The day started out wonderfully. We woke up and watched election results during breakfast before heading towards the meeting place for our Gaudi tour. Gaudi was an extremely famous architect from Barcelona. He was sort of a mad genius and designed some amazing houses, parks and other things throughout Barcelona.
The tour ended at La Segrada Familia, so we caught some lunch before going inside. It is just as fabulous on the inside as it is on the outside. From the cathedral we went to Guell Park. The park is incredible. We got some amazing views of the city and saw one of Gaudi's own place of residence. We left the park and tried to catch the train back to the airport.
La Segrada Familia
The climb to the park
We finally made it to the top.
La Segrada Familia is on the right.
I have kept you in suspense long enough. Here is where the drama starts. First off, I was pickpocketed on the way to the train station. A man kicked my suitcase and as I turned to see who did it he walked by, put his hand in my coat pocket and took my phone and a pack of gum. Luckily it was a POS phone that wasn't connected to my credit card, but annoying nonetheless. At the train station we were getting very confused and asked for help. The attendant told us that platform 9 carried the train to the Airport, so we went to platform 9 and boarded the train. Here a piece of important travel advice: always check the departure board to make sure you are boarding the right train. Platform 9 is where the train to the airport leaves, but it's not the only train to leave from that platform. That's right, we boarded a mid-distance train that did not stop at the airport. When the ticket man came around, he read our ticket and informed us of our horrible blunder. The first stop was an hour out of the way. Luckily the ticket man didn't make us pay for a new ticket. He probably saw the panicked faces and knew we weren't lying. Being on that train meant we were going to miss our flight. About 10 minutes after the ticket man passed us, Steph got a text saying our flight had been cancelled due to the ash cloud. On one hand it was a relief that we weren't going to miss our flight due to stupidity, but on the other, if we didn't get to the airport before our flight was scheduled to leave, we wouldn't get the free rebooking. So one panic was replaced with another.
At the first stop we got off bought new tickets and nearly missed the first train heading back towards Barcelona. On the train we encountered some Spanish men who, at first, seemed to want to help, but later ended up annoying the crap out of me. We were having communication problems because we spoke very little Spanish and these boys spoke very little English. After discovering that the main guy was not in fact insulting me, but instead hitting on me by asking if I was married I had had enough, and luckily they left the train. Note to all men: Women who looked annoyed will only get more annoyed when bothered.
So we finally made it back to the airport and in time and rebooked our flight with EasyJet to a flight to Newcastle (in Northeastern England) for 2 PM the next day. It was 9 by this time and EasyJet was supposed to provide us with accommodation for the night, but not dinner and we were starving. We left Terminal C to Terminal B to eat, but when we returned the Terminal C was CLOSED! So no accommodation for us, which meant a wonderful night in the airport for us. I never knew that Spain could be so cold. People tried to scam me, I was hit up for money, and it was nearly impossible to fall asleep because there was no warm part of that building.
The next day, after failing to standby on an earlier flight we made our way to our gate only to find out that our flight was, once again, cancelled. We had to "re-enter" the country in order leave the gate. Starting to sound like a trip from hell? What really stumped me was that flights were leaving for London, but our flight for Newcastle couldn't handle it. Once again we waited in line to rebook for a flight to Bristol (Southwest England) for 2 PM on Monday. Even though we rebooked, we really couldn't wait that long. We all finals and papers to complete by then so we began a mission to find a flight to England for that night. Mission Impossible? Maybe. It looked that way.
When the coach arrived it turned out that we couldn't board without having pre-purchased tickets. Snubbed again. The only way home now as to take the train to Euston, London that didn't leave until 5 AM. Another night in a transportation station... Grrrreaaaat! Manchester train station. was even colder and more uncomfortable than the Barcelona Airport.
I don't know if there is anything more torturous than being sleep deprived and impatient. I would close my eyes open them, and realize that two minutes had passed since the last time I had looked at the clock. I tried to watch a movie on my ipod, but I could barely get through a scene before pressing the menu button to find out how much time had passed. I was physically shaking for hours from cold and exhaustion. Longest night of my life.
Proof I was in Manchester
At 7:30 AM we arrived at Euston train station, and shortly after 8 we arrived back at our dorm. I entered my room, broke some drinking glasses that were poorly positioned on the desk, sent a few e-mails (like to my professor and boss to say why I wasn't going into work that day), showered and fell into the most rewarding sleep of my life.
I had been awake for nearly 66 hours, suffered a wrong train, two cancelled flights, two nights in a transportation station and completed no Homework or studying while wasting nearly two days in travel debacles. Now that's a story for the kids some day.
Wooh, that was exhausting to write about let alone live. My next post will be a quick overview of my last few days in the Central program followed by my Mom's visit to London. More travel stories to come.
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