We departed from the bus station the next morning, the hordes of festering humanity generally displaying the worst behavior that our species has to offer (crowding, pushing, arguing, etc.). An unfortunate couple of young French girls boarded the wrong bus, and were left tearfully behind. Despite the surging panic in my gut at the prospect of having nothing booked once we got to Paris, the trip across the Chunnel was interesting, as I’ve never travelled by train underwater before (imagine that).
Six hours later, we left our bus in Paris and immediately jumped in line to book another to Madrid. Fortunately, someone was in the mood to make some money out of this crisis, and Eurolines had allocated extra buses for Madrid. Elated, we bought our tickets for an overnight bus and checked into a hotel a few blocks away. We dined in our room on deliciously stinky camembert and crusty baguette, with a red wine chaser.
The next day we didn’t check out until noon, overtly aware that we wouldn’t be able to shower or sleep in a proper bed for the next two days. We loaded up on delicious snacks, and returned to our new favorite hobby: standing in line. We did manage to meet a Spanish girl whose father is American, which came in handy later, as the drivers on our bus spoke zero English.
Of all the uncomfortable modes of transport during the course of our trip, this was undoubtedly the most unpleasant. Upon boarding, our driver refused to allow us to bring our food onboard, wouldn’t let us get it from the baggage at the next rest stop (as he had promised), and finally let us retrieve it four hours later. Sitting in front of Marnie was an irritable Frenchie who reclined his seat all the way back, leaving his large shaven head a foot away from her face. Our drivers insisted on blaring loud, obnoxious salsa music from the speakers and playing Spanish dubbed action movies on the small TV, making sleep nearly impossible.
Arriving in Madrid, we took a taxi to the airport and sat waiting on the floor until the EgyptAir counter finally opened for check-in. It turns out we needn’t have been so early- our flight to Cairo was an hour and a half late taking off. The fact that the plane was old enough to still have ashtrays in the armrests was not inspiring. We arrived in Egypt nervous about encountering trouble from customs, but breezed right on through. Cairo actually has a much nicer airport than Madrid, although we shouldn’t have been surprised that purchasing drinks in a desert is quite expensive.
And so it was that we finally embarked on our final leg “home” to Johannesburg, five days later than scheduled.
Six hours later, we left our bus in Paris and immediately jumped in line to book another to Madrid. Fortunately, someone was in the mood to make some money out of this crisis, and Eurolines had allocated extra buses for Madrid. Elated, we bought our tickets for an overnight bus and checked into a hotel a few blocks away. We dined in our room on deliciously stinky camembert and crusty baguette, with a red wine chaser.
The next day we didn’t check out until noon, overtly aware that we wouldn’t be able to shower or sleep in a proper bed for the next two days. We loaded up on delicious snacks, and returned to our new favorite hobby: standing in line. We did manage to meet a Spanish girl whose father is American, which came in handy later, as the drivers on our bus spoke zero English.
Of all the uncomfortable modes of transport during the course of our trip, this was undoubtedly the most unpleasant. Upon boarding, our driver refused to allow us to bring our food onboard, wouldn’t let us get it from the baggage at the next rest stop (as he had promised), and finally let us retrieve it four hours later. Sitting in front of Marnie was an irritable Frenchie who reclined his seat all the way back, leaving his large shaven head a foot away from her face. Our drivers insisted on blaring loud, obnoxious salsa music from the speakers and playing Spanish dubbed action movies on the small TV, making sleep nearly impossible.
Arriving in Madrid, we took a taxi to the airport and sat waiting on the floor until the EgyptAir counter finally opened for check-in. It turns out we needn’t have been so early- our flight to Cairo was an hour and a half late taking off. The fact that the plane was old enough to still have ashtrays in the armrests was not inspiring. We arrived in Egypt nervous about encountering trouble from customs, but breezed right on through. Cairo actually has a much nicer airport than Madrid, although we shouldn’t have been surprised that purchasing drinks in a desert is quite expensive.
And so it was that we finally embarked on our final leg “home” to Johannesburg, five days later than scheduled.
Hello my weary travelers! Aunt Deb told me about your little European adventure. I'm kind of jealous of those unplanned surprises and even that ash, but I'm glad your both safe and back home. I finally had a day to watch some football today- Liverpool vs Chelsea and Real Madrid vs Osasuna and afterward there was a spectacular commercial for the FIFA World Cup (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXlBSlyU8xY)Basically it's a video about how for one month all 32 nations will come togehter with one world watching and I sooooo wish I was going to be there in person! Anyways I wanted to check in and tell you that I love and miss you both dearly! Be safe!
ReplyDelete<3 Love, Katie