Two years ago, I undertook the adventure of a lifetime. I decided to walk 900km, by myself, from the Western edge of France to the coast of Spain on the other side. At the time, I didn't blog about it. Now, many moons later, I feel ready to resurrect my notes and post them. I will - at some stage - finish sorting through the several thousand photos I took. I promise. It's just that when you're hiking nine hours a day, often going several days without seeing another person, there's not a whole lot to do but photograph EVERYTHING.We begin at the beginning, with a week in Barcelona. I have left my style of writing as it was then - less concerned with spelling and grammar, and more concerned with not spending all my Euros on the internet. You know.
---
i am safe in barcelona although this keyboard seems to hate me and not want me to use any capital letters, ever. sometimes not vowels or consonants either. so please forgive that.
firstly - i have not been able to find a spanish sim card, so close family and friends, if you don´t hear from me, that´s why. I´ll email when in cities to let you know i am alive. oddly, nobody in spain seems to want to sell anything cellphone-related. it is weird coming from SA where every second shop will sell you a sim card. i have walked this city flat for three hours and not seen anything close to a sim card. there is, however, beer on every corner. literally. from early in the morning. (or maybe i am just staying in a dodgy part of town, which is also possible. in fact, probable.)
if you are not close family or friends you can stop reading now if you like, because the rest of this letter is likely to be full of completely useless information that will bore you to tears. of course, you are welcome to carry on if you have nothing better to do.
the flight here was mostly uneventful. i found my way onto the right flight without any trouble and fell asleep almost immediately on the plane. i sat next to a very nice lady who is apparently quite a well known former pro tennis player who now coaches all sorts of famous rising stars but i didn´t have a clue who she was and didn´t like to ask. anyway, she was very sweet when i was conscious, which wasn´t for long. i must say, my dad has given me many good things but the one i am most grateful for is the one he gave unintentionally, which is the ability to sleep absolutely anywhere and in any position. i literally passed out cold and woke up when we landed in madrid.
let me tell you though. if i am a very bad girl, i am definitely going to madrid airport when i die. there are no words for that place. it is completely illogical and as such is the perfect home for iberia staff, who are also not my idea of the friendly over-solicitous flight attendant. they just do not smile. the only person who was nice to me was a passport control policeman who, when i asked how he was, said ´not as good as you, because you are on holiday´and then asked me very earnestly if the correct word was ´well´or ´good´. well, you can take the girl out of the editing job but you can´t take the editing job out of the girl, so we had a lovely chat about grammar and then i wished him a nice day. however, it was downhill from there. when i was at joburg airport the iberia ground staff told me that madrid was just a quick stop and i would probably not even have to leave the plane. har har. when i got to madrid, we were unceremoniously booted off but the staff did not know where the barcelona passengers had to go! i asked the flight attendant and she had no clue, and the most i could get out of any of the ground staff was ´we don´t know, but follow letter J, flights to barcelona have letter J´. now i should point out that the ticket did not even indicate that we had to change planes in madrid, only joburg, let alone actually saying things like what time the next flight was or where we should board it. and there are NO signs anywhere in madrid airport, while what is actually signposted is done completely illogically. and you know that if i find something illogical, it must be pretty bad.
when i got to customs i managed to set off the alarms and at that crucial moment where i was really pushed for time and still had no idea where to go, ended up having to remove my jacket, my boots, my belt, my etc etc etc to try and find the thing that was setting off the alarm. i felt like mr bean in that horrible gift-wrapping scene in Love Actually, only it wasn´t funny. i was body searched like nobody´s business and FINALLY, as i watched the precious seconds ticking away, we figured out that it was a frigging packet of chewing gum (the tinfoilwrapping had set off the metal detector). breath so fresh it´s considered a weapon. now there´s an advertising slogan for you.
anyhow, i eventually found the information desk which had a queue snaking around the corner, and i knew i didn´t have long to get onto my flight because the board already said ´last call´, so i was busy having hysterics when the customs official who had body-searched me walked past. well, call me crazy but maybe being felt up and groped in bits i didn´t know i had maybe gave me a false sense of familiarity, so i went up to him intending only to ask if he knew where gate J was. he barked ´INFORMAÇION!´ and bodily rotated me towards the long queue. i mean really, would it have killed him just to say ´through that gate'? i´m afraid i called him some names that would have got me arrested if he spoke english, which fortunately he did not, although i may have muttered something about y tu p**s de mama under my breath (janine suggested ´madrid es pero un lugar kak´ (madrid is maar a kak place)). so i stood in the queue from hell waiting for a confused-looking ouma and about 50 others to ask their questions, and eventually was told which way to go for gate J.
now, you would think, would you not, that J would be somewhere between gates H and K. It is not. It is nowhere near there. I found gate A, B, C, D E,F, G,H...and K. Followed by L, M, N. But no J. what is that even?? J, for some reason known only to the spanish, turned out to be WAAAAY down the other side, nearer to Z. anyway, i sprinted like nobody´s business and made it *right* as they were closing the boarding gates. relief. i got onto the plane and although my seat was in between a fat lady and a broad greasy young man, i fell asleep again immediately and only woke up in barcelona.this is perhaps how everyone should exprience transit in madrid, i feel. just shut your eyes until it´s all gone away.
the rest of my day has been pretty uneventful except that i smell like a person who has been on a plane for a day and a half. my hotel only opens at 2 but it seems to be quite a find - it is cheaper than your average b & b in cape town and from what i can see, not at all skanky. the staff were very helpful too, and i can decide day by day whether i want to stay on. so that´s good. it´s also very close to the station where i will catch the train to st jean. and barcelona airport, just by the way, is HEAVEN. the signs are so clear and the people are friendly and helpful. the only hiccup was my taxi man thinking i asked to go to the Catalan Rumble and not being able to convey to me in spanish that he did not know what i was talking about. (for the record, i´d asked for the Catalonia Roma Hotel). but we muddled through and now i am here, having dropped my luggage off at the hotel this morning and spent the last few hours wandering about and exploring the area. i´m a little hungry but my hopes are not high for finding a healthy nutritious lunch - everything here seems to be rolled in pork or dipped in chocolate (mercifully not both). i went to a supermarket to try and get a light something which was an education - even the Special K, despite having the same branding as in SA, is actually little clusters dipped in chocolate!! i eventually bought ´all bran with fruit´ which turned out to be a box of giant sweet apple cookies with the barest hint of bran underneath. maar nou ja. i can chew and swallow. this is a good feeling.
No comments:
Post a Comment