Sunday, September 20, 2009

Day 30

This day.

At morning time Roeland and I had to part. He was flying back to Belgium and I to Rome. As we were waiting for my bus Roeland gave me his sweater which I took to wearing In Belgium, since It was chiller there than what I was prepared for. I find that open ended good-byes are difficult, not knowing when, or if you will see a person next is not an easy thing to deal with. I said ciao through tears and did the whole watch him get smaller as the bus drove further away. I know sad. (Roeland's Passport:)

Once I got to Girona airport, I stepped in line to deal with the ticket business. You see, Roeland and I missed our flight the previous day in order to run around Barcelona a plus day. We rented a go cart type vehicle, explored the Guelle Park, then did the beach at night where a few odd fellows tried to sell us drugs. U-turning back to the point; Roeland purchased another ticket so there would be no problem when flight was needed. I on the other hand said, "Phhhf please, buy another ticket? I don't think so. I'll talk my way on with this ticket." (The ticket from the previous day)

When it was time to plead my cause I told Ms. Flight Agent that I had to miss my flight the previous day. That it just could not be helped and was there any way that I could get onto that day's flight. She said yes, for 250 Euro. At which point I had a slight melt down that went like this:

Me: "250 Euros! How is that possible?" (RyanAire flights are cheapppp.)

Ms. Flight Agent: "I'm sorry but it's a last moment flight. If you want to fly today that is how much you will have to pay." (Spanish accent)

Me: "Is there anyway we can use this ticket as a credit and I can pay the rest?"

Ms. Flight Agent: "I'm sorry..."

Me: "Seriously there are empty seats on these flights all the time! You're telling me I have to pay 250 Euro for an empty seat?"

Ms. Flight Agent: "These are the rules. I'm sorry...If you wanted to fly tomorrow you would only have to pay 80 Euro."

Me: "I have no where to go!" (code red desperation)

Ms. Flight Agent: "There's a hotel up the street. They have internet there. You can go there and print your ticket because it will cost you another 40 Euro if you do it here."

I stared at her for some time to be sure she was not kidding. Nothing.

Me: "Kay, I guess that's what I'll do. Thanks."

When I arrived at the shoddy airport hotel there were no vacancies, so I decided that returning to the airport was the most logical plan. As I walked in the 100 something degree weather, carrying and pulling my luggage, I became heated. When I got back to the airport I waited to speak specifically with my Ms. Flight Agent. Others passed me as I waited. When it was my turn to flail my arms I told her, "I went to the hotel down the road -- there are no vacancies. What am I to do now?" She patiently told me all of the same things, then added that there was another hotel further down the road. I thought, Fine! Fine! Fine!

Further down the road? What road? It was a highway! But what other choice did I have? I walked In the bloody sun in my leather boots down or up a highway, dragging bags along, as truckers honked their horns at me. When the airport became a bitsy dot and there was no hotel in sight, it was time to say aloud, "What the fuck am I doing!" Before I turned back.

At the third airport arrival I figured it best to eat something at the cafe before losing it any further. After lunch, I took to wandering about the airport until I saw a Hertz car rental. I mean, really saw it, I had priorly passed it without any balloon piercing notions. That was it, I would rent a car and that would save me. As elementary as that may sound that was all my head could produce at the moment. Car mean freedom from airport torture -- That's a more precise retelling of the epiphany.

After speaking to a lovely Spanish car rental woman and signing here, there, then there, I had the keys to a silver Smart car. I nearly cried. When I got to it, I had the most terrible time getting my bag into the back. I couldn't figure out how to open the trunk? But once everything was in, including myself, I put on the radio, and what came out was Katy Perry's, "Hot 'n Cold." I perceived this as a merry omen and blasted it as I sped out of that effing parking lot with no idea as to where I was going.

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