Out of the house and waiting for a 61 bus just before eleven this morning, but having just missed one, I walked down to Cowbridge Road East and caught a 17, departing at the same time. The extra walk did me good, likewise the dash at the other end to catch the T9 airport shuttle bus. I needn't have worried, as the bus was stalled by the breakdown of its ticket machine. An engineer turned up shortly after I arrived at the bus stop, and by 11.30 we were on our way, arriving noon at the airport.
Not being as quite as early as usual checking in, there was a queue of fifty people for Vueling flights to Alicante and Malaga, but this quickly diminished. Within 35 minutes, my bag was checked in, I was through security clearance, and had an hour to wait for the departure gate to be announced.
The flight left roughly half an hour late, but arrived only ten minutes late. By half past six local time Pam and Alwyn found me, and we were on our way south to Mojacar, a journey south west of more than two hours on the A7. The setting sun was in our faces most of way, and by the time we left the autovia, for the last 20km to Mojacar, it was dark.
After dropping luggage off at the apartment, we went for a meal in an Italian restaurant, where I ate a huge plate of pasta, being very hungry after my flight and road trip. All is in darkness, so it's hard to imagine the place I've arrived in. Tomorrow will indeed be a day of discovery.
After dropping luggage off at the apartment, we went for a meal in an Italian restaurant, where I ate a huge plate of pasta, being very hungry after my flight and road trip. All is in darkness, so it's hard to imagine the place I've arrived in. Tomorrow will indeed be a day of discovery.
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