My first trip to Europe was in 2001 to Madrid, Spain. Packed my bags, got my first passport, and boarded the plane with my fun, crazy friends from the travel agency where I worked at the time.
Flying isn’t my favorite thing, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me from seeing a place older than the country in which I lived and discover another culture. I’m not a white-knuckle flyer, but anything more than a little bit of turbulence has me doing yoga breathing and reciting The Lord’s Prayer.
After a layover at JFK Airport, we boarded another plane for the overnight trip. So many perks in Business Class – thanks to the airline that sponsored our trip. As I settled in for a night’s sleep, I was awakened around midnight by the smell of freshly-baked cookies in our cabin. I think I like this!
We arrived at our hotel around 9:00am local time, and the first thing I wanted to do was sleep after the long flight. But they tell you (who are “they,” anyway?) to adjust yourself to the local time and take melatonin before bedtime, which is supposed to help with this. If you remember from a previous post, this is a short trip. We have three days to see everything in Madrid.
How soon can we get into trouble?
What I remember about that first night is trying to find a place for a late dinner. In Spain, restaurants are open extremely late, even on weeknights. You have your table for the entire evening! We couldn’t find any food that we wanted to eat, because during the time of our trip, Mad Cow Disease broke out in the U.K., so they (there “they” are again…) were advising people in Europe not to eat beef. There didn’t seem to be a lot of other readily-available edible choices, so there was a lot of olive oil and bread consumed, as Spain produces about half the world’s total olive oil. I have never eaten green olives that actually taste like olive oil – hugely different from the green olives I’m used to in the U.S., which taste very bitter.
It’s interesting to see the cultural differences of another country. I found European countries to be much more relaxed in their demeanor and to have a much better grasp of life-work balance than Americans.
On the second night of our trip we walked a cobblestone street to a large, old house that was built in the 1700’s that had been converted into a restaurant. We were seated at our table at 10:00pm, the typical dinner time in Spain and we left around 2:00am. I wanted to romanticize this experience as meaning that the Spaniards were laid back, hence the leisurely dinners. But it actually has something to do with them being in the “wrong” time zone since WWII – (Google it to learn the history).
Somewhere after the first few hours had passed and we hadn’t yet received our first few courses, my first thought was one of impatience. I’M HUNGRY!!! And yet, they still linger. Your table is yours for the evening. There was time for community – the gathering together socially to enjoy, not only the food, but the company of friends. Because it’s not about the food but about the relationships, right?
We are so used to quick service in American restaurants that we barely take the time to really savor what’s on our plate. Everything is RUSH! RUSH! RUSH! Hurry up and finish your salad so the server can take it away while your fork is still halfway to your mouth. Don’t drink your beverage too fast because they’ll rush right over to keep filling up your iced tea right after you’ve gotten the sweetness to your liking. (Did you ever notice that?) And many times they don’t even ask if you want dessert because they need your table so, TIME TO GO!
Well, I promised a bit of trouble with my friends, so here’s a story –
During the years I traveled, I liked to collect ceramic pitchers and coffee mugs from the different places I had been, which my friends knew. That night at dinner, the sangria was flowing, served from these ceramic pitchers I just loved. After paying our bill, we passed an old cabinet hutch near the front entrance that showed the same pitchers – so many that they were spilling out of the cabinet! I expressed my delight when the server told me that they were for sale for 6USD. YOU’RE KIDDING, RIGHT? Six dollars for a pitcher? SOLD!
I was so excited to have found something to add to my collection back home. As we walked back up the cobblestone street in the wee hours of that morning, my friend, Angel, opened her coat and said, “Look what I got you, Dawn!” And there was one of the pitchers hiding under her coat. “Oh, Angel,” I said, “Thank you, but I already bought one. They were selling them by the front entrance.” “Oh, I didn’t buy it,” Angel said. “This is one of the pitchers from our table. I knew you collected pitchers, so I took it for you!” She was no Angel…LOL
Fast forward to the last day of our trip. My friend, Dewey, our business development manager, is a guy from Mississippi whose Southern drawl wrapped around his words that held us captive to every word when he would tell us stories. He is, without a doubt, the funniest person I have ever known and was really a highlight of all our travels (we’ll hear more about him in later trips!). He has three kids and bought his youngest boy a collectible sword from a medieval town that we visited. This trip was taken a few years before 9/11, so you didn’t think twice about packing a sword in your suitcase! We had gone through security and were at the gate waiting to board. Over the loudspeaker we hear Dewey’s name called, asking him to report to the tarmac. The next thing we know, we’re looking through the window at our friend being escorted by security guards to some unknown location! Time to board the plane. WHERE’S DEWEY?!! Kinda like Where’s Waldo, only without the funny hat.
He was finally released in time for us to make our flight, but not before telling us, in the hysterically funny way that only he could, that they wanted to know why he had a sword in his luggage. I honestly don’t remember if they confiscated it or let him keep it because I was laughing too hard.
Chapter closed on that first trip with my travel agency peeps. Stay tuned for further adventures!
What was your trip overseas? Tell me about your experience and any funny stories you have.
