Stratford to London; London to Barcelona

After waking up from a dream that all my stuff was stolen out of my bag (…but I still had the bag for all the good THAT did me) at 2:30 in the morning, I slept fitfully, if at all, until it was time to wake up…at 5:30 in the morning.

The reason to wake up at 5:30? Because the bus from Stratford to London was leaving at 7:05 and I had to walk the 2 miles to the bus station.

Ain’t traveling fun? Well just wait, it gets better…

After a three or so hour bus ride back to London, I found a suitable hang out at the bus station in which to get some studying done while I waited the three hours for the shuttle to the Stansted airport.

Apparently there had been a massive car accident outside the airport while I was waiting because a nice gentlemen in a neon blazer (some kind of official or something) came along and told everyone that was waiting that the shuttles that there was going to be about a half hour late.

I had given myself a good two hour window, but anything not going according to plan when it comes to flights should give one a bit of pause. Once I got used to the idea that things might not go as planned, I settled myself and got used to waiting around for the bus to come while all the other people waiting with me freaked out and incessantly looked down the road as if they could magically make the bus appear. With the seabag (on loan from the wife-ish) by my side I had my own “Lone Sailor” moment. Which is odd, because I never had one of those while I was actually in the Navy (the buddy system was strictly enforced).

Got to the gate with plenty of time, though. Everything seemed to be going great. The passengers boarded and it seemed like everybody was going to get their own row (Easyjet doesn’t assign seating; apparently you just get there and sit down where you want).

The great going came to a great halt when about 50 ten to fourteen year olds started to trickle in. It was like a stereo being turned on, and then turned up incrementally with each kid that passed through the doorway. It was not a good flight (though it wasn’t my worst…that still remains to be Philadelphia to Providence – but that’s a story for another time).

There’s a big hullabaloo in Britain right now about the use of Mosquitoes. Mosquitoes, as I understand, are little speakers that let out a pitch that causes humans, aged 3 to 21 (or so), great discomfort, and has been used to keep children from loitering and hanging out. It’s causing quite a stir. My original thought was that it seemed kind of crude, but after spending a three hour flight with the over-privileged youth of England, I wanted to cause them discomfort as well. (Personal note: Thanks go to the wife-ish for the ipod. Had I not had it, who knows what kind of international trouble I would have gotten into…I wont say this often, BUT THANKS FOR KEEPING ME OUT OF JAIL!!!)

Got to Barcelona, finally…but unfortunately my good ear has yet to equalize so I can hardly hear anything. That, coupled with the fact that I’m in Spain and everyone is speaking Spanish is a bit of a problem. I figured it out though. Took the train to the metrostation, and the metro to the Hostel. The hostel took some time to find seeing as Barcelona, like London, changes the names of streets – mid-street.

But I made it to the hostel, and had probably the best shower of my life. The kids I’m sharing a room with seem a little leery of me, and I can’t blame them, but whatever, tomorrow…I’m going to explore Barcelona.

It’s happened to me a lot since I left the Navy and fell in love with my wife-ish, but this is the first time on this trip where I’ve had to step back and wonder, “how on Earth did I end up HERE, and what have I done to deserve this privilege?”

Now if only that ear would equalize….