Merry Freakin Christmas

As Christmases go, I think these few days are unfolding as the perfect hail mary to the nightmarish and definitely unforgettable 2020. I’m alone in my (big by Madrid, small by Charlotte standards) apartment in Madrid.

In Spain they celebrate with a giant Christmas Eve dinner, a day of rest (and hangover) on December 25, and then another feast on January 6, Three Kings Day when kids leave their shoes outside to be filled with gifts from the kings.

My building is deathly quiet and I suppose all the people I usually hear in the stairwell or using the elevator have vamoosed to their family’s… though I’m not sure any travel is strictly legal these days. On Dec 22 entries from UK were suspended due to the new strain of COVID, except for Spanish citizens (not sure how that part is helpful to containing the spread).  On that day authorities also issued new holiday travel and socializing regulations, which seemed to only muddy the water - saying citizens have permission to socialize with allegados, which means ‘people with whom there is a close bond’ (whatever that actually means!) Additionally, regional authorities have added their own guidelines into the mix. Now everything is clear as mud and some friends experienced agents examining travel permission papers on the trains on Dec 23.

So, I’m huddled in my apartment, watching Netflix and Amazon Prime in my pjs (thankfully finding movies that still have English audio) while the history and art and culture of a thousand years is just outside my window and a thousand miles away. I’ve bought enough food to last until Sunday, lots of beer and carbs. I gave myself permission to eat cookies and pork sausage. And I read late into the night.

I just keep thinking back to the fabulous trips I’ve taken over the past few Christmases - Avignon in 2017, Krakow and Auschwitz in 2018, and my tour of Costa Rica in 2019.

What a snoozefest. Same-ole-same-ole 2020.

Eeny Meeny Miny Moe

My transition to Spain has been tough. I know, my transition was rocky to Costa Rica, Poland and even to Milano, but Madrid has been exceptionally difficult. I blame COVID.

That’s so easy to say this year, let’s just blame it all on COVID. But seriously.

My Spanish classes are online… my English classes are online… and though restaurants and bars are open, it’s not fun sitting outside in the cold drinking a beer alone. I took my life into my own hands a few weeks ago and went to a Spanish-English language exchange Meetup, where we followed COVID guidelines of max 6 people per table. I met some nice folks, one of whom contacted me to practice her English. We’ve been meeting regularly for a hot beverage and Spanglish in the early evenings, but then we both had a sore throat on the same day and I got the fear of God right fast. So now I’m back to being paralyzed to go out, even though people here are militant and even hall-monitor-esque about wearing masks.

My visa is good through Sept and all my official activities are online, so I actually almost packed up my bags and moved to Milan to stay with my friend and travel buddy. But the travel and socializing regulations are much more stringent in Italy and my friend lives in a studio, so we would be unable to get away from each other except in the bathroom. So I stayed in Madrid.

Now I’m toying with the idea of leaving Madrid for a Mediterranean beach. It’s 10F warmer and the rent is half the price of Madrid for twice the space. I have a friend and her dog who might also want to spend COVID in a beach town, so that could be the next big idea.

I love the smell…

… of Europe in the morning. Smells like science.

First afternoon in Madrid

My AirBNB host had suggested I take a cab, and I thought with a backpack, 2 suitcases, a mask (now at hour 20!) and a shield it might be good not to be navigating the metro and searching for elevators.

Good plan! My cabbie dropped me off right in front of the building. I followed the check in instructions Raul had provided with no problems, and by 1pm I was dropping my baggage at the apartment and heading off to explore.

I stepped out the door and immediately fell in love with my 'hood. There is a metro stop across the street. There is an "express" grocery store in the bottom of my building. At the corner there is a triangular plaza lined with restaurants with outdoor seating. Everyone is walking with purpose and there is an energy. I'm gonna like it here.

The two things I needed to do today were open a bank account and get a local SIM. I knew opening the account would be challenging - global efforts around Global Financial Crimes and Anti Money Laundering has mired the account open process in reams of documentation. But I found a smaller bank 1 block from my house where two ladies my age (one with excellent English) bent over backwards to help me. Next I popped two doors down into a telefono accessory shop (covers, rings, plugs, earbuds, etc.) who just happened to have a fantastic plan available.

And at that point, I crashed. Seriously. I'd been 22 hours wearing a mask and catching drips and drabs of sleep. Plus the sleep-debt since the middle of last week. So I came home to my sweet little apartment, and took a nap.

Final Flight

By this time wearing the mask (and shield) is becoming exhausting. The force of suckage I have to mount per breath is less if I remove the shield, but then my paranoia kicks in and I imagine European COVID flocking to North American eyeballs for a bit of strange.

I find a cup of hot tea and wait the 40 minutes until we start boarding for Madrid. Again, this KLM flight is maintaining distancing, so I actually had a row all to myself.

The pilot was a hoot. He started every announcement with "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls". (He left off "children of all ages" but perhaps he's never been to the Ringling Brothers B&B Circus. RIP)

This KLM flight is 2 hours and they come through immediately with a cute little breakfast. Just enough... seriously, who actually needs Big American Breakfast?

When we arrived in Madrid there was no additional border control, but there was the Health Disclosure to contend with. Due to this we were forced through a hastily erected maze to some officials who either scanned our QR Code or gathered our paper documents. Then through the double doors to baggage.

And voila, just like that, I'm on the ground in Madrid! Hooray!

Isn’t this the sweetest little breakfast… and checkout that cute little water… Though I’m not sure Greta T would be happy with that single use plastic transporting 3oz of water

Border Control

Usually when arriving on an international flight, I've been routed through the bowels of the airports. Down long white corridors with fluorescent lights far away from the glittering shops and restaurants above, up this escalator, sharp right turns with no other options, like sheep to slaughter, until you open into a grand hall where scores of airplanes have released their exhausted unwashed passengers into miles of cordons wrapped back and forth... EU citizens this line, all other passports that line. After the wait and the scrutiny you bust through a set of double doors right into the baggage area. If you're connecting you have go back through check in and TSA ... what a pain! If you're not connecting, you just missed a trip through perhaps the most beautiful shopping center in the city -- and the shopping center missed an opportunity to make a sale.

But at Amsterdam's Schiphol airport, they've found a way to maintain security while allowing the shopping experience.

Our KLM flight disembarked into the normal gate area. Then each of us chose our exit path. I needed to connect to a "domestic" KLM flight Amsterdam > Madrid. Gate C8. So I followed the signs for Gates C1-20. Through the glittering shops, past the restaurants and bars, past the artwork every airport must have these days, and then I made a slight turn and voila, Border Control. In order to get from the International section of the Terminal, to the Domestic section of the Terminal, you had to pass through Border Control. The line was very long until they realized how many EU citizens were mixed in... So they called all EU to a newly opened section, and the "All Others" line started moving fast.

The Officer was really friendly. Tall with blue eyes. Chatty and smiling and excellent English. Two questions, take off your mask and shield. OK, thanks a lot, enjoy your visit. Through the double doors and back into the glittering shopping center. Easy peasy, right? So easy, in fact, that I assumed this was Border Control Junior and I'd need to do it again once in Madrid.

I have no idea what happened to the people who weren't making domestic connections... Is there a separate Border Control station before the baggage area? Who knows?

KLM

I'd never flown KLM before and was excited to do some comparison.

My boarding pass indicated I was Zone 3, and there was no one else who got in line for Zone 3... so I was boarding the plane all alone. Gave me great opportunity to stow my backpack properly, settle with my book, etc. We did a "bio metric check in" - basically we took off our masks and they took a photo... not sure how this tied in with my boarding pass, but oh well.

The seats are huge! At first I was thinking that I'd been put into a different class than I usually fly, but it seemed all the econo seats were huge. And the leg room was great -- it's almost like the seats sit higher, so you have room to move your feet.

I overheard an attendant telling another passenger that this flight was less than 1/3 full. This is apparently why the Monday direct flight was cancelled. With so few Americans being allowed to travel into Europe, the alliance came together to provide the service of flying across the pond without unnecessarily sending empty planes. It is just more efficient to fly a fuller plan to Amsterdam and then route some passengers on to other destinations, than to fly several basically empty planes from the US to Europe. Perfect business sense (but poor execution/notification, imho).

After we got underway the attendant came through asking, would you like to move? Basically, the plane was so empty that we each could have our own 3- or 4-seat row... so we could lay down to sleep. Ummm, yeah, absolutely!

The drink and food service was different than my usual experience as well, but not really sure if this is a KLM thang or a COVID thang. Immediately after we were in the air they came by with a single cart. "What would you like to drink?" and "Would you like a meal?". It was not assumed you would actually take a meal... and there was no choice of meal. It was pasta with cheesy sauce and a mystery sprinkled on top, a green salad with a sweet dressing, and a cake with fruit filling. Not bad. They blew through quickly asking if you want tea or coffee. And then they blew through giving a ziploc with squishy things inside (the lighting had starting dimming so I really couldn't see)... What's this, I asked. Food for the rest of the trip... basically breakfast... OK, and then the lights went out... I think it was 8:30-9 at this point.

The flight to Amsterdam is only 6-6.5 hours, so the lights came back on at about midnight EDT. We scarfed our brekkies of cheese sandwiches with dijonaise, and sat back for a smooth landing. 7am and pitch black in Amsterdam.  

Overall I'll say that I enjoyed the flight, but I'm not sure how much of my enjoyment was due to KLM and how much was procedures modified due to COVID. I'll definitely fly them again.

Bizarro World

Once at the AirTrain platform I learned that Delta and KLM are in the same terminal (4). I was very happy about this.

You'll recall the Sunday night drama of my flight being changed and the helpful Delta guy who got me onto a Monday flight JFK > Amsterdam > Madrid. On our chat he specifically said "It's KLM". And the email updating my reservation showed KLM.

I know that airlines have banded together in cooperative relationships. For instance Star Alliance - United, Air Canada, LOT, TAP, 25-ish airlines that work together to cover routes. You may book with United, but actually fly on an Air Canada plane... Each flight may have 6 different flight numbers, indicating the site where you booked, but it's actually the same plane going to the same place.

[Helpful tip: Sometimes these alliance partners will sell the seats at vastly different prices. It's not unheard of to save $200 by choosing to book through Air France instead of Delta. So once you find a flight that meets your schedule, it's smart to check the other partner sites for bahgains.]

So I exected KLM to be in the Skyteam Alliance with Delta (it is), along with Alitalia, Aeroflot, and 18 others. But for him to specifically state on the chat "It's KLM" made me think, is he telling me something more that what he said... (Remember, I'm a female, I'm always analyzing male conversations for underlying meaning. As if.)

When I got to Terminal 4 I looked around in shock, fearing I'd entered the Far Side... It was empty. JFK is never empty, but it was empty. Further consideration has me thinking that I arrived (3:30 pm) at a particularly slow time for this terminal. Make a note of that time for future travel!

I stepped up to the check-in kiosk, but the system couldn't find my reservation. An older gentleman was helping people at the kiosks, and he had a hand-written list that he checked when I showed him my documentation. Ah, that's KLM, he said, and directed me to one aisle over. So my hunch had been correct, the chat agent was telling me more than he actually was saying.

I got to KLM and again, there is no one there. I was in line behind one person. In JFK. It was Bizarro world.

The customer rep was personable and helpful. She quickly found my reservation, and when she learned my final destination she started explaining about the health disclosure form required by Spain. I'd already done this online. We chatted about how taxing it is to wear a mask all day -- it is, btw... by this time I've been wearing it non-stop 4 hours and I was exhausted. She tagged my bags, confirmed that they'd be checked through to my final destination, and sent me on my way.

Once at TSA I was confused because there was no one there. There were maybe 10 people in line ahead of me. So imagine, all the noise in the TSA line, with people having different accents than you, and they're wearing masks so you can't see their mouths. Plus, the TSA rules are different in NY than CLT... backpacks go in the bin not on the belt... laptop must be flat... I was constantly cupping my ear and shouting "I can't hear you".

But then, voila, I was through and headed to my KLM gate, where I realized that even though all the tasks since arriving in JFK were smooth like buttah, I'd killed 2.5 hours and it was only 45 minutes until we begin boarding. No rushing, no stress, and time to board.

I popped to a bar across the aisle from my gate, where I was told that eating is allowed inside the restaurant, but drinking only requires to go... So, I got a local artisan draught in a plastic solo cup (feels like college up in here), and went to my gate. Here there were some people who "didn't notice" that their mask had dropped below their nostrils, but not as many as in CLT.

While sitting there with my beer I overheard some travelling coworkers talking about how their flight had been switched. They didn't know until they showed up on Monday, but the agents quickly put them into this flight. SOOOO, I wasn't the only one, other people didn't catch it until they came to the airport, and it was no problem getting on this flight. Good to know.

I’m loving this super sturdy had box that hangs on the roller bag

Beer… to go

CLT > JFK

It's 10:30pm Madrid time, I'm sitting in my fabulous apartment and thinking back over my journey of the last 30 hours.

Overall, it was a truly fantastic experience after much apprehension... some speed bumps here and there, self-imposed drama due to my totally liberal response to COVID regulations. But no bureaucratic issues.

What I first noticed is that at CLT the TSA check points have erected screens between the maze leading to the scanners... There's airflow between them, but better than nothing. There are also marks on the floor to suggest distancing.

I see that there are TSA / airport personnel standing watching... but I also saw jerkoffs removing their masks when their backs were to the hall monitors. Or they pulled them down under their nose.... It's typical American getting-away-with-something behavior and I could barely contain my inner Karen to tattle on these assholes. I mean, this is life or death for goodness sake. But I held my peace. (Can’t decide if I should be proud of not tattling, or be pissed that I didn’t take a stand.)

At the gate it was announced repetitively that the state of NY has some "health disclosure" documentation that must be completed before you're allowed to leave the arrival gate in JFK. You can either use the app from this QR code, or we have limited paper copies at the desk. I quickly popped in line, scanned the QR code, filled out the document, and got my green check mark, which I have to show once I get to NY. You have never heard so much whining from some of the passengers! Oh, the app isn't working for me, I need a paper copy, where is the pen, you should provide me a pen if you're forcing me to fill out this document... tThis whining coming from 20-somethings... who couldn't get the app to work for them. Ummm.

Oh! and while there, since when did CLT Douglas put bars actually IN the gate???!!!

Next, I had read that the flights imposed distancing, but that American flight CLT to JFK was totally booked... butts in all seats, no distancing... I had bought my flying staple M&Ms, but decided I wasn't going to die because of some mouth breather contaminating my M&Ms. So I napped instead.

Disembarking, actually at the mouth of the gate, the Health Police were there to see the green check on the app, or collect your hardcopy document.  

Once in JFK everything went smoothly -- which you know is not always the case! My luggage came quickly. I made the terminal transfer on the AirTrain with ease. This is a part I was actually afraid of because the AirTrain is on a different level than the terminal, and usually it's difficult to find elevators instead of escalators... I didn't want a replay of The Great Heathrow Debacle of 2018. But I just followed another guy dragging two suitcases and he led me straight to the elevator.

Plastic screens in CLT

Bar in the gate area

Ret to go!

Flaming meteors

As an acknowledged control freak, I work really hard to dot all the i's and cross all the t's, especially in the days and weeks leading up to a big trip. I make multi-level checklists and cross ledger between various online calendars, reminder apps, and sticky notes. Nothing is left to chance! Nothing!

Not surprisingly, and historical data will prove this, last-minute boulders of flaming shit always try to upend my plans, and they are of equal scale to the amount of control I have attempted to impose. And. And. The agony of working to clean up the flaming shit that fell from the sky onto my perfectly executed plan is exactly and exquisitely opposite to the eagerness I have to get the party started. Matter turns into energy, energy turns into matter. Nothing is ever lost in the universe. Ooohhhmmmmmmmm.

I don't know why I continue to be surprised with the flaming roadblocks, but I do. Is it possible I'm an optimist? More likely still convinced of my own infallibility.

This time, my journey begins on Monday. As expected, I have from Friday noon to Monday 11am scheduled to the nth. Lists galore... check check check... everything should go smoothly.

Then on Saturday the shit meteorite falls, putting me off my game for a few hours... But I recovered pretty quickly and was back on track. In the throes it was a pret-ty big conflagration... but it was nothing in comparison to what was to come.

So, my flight is Monday. I spent Sunday putzing around -- leisurely packing, cleaning up the apartment, getting final instructions from my AirBNB host about check-in, just normal stuff. I saw the airlines had sent my "check in now" notices to my email, but I didn't bother yet... I got plenty of time... And since I've recently added the airline apps to my phone I get these little notices popping up here and there. Too often, really. The info is great and everything, but I ignore them. I have a process, I do things in a specific order, like all OCD freaks. Don’t mess with the process!

Then I start getting really specific notices from the app... Your flight is on time... Your departure time has been updated.... And I'm thinking "Wow! they can tell that my flight tomorrow is ontime tonight! Ain't technology grand", because I know from my own work experiences that today's data analysis techniques really work miracles, and can actually determine who is in dire need of an additional credit card or a reverse mortgage.

The flaming ball of shit is not even in my mind because, hey!, I already crawled over that heap on Saturday -- I triumphed over that mother! And then I glance at the latest notice: Your flight is boarding. What? WHAT?!!!!!

So I get this surge of adrenaline and panic… and I'm shaking and pacing and can't control my hands enough to use my phone to check my documentation. And I can't slow the machine gun firing of thoughts.

What are they talking about? Who can I call? My flight is Monday! I know I scheduled for Monday! Did I schedule for Monday? Could I have actually made this big of a mistake? How can I check this? I can check the receipts. I always keep the receipts. Let's log into the airline site... How can I call them? Can we even call them anymore? OMG I'm an idiot! Am I an idiot? Did they change my flight without me knowing? What am I gonna do?

Once I regained control enough to sit down with my laptop, I flubbed the login to the airline, so I had to change my password... Then I couldn't find the soft copies of the receipts on my hard drive, probably because I couldn't spell with my dancing phalanges, so I had to search my email history. All the while my hands are still shaking and my mind is firing and my jaw is clenched and I’m hyperventilating. Eventually I pulled up and confirmed the original flight dates, logged in successfully to the airline site, tried the chat function (nope, not surprising), found a phone number, and dialed.

At this point my flight was in the air.

The VRU gave me the option of having a text conference with a customer service rep (quicker than holding for a voice), so I took that option. Within 5 minutes I was connected to a rep who was very helpful, even though I was using Cheeto-esque ALL CAPS AND EXCLAMATION MARKS IN THE HOPE OF EXPRESSING MY CURRENT STATE OF NEAR STROKE!!!!!!!!.

Turns out the Monday nonstop flight was cancelled, so I had been reassigned to the Sunday nonstop flight. Ummm.

[I have no recollection of being notified of a change in flight. I would have acted on any such notification immediately.]

The rep can get me on a Monday flight, but it has a connection in Amsterdam and arrives 3 hours later to Madrid. I'll take it! At this point I'm groveling and tugging my forelock, even though these guys were the ones who'd put me into this stroke scenario in the first place by changing my flight without my knowledge!

So, not one to beat a dead horse, I’ll say the emergency has been averted, my trip is back on track and my heart rate is back to normal, but I do have some takeaways:

• The Delta customer service chat option really works well. Feel comfortable using it.

• I’m not so sure the Delta flight-change process works that well. Shouldn’t it require the customer to acknowledge that their flight has been changed to a different date/time ... especially if it's an earlier date/time? How many others like me were panicking tonight and tying up customer service lines?

• Never assume there's only one flaming pile of shit heading your way. Even if you're an optimist. Or infallible.

Negative!

Required pre-flight rapid response test is negative! Countdown to boarding starts now!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled program

So, I finished my winter Ticapaloosa, returned to Puerto Limon on the Caribbean coast to complete my volunteer teaching assignment, and arrived in the US March 11, just in time to survive a virus, yada yada yada...

And now, I'm heading to Madrid. I have a work/study position there - with a visa! - and I'm eager to get started!

Join me as I navigate the challenges of leaving my house (agoraphobic much?!), use official documents to run the gauntlet through TSA, survive the multi-terminal connection at JFK, fly across the Atlantic in a plane where every other seat is empty (both armrests are mine! bwah ah ah ah!), convince the EU Border Control that these documents do indeed allow an American entry even during COVID, and enter a culture where citizens actually follow governmental directives to mask and distance as if their very lives depend on it. All while being masked, shielded and gloved - twice.

The adventure starts October 12.

Bernie blast

Bernie Blast

He is truly electable, and that has some establishment folks really scared.

Ticapaloosa Nosara

After scouting out the road to Nosara Sunrise B&B, which we had booked on booking.com because our AirBNB host dissed us just 10 days before our trip, we headed into the town of Playa Guiones to forage for food, a casado at Soda La Barra next to Rooms at Gaby's. We headed back to Sunrise B&B, got checked in, and went back to the beach at Guiones for the afternoon.

We strolled around the town, met a Californian who’s split his time between the US and CR for 20 years and who complains about how popular the area has gotten (I’m thinking he’s not one of those folks who wants the road to get paved and soon!), and hit the beach.

That evening our host introduced himself to us while we were drinking adult beverages on our patio, an American ex-pat, former corporate exec who now lives the good life surfing every week. He reminded us to look in the trees for monkeys, of the breakfast hours, and directed us to Playa Rosada for tomorrow.

Nosara Sunrise B&B is not on the beach, but it is high on a hill with a great view over the foliage. There is a pool and a fantastic veranda (prolly not the right word but you get the drift) with tables for breakfast and sofas for chillin. There's hot water, fabulous bathtowels, and air conditioning. Highly recommended.

Fun signs at Gaby’s

This post contains video, which can only be seen on the website.

Ticapaloosa Day 8

In leaving Playa Grande we set Waze for Nosara and headed out for our final destination.

The first route had us turning right off the main paved road and heading down a gravel one. We stopped, and considered, and went back to the main road toward Liberia. Waze recalculated and had us turn southward again a few kilometers later. Onto a gravel road. Strike 2.

We stopped and really considered this time. Waze is considered THE PRIMO route planning app for CR. We've set Waze to choose paved road over the shortest route... but maybe the settings didn't take. There's no way to tell how far it is before pavement starts on this route. We looked in Google maps... and found the largest looking road running southward parallel to the coast, to Nosara, and decided to try our luck there. So we backtracked to the main road, turned Waze off, and followed Google maps to that promising road.

Only to find it was unpaved too!

At this point we decided that we've struck out and we have no choice but to take this unpaved road, it being the only option to head south. And maybe we'll get lucky and the pavement will start soon.

No such luck, but what an eye opening trip!

The road curved back westward, and then hugged the coast the entire 50+ bumping kilometers trip. We traveled through Playa Azul, San Juanillo, an area called Black Beauty, small villages where cow pastures were oceanfront and countless soccer fields, before finally madking it to Ostional, the beach just before Nosara and a popular turtle watching spot.

At Ostional the road became wider and better maintained, but I'm not really sure this is a good thing. Apparently the government has been promising to pave the main road at Nosara for years, without it ever actually happening. But what they do do is dump and smooth a gravel mixture heavy with dust over the road of this popular beach area. Sounds great, until you drive through and see the gravel dust billowing behind cars on the road an settling onto other cars and piling on the vegetation like snow. Seriously.

I stole this photo from a Facebook page

Bernie Blast

Ticapaloosa Waltini

The next day we hit the beach early. I swim and sun while Patti takes a long walk. It turns out that while it's a good 18 kilometers by car to Tamarindo, you can actually walk there on the beach. However, to get to the Tamarindo beaches proper you have to cross a river that flows into the ocean... and there are alligators in the river. So an entrepreneur has set up shop taking folks over the river in a boat for a dollar. That’s a dollar well spent I’d say, but some dumbasses apparently still wade across.

For lunch we follow the directions of the giant billboard across from our house and take another drive through the unpaved roads in Playa Grande, where we find hidden commercial streets with hotels, bed and breakfasts, and restaurants.

We had decide to eat at The Great Waltini's at Hotel Bula Bula. With a name like that, how can you refuse? Plus their marketing slogan that they are recommended by all the tourist guidebooks (not sure if this was meant to be ironic, but since it was being shouted from a billboard I’m thinking not).

It was a long way down the white gravel road, breaking our earlier promise of refusing to travel unpaved roads, and we actually stopped to consider how far we would go unpaved before giving up the ghost... but there were several signs encouraging us to continue... so we did.

And what a nice surprise.

This post contains video, which can only be seen on the website.

Ticapaloosa Beach Art

When the tide is out, the local shellfish make some really pretty art in the sand.

I’ve never seen these cone shaped shells before