Alright, I don't know why I didn't post this entry while I was posting the rest of my pictures from Spain, but I'll finally post it now.
My trip to Spain ended with a bit more excitement than I would have preferred...I was supposed to fly back from Bilbao to Madrid, and Madrid to Munich on Sunday, May 9. That morning, Emily and I went pretty much straight to the airport...my flight out of Bilbao wasn't until 1:30ish, but it took an hour or so to get to the airport from Emily's room and I was supposed to be there a couple hours early. But that's beside the point. We got to the Bilbao airport without any problems, said goodbye, and I got through security, to my gate, and on the plane without any problems. The flight from Bilbao to Madrid even had no problems.
The problems started in Madrid. I had about an hour and a half between when I landed in Madrid and when I should have boarded my plane to Munich, but when I got to Madrid, my next gate wasn't announced yet. I walked around a bit, got a snack, and finally found my gate once it was announced. It seemed a bit oddly empty, but I didn't think too much of it until a group of German business people came over and sat down near me...and suddenly I heard the words "Vulkan" (not to be confused with Vulcan) and "der Flughafen ist geschlossen". Meaning: something to do with the volcano and that the airport was closed. NOT GOOD. This was two weeks after the volcano up in Iceland had caused seemingly most European airports to shut down, so I was hoping that I was safe. No such luck. Southern German airports were closed due to ash clouds and poor visibility, which of course included Munich. All flights were canceled. Again, not good! After panicking for a bit, standing in line for more than a bit, and visiting about four different help desks, I got a stand-by seat on the first flight to Munich on Monday morning and a hotel room for the night. Still not very reassuring, since even if the flight was able to take off, I wasn't guaranteed a seat. At my fourth information desk, I think I looked so pitiful and close to tears that the woman had pity on me and gave me a seat on the flight. After that I pretty much gave up and decided to just go to the hotel.
Which turned out to be a fabulous idea, since the hotel turned out to be one of the nicest place I stayed the whole four months I was in Europe. All expenses paid by the airline, including transportation between the airport and hotel, dinner at the hotel, the room itself, breakfast the next morning, and transportation back to the airport Monday morning. So yeah, great hotel room:
The bed was literally wider than I am tall:
The bathroom was no joke either:
I even got my own balcony :)
This was all I got to see of Madrid, but it was 8pm by the time I got to the hotel, so I figured I shouldn't wander into the city on my own...
So, I had a great night in a great hotel...and you'd think that would be the end of the problems, right? Not quite. I set my alarm for 6:00am (actually, I set it for 5:50, 6:00, 6:10, 6:20, and 6:30 since my cell phone had 5 alarms). My new flight Monday morning was at 8:30, so I needed to be at the airport by 7:30, leaving the hotel by 7:00. Free breakfast started at 6:30, so I wanted to give myself time to pack up, check email on the hotel computer, get breakfast, and leave the hotel by 6:50 (thinking I should leave a little early, just in case). But did I wake up at 6? No! I slept through all FIVE of my alarms and woke up at 6:48. I literally threw on the first clothes I found, threw everything else in my bag, and ran downstairs. Luckily, the group of German business people who were on my original flight were also in the hotel and had already called for the hotel van to get to the airport, so I was able to ride with them and make it to the airport on time. They even complimented me on my German when I talked a bit with them.
Again, you'd think that would be the end of the problems, right? Again, NO! Once at the airport, we boarded the plane relatively on time, and then proceeded to sit there for about 40 minutes. And then came my favorite announcement in the world: something on the plane wasn't functioning correctly, so we had to de-board the plane, go to the opposite end of the terminal, and re-board an entirely new plane. Needless to say, it took awhile for a new plane to be ready, so we stood around waiting quite a while:
Meanwhile, I got to know the airport terminal pretty well:
Finally, two hours later, we finally, FINALLY took off and made it back to Munich by mid-afternoon. So, yeah. That was my trip from Bilbao back to Munich. Not my favorite 24 hours of my time in Germany, but definitely adventurous!
