Worst travel experience, ever.
Los Angeles is amazing, let me tell you.
I am glad to be back home after a traumatic travel experience that will have me avoiding the South as well as a plane operated by any people from the Iberian peninsula, thank you very much. I traveled alone, too, just to spice things up. This is more for records purposes, but please, enjoy my bitching about the travel. But, do you really have anything better to do? Come on...
I left Barcelona at 9:20AM on August 25 and it turns out I had to stop in Madrid before going on to Miami. Okay, not too bad, so far. Lady tried to shortchange me at the restaurant (second time in Spain; watch out kiddos!) and I had the most horrific/very delicious ham sandwich in a baguette which looked like it was just cut off the pig. Generally not a fan, but I was hungry. The baguette was good.
Anyways, Madrid to Miami. Holy crap. First of all, I was on a plane that was old and there were about 200+ people on it, not to mention Europeans. Europeans are lots of fun; not on planes. Woe being me, I was in the back, perfectly situated where all the restrooms are. Unlike in the US where lots of people cannot congregate anywhere, there were about 20 people congregating in the back annoying the hell out of me. I was in the aisle, so I bore the brunt of it. Bad times. Also, couldn't see the movie because obnoxious guy was flirting with the Portuguese girls in front of me, so he was blocking the one projected screen 10 rows in front of me. Ass. I met a nice Nicaraguan lady who sat next to me on the plane; I spoke Spanish; it was nice.
What else? Oh yeah!! There was a hurricane in Miami!! So, I was pretty lucky to land alive in Miami, although it was one scary ass landing, making it the third international plane ride in which I thought I was going to die (the other two: Israel, with a plane from 1957, and China, with nice plane dropping 100s of meters in an instant action). That was cute. Oh, and my flight to Dallas, which would then follow my flight to Los Angeles, was cancelled, as were all flights. But, at least they were able to fly us into that Godforsaken state. I still don't understand why people would want to live in a hurricane infested (best word I could think of) state, such as so, where their houses get raped sporadically. I also partially blame them for the last two elections. And the humidity, oy vey.
So, I have to go to the hotel. Iberia (the airline I was flying on) payed for it all, including two meals. I was actually looking forward to it. Just relaxing and watching TV, something I havent done for a month, or so. HELL NO! Power goes out. Yeah, so all hopes of a decent night were gone. I ate with more Nicaraguan people (I couldn't understand this girls accent for the life of me, and it was just her; her friend spoke coherently, thankfully and rephrased everything for me; she just thought I was retarded). That night, I watched the crazy ass hurricane, which turned out to be only a level one but was freaking crazy. I guess I shouldn't have stood by the window considering shit was flying, but I soon figured that out and went to bed. Oh, and getting up to urinate in the dark was fun. I'm sure you wanted to know.
Next day, call the parentals. They charge me $14 for something they said was going to be $0.95. Rat bastards. Oh well, everything else was free. Oh, and then I go to the airport for my flight to San Francisco and then LA (that is three connections in total; four flights for a plane ride that could have been direct). Apparently, I was not the only person who flies out of Miami, or something like that, so there were a shitload of people waiting too. I was in line for 3 and a half hours (210 minutes) all alone. Finally got through and plane was delayed 2 hours, causing me to miss my connection and have to take a later one. Was not given food (cheap American Airline bastards) but I drank to little cartons of milk for sustenance (my food for that day consisted of 5 mini boxes of Special K cereal for breakfast at the hotel, one Venti Frappuccino, three cartons of milk, almost the entirety of a chocolate Powerbar, minus some of it that got stuck to the wraper due to humidity), milk they first said didn't exist. So, I just asked someone else and they had it. Oh, tricky bastards.
To sum it all up, there were lots of Asians in San Francisco airport, most likely reflective of the city, as well, making it possible place of residence in the future. And, the final kicker: my luggage was lost. That's right folks. But other people who flew out from Miami like me had the same problem, so I'm just hoping that it just couldn't make the connection from SF to LA soon enough and it will be here today, and will be delivered.
That is my story kids. Enjoy.
I am back home. Come, delight me with your presence, preferably earlier. I can't do nights. My sleeping schedule is fucked up as it is. Call me. Will answer cell phone.
I am glad to be back home after a traumatic travel experience that will have me avoiding the South as well as a plane operated by any people from the Iberian peninsula, thank you very much. I traveled alone, too, just to spice things up. This is more for records purposes, but please, enjoy my bitching about the travel. But, do you really have anything better to do? Come on...
I left Barcelona at 9:20AM on August 25 and it turns out I had to stop in Madrid before going on to Miami. Okay, not too bad, so far. Lady tried to shortchange me at the restaurant (second time in Spain; watch out kiddos!) and I had the most horrific/very delicious ham sandwich in a baguette which looked like it was just cut off the pig. Generally not a fan, but I was hungry. The baguette was good.
Anyways, Madrid to Miami. Holy crap. First of all, I was on a plane that was old and there were about 200+ people on it, not to mention Europeans. Europeans are lots of fun; not on planes. Woe being me, I was in the back, perfectly situated where all the restrooms are. Unlike in the US where lots of people cannot congregate anywhere, there were about 20 people congregating in the back annoying the hell out of me. I was in the aisle, so I bore the brunt of it. Bad times. Also, couldn't see the movie because obnoxious guy was flirting with the Portuguese girls in front of me, so he was blocking the one projected screen 10 rows in front of me. Ass. I met a nice Nicaraguan lady who sat next to me on the plane; I spoke Spanish; it was nice.
What else? Oh yeah!! There was a hurricane in Miami!! So, I was pretty lucky to land alive in Miami, although it was one scary ass landing, making it the third international plane ride in which I thought I was going to die (the other two: Israel, with a plane from 1957, and China, with nice plane dropping 100s of meters in an instant action). That was cute. Oh, and my flight to Dallas, which would then follow my flight to Los Angeles, was cancelled, as were all flights. But, at least they were able to fly us into that Godforsaken state. I still don't understand why people would want to live in a hurricane infested (best word I could think of) state, such as so, where their houses get raped sporadically. I also partially blame them for the last two elections. And the humidity, oy vey.
So, I have to go to the hotel. Iberia (the airline I was flying on) payed for it all, including two meals. I was actually looking forward to it. Just relaxing and watching TV, something I havent done for a month, or so. HELL NO! Power goes out. Yeah, so all hopes of a decent night were gone. I ate with more Nicaraguan people (I couldn't understand this girls accent for the life of me, and it was just her; her friend spoke coherently, thankfully and rephrased everything for me; she just thought I was retarded). That night, I watched the crazy ass hurricane, which turned out to be only a level one but was freaking crazy. I guess I shouldn't have stood by the window considering shit was flying, but I soon figured that out and went to bed. Oh, and getting up to urinate in the dark was fun. I'm sure you wanted to know.
Next day, call the parentals. They charge me $14 for something they said was going to be $0.95. Rat bastards. Oh well, everything else was free. Oh, and then I go to the airport for my flight to San Francisco and then LA (that is three connections in total; four flights for a plane ride that could have been direct). Apparently, I was not the only person who flies out of Miami, or something like that, so there were a shitload of people waiting too. I was in line for 3 and a half hours (210 minutes) all alone. Finally got through and plane was delayed 2 hours, causing me to miss my connection and have to take a later one. Was not given food (cheap American Airline bastards) but I drank to little cartons of milk for sustenance (my food for that day consisted of 5 mini boxes of Special K cereal for breakfast at the hotel, one Venti Frappuccino, three cartons of milk, almost the entirety of a chocolate Powerbar, minus some of it that got stuck to the wraper due to humidity), milk they first said didn't exist. So, I just asked someone else and they had it. Oh, tricky bastards.
To sum it all up, there were lots of Asians in San Francisco airport, most likely reflective of the city, as well, making it possible place of residence in the future. And, the final kicker: my luggage was lost. That's right folks. But other people who flew out from Miami like me had the same problem, so I'm just hoping that it just couldn't make the connection from SF to LA soon enough and it will be here today, and will be delivered.
That is my story kids. Enjoy.
I am back home. Come, delight me with your presence, preferably earlier. I can't do nights. My sleeping schedule is fucked up as it is. Call me. Will answer cell phone.