Spain - Transport woes in Sevilla

In Spain, most touristy sights don't open till 9:30 or even 10:00am. Which was just as well, since it gave us a little more time to sleep in. We walked to the cathedral to take some touristy shots before heading to Plaza Nueva, where we met up with some of our hostel friends Steph and Jonathan, Eva and Bobby. The hostel had advertised a free walking tour that would commence at 11am. Either the Spanish went by Spanish time (i.e. very late) or perhaps it was a Sunday and the guide decided to take the day off, we didn't know. The walking tour never happened. In any case, our group took it upon ourselves to do some sightseeing of our own. We initially wanted to check out the Hospital de la Caridad because it closed at 12:30pm today, but walked past the Royal Alcazar (royal palace) on our way. Michaela, Sarah and I decided to hop in line to see the palace over the hospital. Due to hiccups in our travel plans, we had only half a day left in Sevilla, so we had time for just ONE tourist attraction. And c'mon, of course it had to be the palace. The palace over the hospital any day. Sevilla definitely deserves a visit of 2 or more days, but oh well,  it is what it is. Jonathan and Steph parted ways with the rest of us, while we got our tickets to see the Alcazar. Built in the 10th century for the governors of the Moorish state, it was extensively rebuilt in the 14th century under the rule of the Christian king Pedro I. The palace was elaborately decorated in the Mudejar style, which is a mix of Islamic and Christian elements, complete with colorful ceramic tiles, lush gardens, open courtyards and watery pools. We didn't regret picking this as our main sightseeing, only that we didn't have more time to stroll through the gardens on this beautiful day.

We rushed back to the hostel to collect our belongings before hopping into a taxi to head to the airport. Here, our troubles with transportation resumed. When changing our travel itinerary, all rebookings were done hastily, on websites that were fully in Spanish. Michaela and I had spent a lot of time and frustration cutting and pasting sections of the websites to Google Translate. Somewhere along the way, we had booked our flights out of Jerez, a different city one hour away, instead of Sevilla. And there was no way to change our flights as the next flight out of Jerez was two days later, and all flights out of Sevilla were booked solid. This meant we would miss at least a day or even two in Barcelona, which was to be our next destination. Us girls sat down in much defeat, typing furious on our various devices, trying to figure out the next best plan. In the end, we decided to reverse our itinerary, which was to catch a train to see Madrid first before going to Barcelona. Actually this worked out really well for me, as I eventually fly out of Barcelona anyway. But it meant changing train tickets, rebooking hostel reservations and coughing up more Euros. In any case, we were finally on our way again.

Spain - Arriving in Madrid

I landed at the Barcelona airport one hour after the scheduled time. The flight was delayed and held up in queue before taking off. It was as if all my good fortune had run out. I was supposed to land at 7:15am, make my way to the Barcelona train station, which was 30 minutes away, to catch an 11am train to Madrid to meet up with Michaela. Even with the one hour delay you would think that gave me plenty of time to get to the train station right? Wrong.

I had one checked bag. I sailed past immigration and hurried to the belt to collect my backpack. Unfortunately, the Catalans have a different sense of time, in other words, no sense of urgency at all. Which was admirable, except I had a train to catch. My bag took what seemed like eternity to get to me, and by the time I hopped into a taxi, it was half past 9. And then with the early morning traffic, I barely made it to the train station on time. To me at least. I arrived at 15 minutes past 10, with plenty of time to spare. But I always like to be early just so I don't stress out. Everything went fine, I got to the Madrid station and stepped out into really chilly weather. I hadn't brought a thicker coat for want of space in my backpack, but also it was supposed to be warmer! I had packed sun dresses, skirts and tank tops! It was rainy and chilly outside. Refrains of "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain" ran through my head.

The next hiccup came in the form of communication. Or the lack of. I couldn't get a hold of Michaela. I haven't figured out why my international roaming for data wasn't quite working and Michaela could only be reached via Whatsapp. So I couldn't call her. In our last communication, she said she'd find a place with free Wifi and text me where to meet. So I'm at the station, and still no texts from her. I didn't think to get her address so I couldn't even cab to her place and wait for her there. Some savvy traveller I was. I walked around the station and found the entrance to the Metro station. I thought, this would be the best place to wait since she was probably going to get here by the subway. So I hung around, crossed my fingers hoping for the best. To my relief, not too long after, I heard a shout from afar.

"Chewy!"

Michaela ran towards me and gave me a big hug, a little wet from the rain. After exiting the metro, she had gotten lost for 30 minutes trying to find her way to the train station. But she was here. We made our way to her apartment to drop off my belongings before heading out to dinner. We made our way to Plaza Mayor to have coffee and people watch, and strolled into the Mercado San Miguel to drool over the food extravaganza. The Mercado San Miguel is a food market that sold tapas, dessert, mojitos, sangrias. My favorite stall sold trays upon trays of olives. Olives wrapped in bacon, olives stuffed with ham, olives with sun dried tomatoes, olives with anchovies. You name it, they got it. The only reason we didn't get anything was because we were going to return to Madrid later in the trip with more friends and we thought we should all enjoy this experience together.

All seemed to end well for the day. We were supposed to meet her friend Sarah tomorrow in Malaga, and had booked the next few train tickets and hostel accommodations in advance. Unfortunately, Michaela got a text from Sarah who just found out she had booked the wrong tickets and was only going to arrive the day after. Which basically meant that all our schedules were thrown off by one day. We tried not to panic as we scrambled to make new plans for travel. We finally got our schedule figured out, went online to change our train tickets and to purchase new ones when our cards got declined. Every single one of them. Credit, debit, Visa, Master, Discover. My Bank of America card got put on hold because I had made three transactions in a row and was reported as "suspicious activity". Even though I had called before I left the U.S. to notify them of my travel plans. I mean, I appreciate the bank's diligence but really, this was not cool. Especially after I had responded to their email, text message and call to confirm that I had indeed made those transactions. They told me to try again in 10 minutes, but I was unable to use my card for the rest of the night. Undaunted, Michaela and I decide to try to purchase the tickets at the train station in Malaga as soon as we got there the next morning. We went to bed close to midnight because of all the shenanigans even though we had to be up early the next morning to catch a 7am train. Oh well, the trials and tribulations of traveling. C'est la vie!

Hola España!

Sitting in the airport again. Today marks 4 months since Justin's death. I am leaving for Barcelona in about an hour. I have had just about the best experiences along the way today. My Mr. Uber driver was super friendly and we chatted the entire way to the airport. He had a pair of binoculars sitting on his dashboard and I just had to ask if he was an avid birder like me. It turns out that he is an insurance claims agent, and uses his binoculars to survey roof damage.

The check-in agent who helped me with my bag was a jolly old man, but he had me a little uncertain at the beginning. All I said was "Excuse me sir, but I need help with my bag." And he stared at me for a good 30 seconds without a word. Now 30 seconds may seem like a short time, but when you're expecting a reply that can be one helluva an awkward pause. But really, he was just messing with me. He broke the silence and chuckled, "You have the cutest little face! You remind me of my granddaughter." Then the security checkpoint line was the shortest I have ever been in. I was through in a record breaking under-ten-minutes. Talk about stress free travel. Another traveler behind me asked the TSA agent for a band aid. I thought, for all the good fortune I've had so far, I think I'm going to pass it on. I reached into my purse and fished out a band aid for him. Even so, I was rewarded yet again in the next hour with commission-free currency exchange. I had sought out the little currency exchange booth but the lady was just about to take a 30minute break. She said if I wasn't in a hurry, I could wait for her to return. I agreed since I had plenty of time to spare anyway. And as if she felt bad for making me wait, she told me when I returned she wouldn't charge me a fee for the transaction. Score! But wait for it. As the plane to Barcelona closed it doors to the gate, I realized I was going to be the only one sitting in a row of three seats. Goodnight folks, I'm ready to sprawl out for bedtime.

Aloha Hawaii

In the entire day of traveling, I've not had a single soul sit next to me on the plane. Not from Charlotte to Atlanta, not Atlanta to San Francisco, not San Francisco to Seattle, or even Seattle to Hawaii. It makes me think I've had Justin sitting right next to me the entire time.

 I was excited about the airport in San Francisco. It has a yoga room. I walked into the empty low-lighted studio and did a full hour of yoga and meditation, interrupted on occasion by announcements over the PA system. Nobody else came in. If they did, they always left immediately, apologetic about the disruption. Really? We can share the room!

 Molly welcomed me at the airport with a lei in hand. "Welcome to Oahu!" as she garlanded me. I've been lei-ed.