December 10, 2009 Flight Day!

Well, as luck would have it, just as we finished closing up the house and sat down to lunch at the new Mexican café at Taste (which is fabulous BTW!), I started to feel the aches of the flu setting in. By the time we drove to Newark airport, made it though security and into el lounge de presidente de Continental, I had more aches then a WWF wrestler, the chills, a wickedly sore throat and a headache. I was convinced it was N1H1 or Ebola. Luckily we were able to stop at a CVS along the way and get Theraflu and Nyquil. I downed a Theraflu in the lounge and seriously contemplated taking a cocktail of the two PLUS an Ambien as we boarded the plane.

Do you see this photo?


It’s sad little me, patient zero, seated all by myself (the photo reminds me of Beaker from The Muppet Show). Christopher took this shot from his seat a few rows ahead (we chose to sit apart because he needed an aisle seat and I needed a window seat). My quarantine didn’t last all that long as I did end up with a row mate, but only one.
After taking only an Ambien and a Theraflu just after takeoff, I awoke on the approach to Madrid feeling worse than ever. Planes and drugged illness do not mix! The chills were back and the aches were worse since I hadn’t moved in 7 hours.
We made our way through customs and into the bright, sunny Spanish morning (about 38 degrees) so we could board the free shuttle that took us to the Iberia terminal #4 a couple of miles down the road. Even in my weakened state I found the architecture of this terminal just amazing! Unfortunately I did not have the wherewithal to grab my camera for some photos.
Christopher let me sit with the bags as he forged his way through this immense terminal trying to find a self check in (we were changing airlines at this point; our bags had been checked through but we weren’t). He returned having successfully checked us in and now we faced the fact that we had five hours to be wandering around the terminal. I was not up for that, but I was desperate for a cup of hot water so I could feed my Theraflu addiction. We decided to take a drastic measure and try to sneak into el lounge de presidente de Iberia. We had no status with that airline but thought the platinum AmEx card that got us into Continental’s lounge would be the key to this lounge too. We knew it was a long shot but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to ask and, if playing dumb didn’t work, we could play the N1H1/Ebola card.
We approached the frosted glass doors of the lounge (doors that are meant to keep the hoi polloi like us from even peaking inside), they parted and we saw a large desk of gate keepers that were frantically trying to calm the 10-12 upset passengers that stood in front of them (seems that a flight to Heathrow was cancelled or delayed due to weather). Schadenfreude crept onto our faces and we slipped by the lot of them and into verboten territory.

Within minutes I fed my addiction and this is what I looked like:



I was awakened by a cleaning woman trying to use a dust mop around my feet. She looked sorry for me and told me in Spanish that I understood! (it must have been the drugs), that there were beds at the other end of the lounge. I thought I was hallucinating but ended up wandering down there to find what was called the “relaxation room”. It was dark and quiet and there was a free bed! While I napped (at this point I think I was still trying to figure out if it was sickness fatigue or residual Ambien that was kicking my butt) Christopher guarded the bags and played games on his phone (and kept a watchful eye for a sign that we would get booted from the sanctuary!) I awoke with enough time to grab a sandwich (LOVE the free stuff in the presidente lounges!) and head to our gate.
We boarded a very empty flight for the last leg of our journey.
An interesting observation….
On the flight from Madrid to Almeria I realized how barren and desert-like the Spanish landscape was. From the time we crossed the Spanish coast line until we landed in Madrid and again from Madrid to Almeria the landscape was the same. It reminded me of Palm Springs. It’s beautiful but its desert.

Our final segment…
It was an easy hour’s flight from Madrid to Almeria. The runway at the Almeria airport runs parallel to and only 200 yrds from the Mediterranean which made for a beautiful landing. We walked across the tarmac and into the luggage claim area and waited for our bags. We had all of our bags but one and the last bag to come shooting through the breeze flaps was a sorry, broken, taped together bag with a belt and boxer shorts hanging out the sides……it was ours.
The wonderful ground assistant helped Christopher start the paperwork for the damaged bag. In the end he’ll get a new suitcase.
Remember how we said we were bringing our phone so we could hook it up over here and you could call us just like we were at home? Well, the phone was in that suitcase and it was destroyed! (we’ll get a new phone too) The only thing missing and/or broken was that phone. So…..you can’t call us but you can still send emails.
If you do call you’ll get our answering machine, leave a message and we’ll get it via email.
Another interesting note……
On our approach to Almeria we could see what looked like large factory buildings. These buildings turned out to be tarped, hothouses for growing tomatoes. It seems that Almeria grows 60% of the tomatoes that are consumed in the EU. This (now ecologically sound) enterprise has turned a depressed part of Spain into one of the most prosperous.

Carlos and Tom met us at the airport and drove us to their home (our new abode for the next three months) at which point I had to take to my bed for the night…..the chills had settled back in and I was now desperate for a NyQuil! Tom and Carlos made dinner for Christopher and spent the evening catching up. I was in bed hoping for a great night so I could be in full swing tomorrow!