Wow what a day it has been. I’ve now been traveling for 12 hours. Let’s start from the beginning.
Woke up at 7:30. Showered and ate. My bag was all packed up, turned off my bombona (that’s my water heater) and was all set for my first trip to Scotland, but more importantly I was extremely excited to go visit two of my best friends whom I’ve been missing loads.
My Ryanair flight was leaving from Malaga, so I had to make my way all the way over there, not an extremely easy feat considering it’s all the way on the other side of Andalucía. Anyway, got a ride to the train station in Jerez, then caught the 1 hr train to Dos Hermanas. I had a nice coffee and a delicious toast with olive oil , tomato purée and salt, and was happier than a clam after witnessing an English man try to order a coffee with literally a 0 word Spanish vocabulary. I was feeling good. After waiting an hr in DH, I boarded my next train which was going to Málaga. The train ride was a pleasant 2.5 hour journey which included some stunning landscapes that I hadn’t seen before.
I got to Málaga at 1:55pm, 20 minutes after our scheduled arrival time. I should have taken this as foreshadowing of what I was in for. My flight was scheduled for 3:45 so this was perfect. I walked across the street from the train station to the bus station to catch the 2€ airport bus, to see it pull away as I was just 50 meters away from the stop. Again, foreshadowing. The next bus wasn’t coming for 30 minutes so I sucked it up and grudgingly paid for the 20€ taxi to the airport so that I wouldn’t miss my flight (HAHA).
I proceeded to the Ryanair visa check window, got my stamp, headed through security, and then coughed up 8.50 for a “value” meal at Burger King. When our gate was announced, I headed over to D47. I was in line behind 4 other American girls who were, almost definitely, auxiliares as well. They were being a little obnoxious so when we finally boarded and they headed to the back door of the plane, I headed towards the front door so I wouldn’t have to sit near them during the flight. Turns out they end up sitting in the row right in front of me. “Is this a joke?” I proceeded I ask myself. It was not.
Anyways, I sat patiently reading my kindle…15 minutes pass.. 20….everyone is seated but still, nothing. 35 minutes of (not even) taxi-ing, and finally an announcement. Small technical error, but don’t worry, we’ve called the engineer and he should have it fixed in 10 minutes. Blah. Did I mention that I had to make a connection in Paris in order to get to Glasgow? So there I am, sitting on the plane. At this point it’s 4:45, an hour after our scheduled take off time. Another announcement. Unfortunately, the technical error is worse than we thought and were going to have to get of this plane and wait for another one. FFFFF. Seriously? This isn’t a joke? Ok just checking. So I get off the plane. After mobs of angries swarmed the two Ryanair workers to figure out what the eff was going on, I proceeded to the bathroom to have myself a little cry. I just knew in my gut that I was going to miss my flight that was supposed to be leaving from Paris at 8:45. I composed myself, and went to talk to the gate agent. I explained that due to this delay, I was now going to miss my next flight. I was told that Ryanair doesn’t “do” connections, but when I re-explained on the verge of tears, a phone call was made and I was approved to take the direct flight from Malaga to Glasgow tomorrow morning. “I guess it could have been worse,” I thought to myself. FORESHADOWING. All I had to do was simply go to the Ryanair passport check window allllll the way back on the other side of security and everything, to get my new boarding pass. I was really worried about how I was going to spend the night in Malaga. I don’t know anyone there and I was not about to wander in search of a hostel in the dark in a city that I don’t know.
So I get to the window, told her I was the “Glasgow girl” who’s story she had heard over the phone, and she went to print my new boarding pass for the flight tomorrow. The flight that, actually… There ISN’T a flight tomorrow. Sorry! There’s one on Saturday night. So then I start straight up crying to her face. She’s like, well, we can give you a refund for the flight. FLIGHT??? Don’t you mean FLIGHTS??? THREE FLIGHTS. No. Just the one to Paris. You’ll have to call or fax (what is this 1996?!) your complaint to our headquarters to try to get a refund for the other flights. At this point I didn’t even have the energy to get pissed. I was so so sad. I slinked around the corner, slid down the wall and started full out SOBBING next to a plant. And the janitor. Who almost ran me over with his giant yellow dumpster-on-wheels.
At this point I really had no more options. I used my phone, with its dwindling battery power, to look up train times from Malaga to Dos Hermanas, and times from DH to Jerez. No dice. I could only catch a train to Dos Hermanas, but not to Jerez. So what would I do? Go to Seville and stay with a friend? Ok. One friend is out of town, the other didn’t pick up the phone or respond to my Whatsapps. Greatttt. Then I started crying again. Not sobbing, but leaking.
I caught the 2€ bus back to the bus/train station (literally had to run for it… Some kind soul must have seen me coming cause the doors opened back up as I approached, but wouldn’t that just have been the icing on the cake??) and bought a ticket for the next train to Dos Hermanas (which is an hour away from Arcos so not super convenient). Anyways. At THIS point, I had 3% battery left on my phone and still didn’t know how I was getting back to Arcos from DH. After some networking and tearful phone calls (in Spanish, por diossss), I finally had a ride home.
So here I am on the train to DH. And that is the story of how I spent 80€ in one day to go to Arcos de la Frontera.