Months before we left on our journey, it seemed practical to fly to Spain the day after finishing the school year. This schedule, however, led to a frantic scramble to complete my work responsibilities and pack. Thrown into the final push was a series of celebratory and going away dinners because our friends are the best. The capper was a staff party at Jane's followed by a sixth grade "We made it" celebration dinner. We wandered home in a blurred state the eve of our adventure faced with a 5:00 AM departure.
Our journey to the airport was uneventful. 40th and Airport is the beta for traveling. Unlimited free long term parking in a well lit lot that is patrolled. $7 shuttle drops you right at the door of the terminal. Check out http://www.rtd-denver.com/skyRide/ for directions ect.
Having checked in and passing through security with hours to spare, we were feeling good. We did it! We were heading to Spain!
The monitor displayed Flight Canceled, setting off a series of near catastrophes. We proceeded to the flight canceled line and waited for 45 minutes with a large group of disgruntled passengers. The United person hooked us up with an alternative flight plan, which involved a high paced, high stress series of connections from Chicago to Newark. We had no more than 15 minutes to arrive, figure out our gate and run to make our flight. Both connections were a last call slide to the finish. We did it though, and we again felt satisfied to arrive in Barcelona via Portugal.
With the terrible lost baggage experiences of our friend Jenn at the front of our mind, we watched the baggage dispenser with reserved hope. I mentally rejoiced as bag 1, 2, and 3 appeared, but we were left hanging as Wendy's climbing pack was MIA. We were assured the bag would be delivered to our hotel the following day. After picking up our kickin, black Peugot rental, we headed to our hotel and collapsed into a deep sleep.
More good beta: Carjet.com for car rental. Much cheaper than other companies.
The following morning I called and was happy to hear that the bag was at the airport. I requested for them to keep the bag, we jumped in the kickin Peugot and rallied to the airport ready make tracks for Rodellar. During this time the airline was gracious enough to send the bag out in a van destined, eventually, for our hotel.
I had come up with a great plan to manage our funds. Wendy and I put $200 euro each into an old airline envelope to pay for our shared expenses on the trip. While awaiting Wendy's bag we walked over to a shopping center to have lunch. On our walk, I noticed I had an old airline envelope in my pocket, and no longer needing my ticket stubs, I threw the envelope into a garbage can on the street corner. Yes, that envelope contained $400 euro. When it came time to pay for lunch, Wendy inquired as to the whereabouts of our group fund. At that time, the realization of my idiocy struck me like an electric shock. I feigned ignorance, and suggested we immediately return to the hotel to see if the bag had arrived. As we approached the corner trash can containing our money, I was demoralized to see that all of the street trash cans contained new, clean trash bags. While I am an absentminded dimwit, I am also lucky. I strolled by the corner garbage can, plucked out our money, and immediately turned responsibility for group fund management over to Wendy.
The bag arrived and we left Barcelona eager to get to Rodellar. We were filled with anticipation imagining Rodellar as the ultimate sport climbing destination.
Stay tuned for part 2 of Tales of Spain
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