We arrive at the bus station by midnight and have a one hour wait. The cafeteria is open. We cool off with a couple of ice cold Sprites. The bus is cool and comfortable. We both nod off from time to time on the four hour trip.
There is a stop half way through the journey at a large highway cafe used by the bus lines for pit stops. In honor of a habit that Claire taught me years ago we take a nice little walk, circling the building to stretch our legs. Jarod asks me the same question I asked Claire the first time I walked with her. Might the bus leave without us?
We walk from the Mardid bus station about a kilometer to Atocha, the main train station. From there we take an airport bus to Barajas. The cost is 5 euros per person. A similar price and much easier than the metro, which requires two connections.
We have breakfast at Barajas. Jarod’s last Spanish meal.
We check in at the American Airlines information desk beside the check-in counters. I complete the escort form and we check one of Jarod’s bags. We are instructed to return to the information desk at noon to meet Jarod’s escort. I am given a special ticket so that I can go with Jarod and his escort to the gate.
An interesting sculpture.
Jarod uses a baggage cart to practice his drift technique.
We wander around, watch planes take off and explore all of Terminal 4 this side of the security barriers.
With the escort we are able to bypass the lines at security, customs and boarding. Jarod is on his plane 15 minutes after we walk away from the check-in area.
I watch the plane until it leaves the gate. Then I slowly make my way out of the airport and catch the return bus to town.
I have lunch at a sidewalk cafe near Atocha and then walk to the bus station. I try to board a 4 PM bus with my 5 PM ticket but it is full.
The traffic is heavy on the highway back to Valencia, at times almost coming to a halt. The Madrileños want to spend their weekend at the beach. Our driver is expert at diverting on to access roads and then rejoining the highway after passing dozens of cars.
By the time I get to the flat I’m almost certain that Jarod has beat me home.