Adventures in Aviation (or lack of aviation!)

I began this trip sure of my route to Granada.  I was supposed to land in London Heathrow, then take a flight to Madrid and connect to Granada.

The flight across the Atlantic was great.  Fortuately, the grumpy couple beside me had complained and were upgraded to another class leaving me with 3 seats in which to spread out and sleep.  It was when we were over Bristol, England that we noticed the first interesting flight pattern...the pilot began to go in circles.  Finally, after about 15 minutes of this, he announced that London Heathrow was closed, and that no flights were going in or out.  So we turned around and went back 45 minutes to land in Cardiff, Wales.

From here, I claimed my luggage, legally entered the UK, and boarded a double-decker bus to London.  For 3 hours, I rode through the hills and farms of Wales and England...in a blizzard.  We arrived in England, collected our luggage from under the bus, and entered Terminal 5 at London Heathrow airport.  The lines were enormous.  I had no idea where I should go, so I hopped in a line labeled "Assistance" for British Airways.

After 45 minutes in this line, I was told to go to another line to obtain a hotel voucher.

After 1 hour in this line, I was told that I needed to rebook in order to get a hotel voucher.  Fortunately, I had my wonderful Mac by my side, and I was able to purchase internet, get in touch with Dad, and rebook with British Airways (thanks for all the help, papa!).  My flight was to leave at 1:10pm the next day.  So, I got back in the hotel voucher line, showed them my boarding information, and received a voucher and directions to a hotel in Central London.

I bought a ticket for the underground to the West Brompton station, pulled my luggage onto the train, and took off.

After about 1 hour, the train stopped at Earl's Court station where I was to wait for a train to West Brompton station.  Now, if any of you know the British underground...these two stations are only 1 stop apart.  But, of course, my ticket had me going to West Brompton, and so I waited for 1 hour in 2 degree weather for the next train.  Meanwhile, I met an Indian man who hardly spoke any English and was also on the way to the hotel.  He got cold and wrapped sweat pants around his head...this made me laugh.  I helped him read english, and he was quite appreciative.

Finally, the train came and we arrived at West Brompton station.  The Ibis hotel is about 4 blocks away, but of course there were about 5 inches of snow on the side walks.  I was wearing crocs (the only time I have EVER regretted wearing crocs), and was trying to drag my suit case through the snow.  This was a sorely unsuccessful process that took me much longer that I had hoped.

I arrived at the hotel, sopping wet and freezing, was booked on the 9th floor, was too late to get a real meal, ate a baked potato, video chatted with mom and dad, and went to sleep.

The next morning, I took the underground back to London Heathrow only to be told that my flight to Madrid had been cancelled.  So, I went to a counter where they kindly rebooked me on a flight leaving from Gatwick airport.  I checked my luggage, and proceeded to the bus station for a ticket to Gatwick.  Somehow in this process, I lost my brand new jacket.  Then I tried to find it, which was a very bad idea.  I never found it.

Once I was on the bus to Gatwick airport, I was hopeful that I would make it to my flight on time....then the bus stopped for 30 minutes because of ice.  I arrived at the airport with about 15 minutes to spare, and ran through a mile of airport to my gate.

The flight arrived in Geneva, Switerland 2 hours later.  Geneva was about 6 degrees, and the mountains were stunning.  Once there, I had to find my next gate.  I accidentally went through customs (so I now have legally been to Switzerland) and then right back through customs, then security (the whole time speaking French) and eventually found my gate.

My boarding cards from England weren't recognized, so I had to work that out.  Once that was finished, I boarded the plane and arrived safely in Madrid.

Madrid's airport is huge, and I had 15 minutes to make an 18 minute trip to the next terminal, including a train ride.  I ran the whole way and arrived with 1 minute to spare.

When I arrived in Granada, my luggage had not arrived....but I was thrilled to finally be in my city.  I filed a luggage claim, cried a bit, called my parents, called my host mother, got a taxi, and drove to my apartment. 

Eloisa opened the door with a welcome hug and kiss on each cheek.  Finally, I have arrived.