this trip's overview

(about the Islands)

SFO to LHR

stranded!

LHR to LHR

spending Iberia's money

baggage arrives

along the beachfront

visiting el Medico

Isaac's first haircut

R & R

Faro Maspalomas

cockroaches!

San Fernando

All over...

Puerto de Rico & Puerto de Mogán

el penultimo

on to London

Thursday 09 January 2003

Once in the terminal 2 international departure area a quick stop at the Iberia lounge gets us the departure information (not yet posted on the monitors) and so we stop off at a pub for a traditional English breakfast. Two of them, actually. Then we double-time to the gate only to find that boarding hasn't yet started, as opposed to the Last Call shown on the monitors. Grrr, I would have liked to have finished that breakfast.

We're taxing before the break of dawn, and exposures are too slow to do anything other than give an eerily accurate view of how I felt, given the circumstances.

It's an uneventful flight, but as we're landing we're directed to the windows, to see the snowfall over northern Spain. We're told that snow may hit Madrid-Barajas around noon, jeopardizing the next departure.

But the snow may be unnecessary to have us miss it. The bus driving us around the airport, stopping at employee stop after another, another round of security, and the endless lines for everything else will conspire to have us miss this connection. Of course, it being Iberia, it's staggeringly late, and so everything turns out well.

Lila sleeps through both plane flights, her body clock still on San Francisco time. Isaac was in a wretched mood this morning, but has been tolerable and occasional charming moment. He's really a sweet traveller, given the amazing stuff he puts up with. We tell him so.

Finally we arrive at Las Palmas de Gran Canaria (LPA) airport.

Our three duffel bags and baby carrier, somewhat predictably, don't.

The baggage handler is very pleasant, hoping for a resolution later in the day (which doesn't happen, but she makes me feel good about the wish).

We're hailed by a cabbie, and since I know it ought to be about 30 €, I make sure before I agree. He's not driving the Mercedes taxi I've come to know and love, but rather a ten- or fifteen-person bus.

We're off, enjoying the autobahn ethic, but from a vantage point higher than others on the road. Very, very pleasant. It's amazing to me how people living on a vacation isle can do a better job of pulling out of the passing lane than we in driven, type A, non-stop USA.

We pass a huge windmill farm. Finally someone has figured out how to put the ceaseless choppy winds to good use.

Late at night, after the family has gone to sleep (and with Rose's permission) I go downstairs to Gisela and Rainer, and their wonderful restaurant. Tornedous Atlantis. Mmmm.

Tomorrow we'll find out that it's time to spend Iberia's money.

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