Arriving in Spain

20 10 2009

The trip to Spain started with an early trip in heavy traffic to Gatwick. When I got there I realised I’d left all my coats in Jody’s living room 😦 So I have 1 jacket here until I can find someone who is coming across from London with space in their luggage… Having said that, I reached Spain in one piece 🙂 When I got to check in they had a fit at my luggage but after two repacks and by transferring 4 bags into 3, they let me through without an extra cost.

At Malaga, you have to walk through the car park and over the bridge to get to this little country-like train station. When I got to the bottom of the ramp and took my luggage off I realised my only remaining jacket had fallen off. Split second decision… abandon your bags and race back for the jacket risking losing everything else, repack and re-lug 30kilos of stuff back on the trolley and up the hill, by which time the only item that will save me from winter’ll probably be long gone…

I raced back up the ramp, which paid off because I guy was looking for me to give me the jacket and when I ran back to my luggage it was all in one piece J. But since I was already wearing as many layers as I could to lighten my luggage, I was imitating a personal sauna. Then the station has no ramps so I had to try and look puppy dog eyed to get someone to come help me carry my bags up the 10 steps. The train into Malaga central was pretty quick and we flew in 20 minutes ahead of schedule, but I still cut it too fine catching the regional train to Cordoba, especially since I’m standing around trying to work out if you just walk up to the counter, getting more and more frustrated at the lack of queuing, without realizing there’s a ticket dispenser giving out numbers. But there was an older guy with a little English who explained it and eventually I had the ticket and a seat near the platform a nice little wait for my train. 

At the train station in Cordoba, Peter Knowlson, an English missionary was standing on the bridge wearing the funniest hat. I totally didn’t notice him til he came up to me asking if I was Chloë. He wore a floppy hat was meant to helpfully identify him, but seriously, since I had no idea I was meant to look for a hooded man, I thought he just had interesting taste. Then only a short ride later, I’d met the family, unpacked my bags, had dinner and a shower and fell into my new bed.

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One response

3 01 2011
catchingchloe

Editors comment: I have since been informed that the hat was in reference to the long tradition in Australian History that has seen the hat tied to the ANZACs, the Bushman and the Man of the Land as well as being featured in our Olympic Uniform -, its so iconically Australian. Of course now it seems really obvious – and genuinely helpful… Only, the bogan in me didn’t recognise it without the corks!

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