Why is that in quotes, you may ask? Oh, that’s because my trip to Santiago de Compostela didn’t happen. In fact, this is the only evidence I have that I even left Granada:
Thursday night, I was feeling a little under the weather, but I pushed my feelings aside, went to the farmacia to get some tylenol and packed up for my trip. My friend Peter and I met up at the bus station just in time to catch the last bus to Malaga (we were flying from the Malaga airport). We had a lovely bus ride chatting and talking about the meaning of life. Upon arrival, we found our friends Joey and Reed and camped out in the airport for a couple of hours to wait to check in with Ryan Air. Our flight left at 6:30, so we could check-in at 4:30 a.m. I feel asleep in a booth in a cafe, and woke up to Peter telling me it was time to check in. Little did I know that it would be DOOM (how’s that for dramatic foreshadowing?).
Yes, so the Ryan Air employee told me that I couldn’t get on the plane because I didn’t have my passport. Even though I had my Spanish ID card (which you need a passport and a visa to acquire) and a photocopy of my passport (woman told me it didn’t count) and I wasn’t leaving the country. I guess it was too much logical reasoning to override their very strict policy, so I was 1.5 hours away from home and out of luck. There may have been tears shed. I said goodbye to my friends and waited for three hours until I could get the next bus back to Granada. On the bright side, (which is actually more like…partly-cloudy) I was very very sick with the flu for the next 4 days, and I would much prefer to endure the woes of illness in my own bed than in a hostel.
Best weekend EVER!