces of luggage which Roger left
at the top when he saw me coming up. Again, I blocked the entire escalator
until halfway down, when a lovely young gentleman came along, grabbed the
larger of the two suitcases and carried it down for me. I thanked him profusely
and began to orient us. The next airport train was slotted for 8:09 – later
than we wanted to be, but it was what it was. Several minutes later I checked
the schedule again, and there was a sign about a train being out of service.
Then the full schedule popped up again and the next airport train was slotted
for 8:19. AAGGGGGHHHHHHH! It was hot waiting for the train – when we got on it,
a readout indicated that it was 29 degrees, or 85 degrees F. I had sweat
dripping from my brow, and we were both sweating on our chests and backs.
Further, the trains were very noicy, making the wait miserable. The train
finally arrived and we got to the airport stop at about 8:30 for our 10:00 a.m
departure. While on the train, Roger remarked that he hoped there were luggage
carts available immediately. No such luck. Instead we had to hop a shuttle bus
for the last 4 kilometres to the terminal. I went to the back door of the
shuttle to enter because there was more room, but Roger got into the front of
the shuttle. I kept looking for him, and he finally called from inside the
shuttle that he was already on. I wrestled my three pieces of luggage on, then
clambered aboard. As I turned let go of the bag that held our computers, it
toppled out of the shuttle. Angry, I got off and hauled it back on, and thus
began my first meltdown of the day. Back on the shuttle, I shouted at the
luggage and kicked the two other bags – I figured that the red bag with our
computers had had enough abuse already. Then I called out “sorry, pardon,
desolé” to everyone on the bus and sat down to cry/ My anxiety level was high
because I was tired and frustrated and fearful that we would miss our
transatlantic flight. I was also thirsty, but I left our water bottle in the
hotel, knowing we could not take it through security. Further, it was already
26 degrees (80 degrees F.) in Barcelona at 8:00 a.m., and it had been even
hotter in the subway terminal. Sweat was dripping off my brow as we waited for
the train, and we were both sweating down our chests and backs. Later I
realized that I was also hungry, as we had planned to breakfast in the airport,
and never had time for that.
We arrived at the terminal and found the Delta Atlanta
line almost empty, thankfully. One of our bags was overweight and we had to
play musical-belongings. We were also informed that we had too many carry-ons,
and we would have to check one (at a cost of 70€). We got the luggage issue
straightened out and were directed to a *vacant agent for check-in. One of the
first questions she asked us was why we were late with our check-in. She
accepted the subway train breakdown as an excuse; actually, it was a
combination of so many things – fatigue, lack of familiarity with the process
for getting the train to the airport, lots of luggage, and the subway issue
being among the top ones. She checked us through and gave us our boarding
passes for Atlanta, but instructed us to get our boarding passes for Barcelona
at the gate. Then it was on to security, where I had my next meltdown. At
security in Barcelona, you put all your belongings in those trays, then you
have to carry the trays around a partition and load them into the machine –
there is no mechanism for just pushing them all the way from the table to the
machine. While I was loading the first of our six or so tray, a woman came and
stood behind me, in front of Roger. I looked at her and snapped “Are you going
to Atlanta? Because if you are not, you had better not think of getting in our
way!” and I stepped around her to grab another tray. When I turned back again
for another tray, she was gone, but I was so angry at this point that I was starting
to shout at her and at the world in general. The security agent at the scanner
suggested that I had better calm down, and I broke into tears. I am not totally
stupid, however. I did calm down, and I apologized to him as I came through.
Our belongings came through without a problem, but Roger forgot to take off his
hat, which is full of hat pins, so he had to go through additional security
measures; fortunately there was no strip search. Next was customs, where we
lucked out – a customs official opened a new line just as we were approaching
and we were first in his line. That took only a moment and we were on our way
to the gate.
There were plenty of people still standing around at
the gate. Roger offered to go get some water, as I had complained for a second
time of being thirsty, while I took the passports and got our boarding passes.
When I got to the desk, there were only two boarding passes on the desk – with
our names on them! Alleluia! Roger was nowhere in sight but I got in line for
boarding. I stepped aside once, waiting on him, but he finally showed up,
carrying not only water but a muffin!! Bless his heart!! He really takes care
of me – and this time he was a real lifesaver! This was when I finally
realized I was hungry. My hands were full, so he fed me pieces of muffin all
the way down the escalator.
Our seats were not together – we had known they would
not be. When we discovered that mine was an aisle seat and his was not, we
swapped – his long legs really suffer from being unable to stretch out in a
center seat. Finally, I was able to relax. I settled into my seat and began to
talk with a seatmate. I hadn’t been sitting there long when Roger came to my
rescue again, bringing me the rest of the muffin.
Once the flight was underway, I settled in to sleep. I
don’t know how long I had been sleeping when I felt someone tapping my hand. I
opened my eyes to see Roger handing me something, which turned out to be my
vitamin and my two glucosamine tablets. The former was a little worse for the wear,
and he told me later that he gave me the better of the two. He had placed them
in his shirt pocket for distribution to us later in the day, and they had
gotten wet from sweat. I had shucked my sweater and my jacket in the subway,
and both had ended up in the backpack, which Roger had back at his seat. This
left me in a sleeveless sweater, so I asked him for the jacket and sweater, and
he brought them both. Thus warmed, I fell asleep until lunch was served. I had
two glasses of wine with lunch, which mellowed me considerably, and I slept
again after lunch until my watch read about 2:00 p.m. Considerably refreshed
and rested, and in a MUCH better mood, I opened my computer and began to blog.
Roger came by later and remarked that I was finally awake – I don’t know how
many times he came to check on me.
To add insult to injury, in the Atlanta airport, after
we finished our processing and left Concourse E to go to Concourse B for our
flight to Dallas, we hopped aboard the shuttle in the lower level of the terminal
to take us there. It went to Concourse D, then broke down and refused to move.
What is it with us and trains these days???
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