Here are some very random musings from the Editor...
(Editor's Note: This was going to be for the whole trip, but as you probably will be able to tell, got pretty long. So know it will be split up into different segments... Enjoy)
Best Part of Flight There: KP slept for most of it. (the portable crib under the airplane seat was huge!)
Worst Part of the Flight There: Maine and I did not. (not much leg room for the padres!)
Problems Flying with the Pizz: none
Scariest Moment of the Flight Over: when the airline attendant at the gate in Atlanta asked for our "Infant Ticket"... er... what Infant Ticket? She's on our laps. Turns out there is some international law that requires all passengers to be ticketed when flying international. So after about 30minutes of severe frustration and GERD production (I mean its the trip or the Pizz type discussions), we had to fork over an additional $300 for a seat on the Maine's lap. (So now we all know how much she is worth... hee hee)
Best Changing KP in the Airplane Story: unfortunately nothing bad happened to me. The Maine and I took alternating turns with the "hot potato." It is a little cramped in there. There is a high degree of anxiety, as well as dexterity involved at changing the Pizz at 30000ft. At one point, I had 1 hand holding down a squirming Pizz, with the other fumbling around for wet wipes, while pressing my chest/abdomen against the portable table, with my foot against the wall for balance. Fortunately no one was hurt in the experience. The Maine, however, did get the "hot potato" dropped a couple of times with a golden shower to wash it all down!
Problems with Passport Control: The fact that they only looked at our passports for about 10seconds total (for all 3) was very, very disturbing. First of all, I was nervous that they wouldn't think that the Pizz was ours. Second, I was trying to act all suave, to mirror my GlamorShot photo. All for naught! The damned guard didn't care for a second! He was more interested in the slender Turkish female in the line to the right! Sheesh! I almost wanted to go back through the line...
Problems with checking in: European airports are totally different from American ones. There is no respect for lines, at all. It is more of a suggestion. Also, there are different lines for different things (that could all be reasonably done in 1 line). Case in point: to check in to the Pamplona flight, we had to go to the Internet Kiosk to do it. Ok, no problem. This looks familiar. Now there are about 20 kiosks to check in to, but on 2 have a line. Interesting. So the Maine and I, being all too much about speed, try one of the free ones. Broke. Another free one... broken too. Seriously!?!?! So now, we wait to get to the kiosk and check in, and we have to check our bag. It spits out the baggage tag, and shows you how to apply. I follow the directions, and did so accordingly. Then we try to figure out where to drop the bag off. This is another line, which is essentially 4 times as long as the first. In this line, I see everyone else holding their tags. Hmmm. Did they not follow the directions? Then we finally meander up to a station, and essentially re-check ourselves in. Seriously?!?!? I mean, is this from the Department of Redundancy Department or what? No wonder you guys lost the "New World"...
Spanish People Come in All Shapes and Sizes: There are no better places to watch people then at airports. Man this was interesting. This though, however, comes directly from the one before it. The problem with meandering airport lines is that you can wind up seeing the same people over and over again, with a small delay in between. When first started our line, I was just glancing around and saw an middle-aged woman wearing a low cut tanktop. This is where the excitement ended. The tanktop had such a plunging neck line, that I swear I could have seen her belly button if I had not turned away from the hideousness of it all. She had no top-shelf support what-so-ever, and was in dire need of some. These fun bags looked like they lost their fun about 2 decades ago. They almost drooped more then some elements of Dali's paintings. It was with this severe shock and horror (which I do not feel that I justly portrayed), I turned away. I instantly made eye-contact with the Maine, and knew instantaneously that she had seen it too. It took about 10 minutes for this image to become unburned from my retinas, when the line meandered around and I saw her again!
Airport Hunger: Sometimes you are so hungry, you have only the option in front of you. Turns out, our only option in front of us was McDonalds. Go figure! We come over to this lovely country to eat amazing food and drink tasty wine, only to be ordering a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, Fries and a Coca Light with our first meal. I couldn't have felt more prouder about myself.
Best Item on McDonalds Menu: Beer, on draught! Too bad this hasn't transferred back across the pond.
Best Feature of the New Terminal at Madrid's Airport: A free baby nursery! Man this place was sweet. Play room. Cribs. Changing tables. Tub to wash. Absolutely amazing. Perfect for travelling with the Pizz.
Worst Part about this Baby Nursery: We found this place 4 hours into our 5 hour layover. Also after trying to bath the Pizz in a Family Bathroom... with a small European sink, some toilet paper, and a hand-blower/dryer thingie. Damn, we spent more time cleaning up that bathroom then cleaning the Pizz.
Airline Safety: Interestingly, the Spanish airline seemed much more concerned when flying with an infant in arms, then we do in the US. They saw the baby when we sat down, and immediately came over with an infant life vest and an infant seat belt. By this point, I was exhausted and thought they were gifts. When the stewardess asked if I knew how to use them, my quizzical look gave us away. Then she showed us how to buckle the Pizz into the Maine's lap. (which we also had to pay for, but known more in advance...)
KP's Abilities to Pass Out Cuteness: Man, this girl has got it going. She was on her game the whole time. Smiling and pointing to everyone everywhere. She was on her game!
Welcome to Pamplona International Airport: I get a huge kick out of this one. This place is essentially a glorified bus terminal with 2 "gates", 2 "airport screeners", a large tarmac, and 1 runway. There are usually only 6 flights a day, about 2-3 to Barcelona and the rest to Madrid. I still can't figure out how it is called International. Sketchy!
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