Delayed in Barcelona

After another few meetings it was mission accomplished and we set off to the airport.

We thought we’d arrived too early but it seemed we needed every minute to get through the line of shame, Other Passports where everyone else with third world passports appeared to be queuing to get through passport control.

Eventually we made it through (our Italian colleague having had a three course meal on the other side during the wait) to discover an inevitable delay. Travel these days is not fun or glamorous and involves a lot of hanging around complaining.

Eventually (an hour or so later) we were allowed to board, to return to the Island of Discontent where apparently today everyone was on strike and tomorrow everyone else is.

As I boarded the plane, the icing on the cake, I was told my seat had changed. I don’t like sitting past row 15 for speedy exit reasons and so row 33 really wasn’t going to cut it after three days of meetings, late nights and delays. Apparently the plane wasn’t full so the weight was being redistributed.

I decided that my 125lbs wasn’t going to make a huge difference to the balance of the aircraft and so I rebelled and sat in my original seat and hoped we didn’t fly tilted on one side. I kept my head down in case anyone asked.

And so that’s Spain done. Easier than last time but still exhausting. Lessons can be learned about how Spanish time is not the same as English time (add two or three hours) and will we ever find a nice hotel in Barcelona?! I was only in my room for six hours though so perhaps not essential.

Next week it’s Germany followed by a day trip to Rugby as the 2023 Dog and Pony European Tour continues.

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