So it begins. The awkward journey home. Bliss to those who have been away from family for too long, for those who miss the United States, for thoese who are ready for familiarity. Disappointment, or even discontent, to those of us who wanted to stay longer, to experience more, to drink in the gloriousness of travel and other cultures.
Have I waxed poetic enough? I thought so. I'll just get back to the heart of the matter. Like Don Henley.
I was not ready to leave. But we did. Early. I think Kyle was up at like 6:30am. I managed to sleep until 7am, and we both made it to breakfast, grabbed our bags, and made the bus by 8am.
After having a great coach bus for a week, we were back to two little ones for this ride. We appeared to put 12 people in one, and 6 of us rode in the other. Which was nice for the six of us, since we weren't packed in like sardines. The bus drivers were about normal, which means they managed to drive in reverse on city streets for some reason. This is normal, really. I think we drove in reverse almost every day of our trip. Except yesterday. You remember yesterday? We took 2 hours to drive 2500 feet to the beach? There was no need to go backwards there. The entire dumb trip felt backwards yesterday.
But, we got to the airport safe and sound. The importance of this is that Kathy (faculty chaperon) only had two blank incident reports. In case we needed them. Happy to say that we never needed them. I'm sure she is more happy to say the same. One more batch of airport great news is that no one had overweight bags they had to pay for. A few people had to shuffle things. Actually, no. I think only Ahmed had to shuffle things. That was because he went in the Business Class line for Iberia and annoyed the lady. So when his bag was a few kilograms over, she made him change things around. When we saw her again at our gate to get on the plane, I suggested he not talk to his new friend, for fear she would subject him to who knows what.
An easy flight from Casablanca to Madrid. Less than 2 hours, and most of the crew tried to sneak a cat nap in, because of all our big plans in Madrid for the afternoon and night (we landed in Madrid at 2:30pm).
We made it through everything imaginable at the airport--passport control, customs, etc.-- in just a few minutes and our little bus driver dude was waiting at the exit with an IPFW sign for us. Straight out of a movie, or something. Pepe (Rodrigo) was there to speak his broken Spanglish with him, but turns out, he didn't need to hear anything from us. He waved us to the bus. Loaded us on, all the while pitching our fragile collectibles and bags into every conceivable empty space, and took us to the Crowne Plaza.
In just 30 minutes, we would be boarding the bus and headed into Madrid's city center. Only that didn't happen. Because the little bus driver dude took off the moment he threw us and our bags at the hotel.
You know what happened next? To be honest, I am tired, so I am going to finish this story tomorrow. Really. I hope you all are enjoying St. Patrick's Day. I did.
Have I waxed poetic enough? I thought so. I'll just get back to the heart of the matter. Like Don Henley.
I was not ready to leave. But we did. Early. I think Kyle was up at like 6:30am. I managed to sleep until 7am, and we both made it to breakfast, grabbed our bags, and made the bus by 8am.
After having a great coach bus for a week, we were back to two little ones for this ride. We appeared to put 12 people in one, and 6 of us rode in the other. Which was nice for the six of us, since we weren't packed in like sardines. The bus drivers were about normal, which means they managed to drive in reverse on city streets for some reason. This is normal, really. I think we drove in reverse almost every day of our trip. Except yesterday. You remember yesterday? We took 2 hours to drive 2500 feet to the beach? There was no need to go backwards there. The entire dumb trip felt backwards yesterday.
But, we got to the airport safe and sound. The importance of this is that Kathy (faculty chaperon) only had two blank incident reports. In case we needed them. Happy to say that we never needed them. I'm sure she is more happy to say the same. One more batch of airport great news is that no one had overweight bags they had to pay for. A few people had to shuffle things. Actually, no. I think only Ahmed had to shuffle things. That was because he went in the Business Class line for Iberia and annoyed the lady. So when his bag was a few kilograms over, she made him change things around. When we saw her again at our gate to get on the plane, I suggested he not talk to his new friend, for fear she would subject him to who knows what.
An easy flight from Casablanca to Madrid. Less than 2 hours, and most of the crew tried to sneak a cat nap in, because of all our big plans in Madrid for the afternoon and night (we landed in Madrid at 2:30pm).
We made it through everything imaginable at the airport--passport control, customs, etc.-- in just a few minutes and our little bus driver dude was waiting at the exit with an IPFW sign for us. Straight out of a movie, or something. Pepe (Rodrigo) was there to speak his broken Spanglish with him, but turns out, he didn't need to hear anything from us. He waved us to the bus. Loaded us on, all the while pitching our fragile collectibles and bags into every conceivable empty space, and took us to the Crowne Plaza.
In just 30 minutes, we would be boarding the bus and headed into Madrid's city center. Only that didn't happen. Because the little bus driver dude took off the moment he threw us and our bags at the hotel.
You know what happened next? To be honest, I am tired, so I am going to finish this story tomorrow. Really. I hope you all are enjoying St. Patrick's Day. I did.
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