And on and on...
So after landing in London, there was a brief layover, and feeling a little blurry, there was time to refeul with some "real" food from an airport cafe. Wow, the Pound is expensive.
Back in the air, bound for Madrid, I managed to fall asleep, having by this time secured myself the emergency row, but the nap didn't lasty long as I was off and runn
ing once we landed in Madrid's sprawling international airport to which they've added curving modern rooftops and totally expanded since the last time I was there about 5 years ago. I had very inteligently attempted to fly the cheapest, most direct way to Granada from San Francisco, but the airlines thwarted my "simple" travlocity-bought plan. So after switching from British Airways to Iberia in London, I now had to quickly change terminals and airlines, running through the terminal, taking a shuttle bus and then sprinting to the Air Europa desk where I was given the ticket to the next destination en route to Granada, the island of Mallorca. Exhausted by now, sweating and smelly as I arrived at the gate in the final moments of boarding, I quickly "washed" in the mens' room and changed shirts. Sleeping the whole way to the island, I awoke confused but once again had no time to find my bearings, just darting through the suprisingly large Palma de Mallorca ai
rport. 
Despite the best efforts of the kind Mallorcan staff, I was unable to find the ticket counter efficiently and ended up in another mad cap dash to the first available agent, where I found they had been holding the plane for my smelly ass. I said an enthusiastic "Muchicimas Gracias," and ran for the gate. I slept the rest of the way to Granada. (Sounds like some horrid reality-tv show testing travelers' endurance... needless to say I was excited and blessed that at the last minute I decided to only bring a carry-on...)
Back in the air, bound for Madrid, I managed to fall asleep, having by this time secured myself the emergency row, but the nap didn't lasty long as I was off and runn
ing once we landed in Madrid's sprawling international airport to which they've added curving modern rooftops and totally expanded since the last time I was there about 5 years ago. I had very inteligently attempted to fly the cheapest, most direct way to Granada from San Francisco, but the airlines thwarted my "simple" travlocity-bought plan. So after switching from British Airways to Iberia in London, I now had to quickly change terminals and airlines, running through the terminal, taking a shuttle bus and then sprinting to the Air Europa desk where I was given the ticket to the next destination en route to Granada, the island of Mallorca. Exhausted by now, sweating and smelly as I arrived at the gate in the final moments of boarding, I quickly "washed" in the mens' room and changed shirts. Sleeping the whole way to the island, I awoke confused but once again had no time to find my bearings, just darting through the suprisingly large Palma de Mallorca ai
rport. 
Despite the best efforts of the kind Mallorcan staff, I was unable to find the ticket counter efficiently and ended up in another mad cap dash to the first available agent, where I found they had been holding the plane for my smelly ass. I said an enthusiastic "Muchicimas Gracias," and ran for the gate. I slept the rest of the way to Granada. (Sounds like some horrid reality-tv show testing travelers' endurance... needless to say I was excited and blessed that at the last minute I decided to only bring a carry-on...)
posted by Elmore S Leopold at 6/16/2006
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