SPANISH INTERLUDE AND ONWARDS

It's been a while since I attended to this blog, but we've been a bit busy experiencing stuff to put in it.

Going back to one week ago. Friday and Fritha, Anthony and I set off to Madrid to meet up with Barbara. We had some worries about volcano ash and about a threatened strike by BA employees but fortunately they came to nothing. The flight into Madrid took an hour and fifty minutes and was uneventful. Having passed through immigration, Anthony said "Instead of getting a taxi, why don't we have ourselves a little adventure, a use the Metro."

We agreed and we bought tickets on a machine before descending to the underground station. We studied the map and found we needed to make two changes. These were straight forward enough until we boarded a very crowded train. We were squashed in and Anthony suddenly said he thought his wallet had gone. As he spoke, we saw a rather shifty little guy by the door, suddenly step off the train just as the doors were closing. Our worst fears were realised. Not only was Anthony's wallet and credit cards gone, but worst of all, so was his passport.We emerged into the sunlight from the Metro to find ourselves a few meters from the Hotel Nacional

where we were staying. It was located on a wide tree lined avenue called Paseo del Prada, and looked out over beautiful botanical gardens just across the road.

But for now, once we'd checked in, our first priority was to report Anthony's loss and see what could be done. He spoke to the police by phone and they immediately put an English speaking officer on the line. He took a statement and asked Anthony to visit a nearby police station to sign it off. Then Anthony spoke to the Australian Embassy and they took his details. It being the end of the week they could only offer a replacement passport on the next Monday. That meant Anthony would have to stay an extra day. Fortunately he had another wallet with other cards in it, so he decided on a "kismet" approach and we set off to enjoy our time in Madrid.

We went out and a few hundred meters up the crowded street, spotted a nice little bar. Inside we ordered three beers, in large foaming pots. We went three rounds, and every time the beers arrived, they were accompanied by tapas bowls of delicious titbits, meat, fish, chicken and more.

Then, suitably charged we moved on down the street looking for dinner.

We found a place called Museo de Jambon, which loosely means Gallery of Ham.

There are several of these places in the city and as we discovered, their walls are lined with hundreds of cured hams, and the menu is ham,ham,ham, in every edible form.

Needless to say there was wine and dinner included a little ham...delicious!

We got back to our hotel and enjoyed a few more drinks in the lobby bar, and then bed.

Saturday dawned overcast but quite warm so after breakfast we decided to take one of those hop on hop off bus tours around the city. I had to go to the airport in the afternoon to meet Barbara who was flying in from Guayaquil, Equador. So we spent the next few hours admiring Spanish baroque buildings and monuments and lovely gardens and apartment buildings all over the city. There was some kind of festival on and the streets were very busy. Every now and then we'd see families dressed in traditional costume, the women and little girls in long frocks and headscarves with red and white flowers, and the men and boys in white shirts black trousers and flat checked caps.

It was lunchtime so we snatched a quick meal in a local restaurant, and then I set off alone for Madrid Airport, to meet Barbara.

We had arranged to go to a restaurant that evening, which specialised in traditional food and flamenco dancing.

My Spanish is very very limited so I was only able to tell my driver "Aeropuerto", which he grasped allright but he had no English at all and asked me something in Spanish which I took to be "Arrivals or departures", but I wasn't sure and had no means of telling him. I was able to convey the number of the terminal however, and after a couple of mistakes we got to where I needed to be.

Then disaster! I looked at the arrivals board and found Barbara's flight...which was delayed by four hours.

I negotiated the mystery of Spanish public phones and told Fritha and Anthony that we weren't going to make that dinner, and gritting my teeth, settled in for a long wait.

At last four hours later, Barbara appeared dragging her case through the arrival doors.

Great rejoicing and hugs and kisses, then we piled into a cab and headed back to town.

Fritha and Anthony had given the arranged dinner a miss and had spent the evening exploring.

We enjoyed drinks in the bar again, while Barb told us about her fabulous travels in Sth America. Then after a while,fatigue caught up and it was bedtime. (By the way, we'll do Barb's South American experience separately when we get back in June)

In the morning, with the sun shining, we took a Sunday stroll before Barbara attempted to get a seat on the same plane as we were. She was originally booked on a flight which would have got her to Heathrow about six hours later than us. After a lot of messing around she succeeded in getting on our plane due to leave in the early afternoon. Then when we got to the airport we found that BA had put her on a flight for the 16th of MARCH. Impossible, so we had to wait until the BA man got it sorted and we finely headed back to UK late in the afternoon.

Knackered, we got home and crashed. The next two days would be spent relaxing in the rustic peace of Norfolk.