Spain: Back Home
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
It might not seem possible, but the trip from Spain back to the states was about as horrible as the trip from the states to Spain. I was leaving a day earlier than Robin but we were both scheduled to land in Boston at the same time. Figure that one out.
Robin went with me to the airport. We make our way to the British Airway counter for my flight to Manchester only to find out they canceled my reservation. Since I ended up getting a direct US Air flight to Madrid (as a result of my US-to-Manchester flight being cancelled) and missing my Manchester-to-Madrid British Airway flight, they assumed I booked a round-trip ticket just to take advantage of the fact that it’s cheaper than getting a one-way ticket. And that’s against company policy.
I spent a good ten minutes repeatedly going over my story – about how my plane was cancelled and they put me on a direct flight and yada-yada-yada. British Airways finally decided to reinstate my ticket; I breathed a sigh of relief, kissed Robin goodbye, and made my way to my plane.
I get to Manchester and make preparations for what will become my 10-hour stopover. I purchase some food, a new book (Catch-22), a couple of magazines. I make my way to a bench in the 24-hour section of the airport and just start reading. With about 5-hours to go before my flight I decide to take a nap, tie my duffle bag to my arm and use it as a pillow, fasten my book bag to my legs and tuck it into my crotch – I catch about five hours of sleep on an airport bench.
It was a very, very, very uncomfortable sleep.
I sleep most of the way home, land in Philly. I have one more flight to Boston which is, of course, delayed. A couple of hours later I’m in Boston – hanging out with Robin and her family.
The next day we pack the U-Haul truck. Our new apartment back in DC, which Robin hasn’t seen at this point, is already pretty crowded – I had no idea how we planned on fitting a second moving truck filled with shit in it.
We’re about to get on the road – Robin’s father pulls me aside and tells me that if I mistreat his daughter he’ll kill me. That was fun.
We begin the seven hour drive – stop off in Connecticut to visit my Uncle Chris and Aunt Jacinda – they just had a baby, Jack, and it was our first time seeing him. I didn’t tell Robin that my entire loud-ass Puerto Rican family was there – she was a little pissed that I surprised her with that one, mainly because she wanted to be there for a half-hour and then get back on the road.
Instead we were there for about two hours.
We get back on the highway and have a smooth trip into DC. I drove the truck from Jersey on. I only had my permit at the time (I didn’t get my license until I was 25) and this was my first time driving on the highway although I told Robin I’ve done it a “bunch of times”. I’m a dick; I think we’ve established that already.
By the time we get to the apartment it’s too late to unpack the truck. We go straight upstairs and Robin sees the place for the first time. I put up these “Welcome Home” signs and what not; she seemed to have liked that. There were also dead roaches in the sink; she didn’t like that at all. Overtime we’ll both begin to hate the apartment, but Robin can always claim she hated it the moment she saw it.
The next day we unloaded the truck and started unpacking boxes – ready to get this whole “new life together” thing started. We even bought a mattress – for the past year and a half I had nothing but the futon. New life, new mattress – we took the U-Haul truck to Costco and picked one up. We also picked up a variety of roach killing products, none of which made a difference over the six months we lived in that place.
After unpacking everything Robin decided she wanted to walk around and see the neighborhood. She quickly realized I moved us into the ghetto. About seven blocks north was the Mall, the Air and Space Museum, to be exact. That was cool – Smithsonian trips and classes were a quick walk away. But a block south was government subsidized housing, a ghetto strip mall, and this weird ice-cream truck that only came around late at night, no markings on it, and now kids going up to it.
Luckily we only ended up spending another five months there.
Robin went with me to the airport. We make our way to the British Airway counter for my flight to Manchester only to find out they canceled my reservation. Since I ended up getting a direct US Air flight to Madrid (as a result of my US-to-Manchester flight being cancelled) and missing my Manchester-to-Madrid British Airway flight, they assumed I booked a round-trip ticket just to take advantage of the fact that it’s cheaper than getting a one-way ticket. And that’s against company policy.
I spent a good ten minutes repeatedly going over my story – about how my plane was cancelled and they put me on a direct flight and yada-yada-yada. British Airways finally decided to reinstate my ticket; I breathed a sigh of relief, kissed Robin goodbye, and made my way to my plane.
I get to Manchester and make preparations for what will become my 10-hour stopover. I purchase some food, a new book (Catch-22), a couple of magazines. I make my way to a bench in the 24-hour section of the airport and just start reading. With about 5-hours to go before my flight I decide to take a nap, tie my duffle bag to my arm and use it as a pillow, fasten my book bag to my legs and tuck it into my crotch – I catch about five hours of sleep on an airport bench.
It was a very, very, very uncomfortable sleep.
I sleep most of the way home, land in Philly. I have one more flight to Boston which is, of course, delayed. A couple of hours later I’m in Boston – hanging out with Robin and her family.
The next day we pack the U-Haul truck. Our new apartment back in DC, which Robin hasn’t seen at this point, is already pretty crowded – I had no idea how we planned on fitting a second moving truck filled with shit in it.
We’re about to get on the road – Robin’s father pulls me aside and tells me that if I mistreat his daughter he’ll kill me. That was fun.
We begin the seven hour drive – stop off in Connecticut to visit my Uncle Chris and Aunt Jacinda – they just had a baby, Jack, and it was our first time seeing him. I didn’t tell Robin that my entire loud-ass Puerto Rican family was there – she was a little pissed that I surprised her with that one, mainly because she wanted to be there for a half-hour and then get back on the road.
Instead we were there for about two hours.
We get back on the highway and have a smooth trip into DC. I drove the truck from Jersey on. I only had my permit at the time (I didn’t get my license until I was 25) and this was my first time driving on the highway although I told Robin I’ve done it a “bunch of times”. I’m a dick; I think we’ve established that already.
By the time we get to the apartment it’s too late to unpack the truck. We go straight upstairs and Robin sees the place for the first time. I put up these “Welcome Home” signs and what not; she seemed to have liked that. There were also dead roaches in the sink; she didn’t like that at all. Overtime we’ll both begin to hate the apartment, but Robin can always claim she hated it the moment she saw it.
The next day we unloaded the truck and started unpacking boxes – ready to get this whole “new life together” thing started. We even bought a mattress – for the past year and a half I had nothing but the futon. New life, new mattress – we took the U-Haul truck to Costco and picked one up. We also picked up a variety of roach killing products, none of which made a difference over the six months we lived in that place.
After unpacking everything Robin decided she wanted to walk around and see the neighborhood. She quickly realized I moved us into the ghetto. About seven blocks north was the Mall, the Air and Space Museum, to be exact. That was cool – Smithsonian trips and classes were a quick walk away. But a block south was government subsidized housing, a ghetto strip mall, and this weird ice-cream truck that only came around late at night, no markings on it, and now kids going up to it.
Luckily we only ended up spending another five months there.
Labels: travel
posted by Jason at
9:37 AM
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