Okay, so the flights from Vegas to Barcelona were great but not everything was a cake walk. Let’s start with the airport, so I got lost in the London airport, twice. I asked a security guard where to go and he pointed me in the wrong direction with 13 minutes til the gate closed. After following his directions and getting lost, I asked an person at random and to be expected they were wrong. Five minutes til the gate closes, I find out that I’m on the opposite side of the airport. So I hauled ass running through the airport with my computer in hand. I make it to the gate with no minutes to spare but they had a line so me being late fortunately okay.
The flight to Barcelona was only three hours long but felt like five minutes, because I kept nodding off. Since I’ve never been out of the country before my thoughts on how my passport was going to be stamped was simple. I get off the plane, walk down the terminals and out into the passport stamp office. Boy, was I stupid! They let us off the plane where buses waited for us, they drove use to a side door and let us out. I’m walking mindlessly behind strangers who start to whisper the word immigration a lot. I thought there were joking and I decided to see for myself. So I peep around the group of people in front of me and see five guys behind windows waving for people to come up. To me, I didn’t see them as immigration but admissions officials who were letting you in to a cool ride. It took all of seven minutes so no complaints on that.
Once on the other side, I kept following other people like a lost puppy. I grab my checked bag and head for the exit but with all the excitement I forgot to check my phone. Yup you guessed it, I have no service. Which means I have no internet for maps, so I got lost as soon as I left the airport. Not knowing what to do, I went back to the airport to bum WiFi and FaceTime my grandma. I don’t think she’s ever done FaceTime before because her camera was pointed at her ear, she tried though.
With my grandma on my phone issue, I was able to ask this sweet old man where the train station was. He didn’t speak English but he used his hands when he spoke so I was able to get him and get to where I needed to be.
Long story short: I hate the process of traveling but I loved where it took me.