Clare's time with me here in Malaga has passed all too quickly. This morning, after packing her case we went for a walk, bought and then some fish for lunch before setting off for the airport. She is ever keen to allow more than enough time in getting started on a journey, so we left the apartment at two for a three thirty bag check-in rendezvous (according to her Vueling flight notification on the digital calendar she doesn't use). Normally three quarters of an hour is enough for a walk to the Metro stop on the Alameda and taking the thrice hourly service to the airport.
Lately I found that the number three bus from the stop outside the apartment stops not only at the Alameda, but goes on to stop outside the side entrance to Estacion Maria Zambrano, very close to the second Metro stop on the airport line, more convenient, a little less challenging if you're tugging a case behind you and the same fare cost either way. Things didn't go according to plan, however.
The number three bus which arrived on time was packed to the doors. The driver let passengers off but wouldn't let anyone one. Rather than wait ten minutes for the next one, we walked over to the Paseo del Parque where there are several bus stops for service across town, including the number one, which also drops you outside the station. This deposited us at the entrance only five minutes later than planned.
The Metro entrance has several automatic ticket machines and a wide entrance, so rarely is there a queue. On this occasion, the reason for this was that the ticketing network node has crashed and none of the machines were working! Fortunately, there was a real human being on ticket office duty, and we didn't have to queue. A competent human being is far faster than a fiddly slow automatic machine. We then had nearly fifteen minutes to wait for a train, and eventually arrived at Departures half an hour ahead of the recommended time. The check-in queue was relatively short processing thirty odd travellers in a quarter of an hour through half a dozen counters. Impressively efficient.
After a farewell cuppa, we took our leave of each other. An info panel display warned that a French air traffic controllers' strike might cause delays, but the Vueling phone app said Clare's flight was running to time. Not true. As the actual departure time approached, a delay of seventy five minutes was posted. Being prudent, she'd made a picnic meal to take with her 'just in case'. That's my girl, prepared for every eventuality. At nine, I received a text message so say she'd landed in Cardiff, and she was back at home three quarters of an hour later.
It's amazing to be able to travel such distances with relative ease, despite glitches or delays which can add a couple of hours to a journey time. Such a complex, yet routine operation for millions every day. We are so spoiled. It's such a shame that some travellers seem to make no allowances for things going awry, and get upset about it on social media or in the press.
At our age, we look back to early back-pack adventures in Greece, and having to wait an extra day for a ferry between islands, as schedules were rarely published and often elastic, according to the demand on local transport. To think - we were so young, but not in a hurry, just taking things as they came, no sense of entitlement, only of the gift of freedom to be and to travel, more or less in an organised way. In those far off days B.C. (before car), we were much blessed.
At our age, we look back to early back-pack adventures in Greece, and having to wait an extra day for a ferry between islands, as schedules were rarely published and often elastic, according to the demand on local transport. To think - we were so young, but not in a hurry, just taking things as they came, no sense of entitlement, only of the gift of freedom to be and to travel, more or less in an organised way. In those far off days B.C. (before car), we were much blessed.
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