Back in May, John and I took a trip to Europe. I posted a ton of photos on Facebook, but wanted to post them here as well, travel journal style. Since May is just the beginning of wedding season, it took me 7 or 8 months to get around to it.
5.29.10 Pittsburgh, Chicago, Madrid, Barcelona
Our trip started out sort of bumpy. I must have been in a rush getting boarded, and put my passport in my pocket. Of course, the thing fell out during the flight. Except I didn’t notice. And the pilot found it, so they paged us. But we were already out of the terminal. So I didn’t notice it had gone missing until we go to the Iberia gate, and needed to get them out.
Millie, our gate agent (who we got to know rather well over this course of events) sent me back to the gate we came in from, to see if someone had found it. Doing my best Amazing Race impression, I ran back to Terminal One, where I found out that the pilot had found my passport, but that we had no way to hunt down the pilot. A very kind stranger, who was also having a terrible day, loaned me his cell phone to call John and fill him in. Oh right, I also didn’t bring my cell phone on this trip.
I book it back to Terminal Three, because they can’t call each other (what?). If you haven’t been to O’Hare, these are a good run and a shuttle ride apart. I spent most of the morning running between the lost and found at Terminal One, and our gate at Terminal Three. When I show up at the lost and found for the third time, it’s good news! They have my passport. At our gate. In the other terminal. We’re crazy late for our flight at this point, and I thought there was no way they’d let us on, but at least now we could book another. Still, I ran as fast as I could and when I get there, I find out that we can still make the flight. Maybe. We’re running, and Millie escorted us through, so we could skip the line at security. John’s carrying my bags, and we’re sprinting through the airport. Of course, ours is the very last gate. We made it, but just barely, and fell in a heap into our plane seats.
We met a lovely girl named Lucia, who sat next to us for 11.5 hours. This is Lucia at the Madrid airport – I only took this one photo the whole day, since it was so hectic. She was teaching English in Italy for the summer. I couldn’t get any sleep on the plane, so by the time we landed in Madrid (the next day), I’d been up for around 22 hours. It’s a shame I didn’t take more photos, Madrid’s airport is pretty cool looking. Lucia was going to the same gate as we were, so we traveled as a group, and John carried her insanely heavy bag (he’s a nice boy).
Madrid to Barcelona was a short flight, but after the ride in, I didn’t want to get on another plane. I was about 6 hours late on doing my IV, so I had to find somewhere to do my infusion. Well, somewhere ended up being an airport bathroom.
I know, I know. I used a lot of alcohol wipes. I ended up using a bongo tie from my lighting kit to hang it (is there anything bongo ties can’t do?) After hanging out in the bathroom for close to an hour, and narrowly avoiding sepsis, we made our way to the ship. I don’t think our cabbie spoke any English at all, but he got us there no problem. We found our room, and immediately took a two hour nap. We had to suffer through the life vest demonstration, checked out the ship, and ate dinner. 9:00 Barcelona time, which was about 3:00 home time. We’d left 31 hours ago, and I slept for two of them, so I was pretty gone. Tomorrow, Monte Carlo. But first, sleep.