Day 3
Exhilarated upon arriving in Madrid, the culmination of 7.2 months of planning has finally arrived! Despite Spain not being an economic juggernaut the Madrid airport is impressive. Very spacious, to the point of needing an Uber golf cart to transport patrons from our terminal to Spanish Customs.
Despite several videos showing antidotes to long haul flights I had not followed a single piece of advice. I wasn’t hydrating myself, I consumed alcohol and I was yapping when I should have been clinging to the infant-sized blanket and pillow that was provided while I slept on my dear wife’s shoulder.
The original plan was to dip into Carol’s impressive array of medications and pass the evening, night, and morning in a blissful dream state. But the best laid plans blah, blah, blah never reached fruition as by the time that Indiana Jones and I had pulled the plug on our conversation Carol was curled up against the window dreaming about grandchildren and that company pension that I never got because I’m a moron. Just the usual stuff.
Because Carol has a terrible time falling asleep I had to control myself from leaning into her ear and asking which of the 45 pockets in our four carry-on items I would find the pharmaceutical solution to my problem. So I did the manly thing and didn’t bother looking at all.
Despite the Boeing 777 being one of the largest passenger aircraft in the world it has microscopic legroom, and this from someone who can walk under a STOP sign without ruffling his toque.
Our two wheelie bags were in the overhead bin which would mean waking the ten people sleeping around me as I yanked them free and then opened them up in the aisleway without a clue of what I was looking for. The seven-pocketed knapsack was pushed way under the seat in front of me and probably didn’t have the secret sauce anyways. Then there was Carol’s purse, the three-headed monster that every woman carries which has enough useful items packed neatly inside to sustain life on Mars. Forty-five years we’ve been together (10 of the best years of my life as Carol loves to hear me say) and not once, seriously not once, have I been able to locate any item that Carol has sent me in to get. I Would claim that as a record but I know someone who has been together forty-six years.
So squirming and tossing for almost 6 hours was my destiny. Near the end of the ordeal my legs were cramping uncontrollably and I reached down into the darkness and tried to massage some life back into them. What! Nothing! I could feel the flesh but no nerve endings were being stimulated! Mentally I was screaming ” My legs, my legs! I have no feeling in my legs”! Then I felt the smooth 3D plastic of my neighbour’s ankle gun and knew I was reaching too far to the left.
I decided it was better to have them numb than to endure the cramping and I finally dozed off, just as the pilot came on the intercom to announce that we should prepare for landing. Crap! Couldn’t we circle the block a few times so I could finally get some rest?
Spanish Custom agents must have been plucked from the Happy Place pool because unlike the snarling reception we receive when landing in the US or the haughty tone of French agents our guy was smiling and polite and thanked us for choosing Spain as our destination and gleefully stamped our passports. I half expected a gift basket and I’m sure as we walked away I could hear him whistling that tune from Snow White and the seven dwarfs (although now they can’t be called dwarfs, it’s vertically-challenged bearded perverts).
Ever notice how many disturbing characters there are in Walt Disney kid’s movies. Witches and trolls and evil of every description. You might as well watch a Wes Craven flick and feel less creepy at the end of it. If old Walt was still alive he would be on a predatory offender watch list.
So Customs was cleared and the way was paved to find our first Airbnb. While on our first trip overseas a mere 2 years ago this would have induced increased heart rate, sweaty areas all over the body, and snapping, threatening, exchanges between Carol and I. This time was much better as I had on industrial-strength deodorant to handle the sweating, but the other two symptoms were still in full bloom.
We had explicit directions that were double-checked and confirmed months in advance. We had paper instructions, we had email instructions on both phones and both tablets, we instructions on the cloud, and on the Airbnb site. We had redundant redundancy.
Guess what! It paid off and we survived our first foray into the world of the Madrid metro system. After climbing topside it was a mere 100 meters to our first host’s door. That never happens to us! Yes, we win!!
The late-50s couple, Dore and Hugo were prepared for our arrival and greeted us with great aplomb. Dore was smiling and gesturing and insisted on taking control of our luggage and showing us our new crib. Good-sized bedroom, a sitting room for our use, access to the kitchen which included the laundry ( typical European setup) and of course the bathroom which would be shared with another couple staying in an adjacent bedroom. Good score for Carol and Dennis!
There were a couple of quirky items like the opening navel to ceiling window that looked like it backed onto the kitchen at the back of the shower. Handy on those rushed mornings when you might want to shampoo and eat a ham sandwich at the same time. The Spanish love their ham after all. Then there was the world’s largest bedroom fan that looked like it could be used as a dryer in a car wash. More on that in subsequent posts.
Anyways, I was severely jet-lagged and longed for some rest but Carol was strapping on her walking shoes and thrusting the money belt in my direction so we would be hitting the bricks and see what Madrid had to offer. Crap I was tired.
Blue Delivery 