Finally made it to Espana! Although getting here was nothing short of a nightmare. After leaving my mom at the airport balling my eyes out at 2pm, I finally made it past security and into my gate in the Louisville airport. My flight from Louisville to Philly was basically painless, aside from the fact that my 15 lb backpack was too fat to fit under the chair in front of me. Coincidently, I sat directly across from a fellow Kentuckian, soon to be fellow estudiante de Granada, named Herbie, who is from Danville. We talked through most of the flight, and shortly thereafter I found myself panicking about arriving. We had connecting flights at gates in the same terminal, but not much time in between so we both hurried on, hoping to grab dinner before our (what should have been) 7 hour flights. Herbie flew from Philly to Zurich, luckily and so missed out on the impending fun.
Shortly after leaving Herbie, I checked in with the desk to confirm my flight to Madrid! I was so excited, finally alone and nervous as all hell. Yet the second I turned away from the reception desk, a tiny girl chirped up behind me.... something something something "from Madrid to Malaga...." I think I spun on a dime. I almost screamed at her "ARE YOU IN THE IES GRANADA PROGRAM?!" but I managed to control myself until she finished her conversation. Her name was Heather, from Denver, and we ate McDonald's happily on the floor of the terminal gate. (Little did we know it would probably be our last American meal for a long while, and also our last time sitting on the floor, but more on that later.) We boarded quickly and without incident, and actually sat only a row away from each other. Between us was only a recent college grad, Michael, headed to Madrid to be a TA for a year. We chatted it up merrily for the first few hours, and quickly thereafter I took my tylenol PM in hopes of actually sleeping on a plane for once. I didn't make it past the smell of dinner 20 rows ahead of me 1 hour in. About 2 and a half hours in and halfway through "The Proposal" our pilot announced that one of the navigation systems (of the four on the plane) was broken and it was on the captain's side. Now, even though the plane can more than function with 3/4 navigation systems...
"Here at US Airways we don't take chances. So we are not going to Madrid. We are going to turn around and fly back to Philadelphia and see if they can fix this problem."
Great. I immediately start histerically laughing. Loudly. On a plane full of now very angry and concerned Spaniards and Americans and Italians. I found this was an inappropriate response by most global standards but what are my options? I was freaking out before I knew the plane was broken! Histeria is clearly the next alternative.
So, two hours later we arrive in Philadelphia, again, kind of. We learned shorlty after that, "At the moment we are still too heavy to land safely and need to burn more fuel before we can touch down. We should be on the ground in about 45 minutes." Somebody help me. Tell me we're not flying around in circles above the city that we left 5 hours ago? Anybody???
6 hours into the flight we land.... in Philadelphia. I repeat. I have been on an international flight, with over 200 international travelers, flying over 1,500 miles for 6 hours and have gone NO WHERE! La viaje sola puede mejorar desde aqui!
One hour later, the navigation system is fixed (note: no one was able to leave the plane, and we had to remain in our seats so that flight attendants could pass out changes in everyone's connection flights). At 12:45 am we take off from Philly. Again. I've been traveling for 10 hours and haven't even left the US. At this rate, I could have driven to Philadelphia to get on this flight. Actually one passenger left his cell phone in the airport and was able to get it back! Great for him... Horrible for everyone else. Starving, tired and on the verge of a nervous break down, I take two more tylenol PMs in hopes that this will makes things better. Turns out even with drugs I can't sleep on planes and instead had horrible nightmares about how my sister was eaten by a sperm whale sized shark on a raft and I wasn't close enough to help her and about people yelling at me that I was doing something horribly wrong in a language I couldn't understand.... Anybody seeing the signs?
We finally arrive in Madrid at 1pm local time, 7am at home. We were supposed to arrive at 8am. My connection flight has also now changed from Spanair to Iberia, two different Spanish airlines. My new flight leaves at 355pm. So we leave terminal 1, where we landed and go through customs, and leave our bags. After talking to three different people, who immediately started speaking to us in English as soon as we said "hola" told us to leave our checked luggage and go to terminal 4. So we take the 10 minute bus ride, Heather and I and Alex, a boy from Rochester also on the plane, and proceed to stand in the longest line ever for iberia service after learning our tickets did not qualify us for auto check in. After standing in this line and changing lines and meeting two more IES students, Jillian and Claire, and trying to recheck Claire's bags, we learn that since US Airways has not sent a verification letter of the change and basically, the credit card and until they do so, it's like walking away from a seat and not calling 5s. You can have it, but someone else can take it if you dont say it soon.
So it's now 3pm, I should have been in Malaga 4 hours ago and I still dont have a flight there. After hastling with the airline attendants (and learning that I cannot speak spanish, and being told "no me entiendes" so many times I thought it was on repeat somewhere) Heather and Alex are confirmed on the 355 Iberia flight, Claire is confirmed on a 420 Iberia flight and Jillian and I are confirmed on a 540 Spanair flight, which departs from terminal 2. Hello? I know Meg and Paul are reading this screaming at the computer "See! I told you! It's a sign you shouldn't be in Spain! How many more do you need?! You should be here with me!"
Jillian and I travel to terminal 2, separately I might add, we originially though she was the only one on the flight at 540pm. We stop and eat, we havent had anything since orange juice and a apple pastry in plastic and that was over 6 hours ago. We have lunch, which for me consists of a 4th a piece of cheesy bread pretending to be pizza and strange fruits soaked to the core in acid juice that literally burnt my tongue. We get to the gate. We don't board for an hour and a half. Sweet. At the gate we meet Jake, another IES granada student on the now notorious "Philly Flight," and time passes a little quicker. Although none of us has slept, eaten, or communicated well to another person in nearly 12 hours. We are only hoping that our luggage somehow makes it, although our hopes are small. If my luggage is anywhere as confused as I am it has no idea what the eff is going on. We have now been confirmed on 3 different flights from Madrid to Malaga.
Eventually we arrive at the airport in Malaga, where we meet Anne, another IES student. I decide that I have met enough people trying to get to Spain that my quota of friendliness for the day is way past full. Ayudame Dios. By some miracle sent from the Saint of Good Travel, my luggage arrives. All of ours does. We share two cabs, Jake and I in one, Jillian and Anne in the other, to the hotel, 15 minutes away. We walk in greeted by Javier, the greatest man in spain (and also the director of IES Granada). He was surprisingly happy to see us, although I cannot say the smame. Herbie comes up to me asking what happened (we were supposed to arrive together in Malaga 10 hours ago. I hit the 24 hour mark as I walk into the hotel.
We learn we are leaving for a group walking tour in 15 minutes. Great, I have time to bano and wash my face, maybe fish out my toothbrush. I meet my roomate, who is spectacular, and am slightly less than cordial. This upsets me. But I am in no mood to entertain. A walk sounds like the worst idea EVER but of course, I go. The walk lasts 2 hours, followed by tapas and sangria at a local restraunt, which i'll admit did help, but I was so tired and angry by this point I think the only thing I said at dinner was "Sangria would be great."
When we finally came back, Anne and I hoped to go straight to bed. But walking in my room I found a note from Smiley on the floor asking me to come get her. I couldn't resist. She ended up staying in our room and chatting it up until almost one am. I have to admit just having her here makes me feel so much better. Honestly on my other trips abroad it was nice not really knowing anyone. But I'd had the day from hell, and to top it all off I can't understand the language, I mean I can but my translaters are way past functioning. I needed someone familiar, someone who already knew me and who i didn't have to try to make a stellar first impression so they dont think I'm a total biatch for the next 4 months more than Christmas needs Santa.... Thank god for Smiley. She was one of the few positive things to happen to me that day... two days... who knows. I guess I'm glad here?
Bed time now, echausted doesn't even begin to conver it. More on my first days here tomorrow. Until then.
Yours
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