Traveling to Lourdes, France

And off we go...

Let us begin by saying Happy Birthday to my Dad!! My father and I are extremely excited for the journey that lies ahead on the Camino del Santiago. However, we must actually travel there before we can truly "get started." A good number of my most memorable traveling moments have been during the "in between" portion of a trip...walks to a bus station, sleeping in abandoned train cars during a workers' strike, sprinting through airport hallways in attempts to make a flight that was scheduled to depart five minutes prior, etc. This time around did not disappoint. 

First up was a rather uneventful bus ride from DC to NYC, aside from the huge space shuttle piggy-backed on top of a private jet that flew quite close to the Capitol building. You know, just another day in DC. Travel tip: if you are within a 30-minute window of departure for anything, a trip to Starbucks really shouldn't be one of your "how to pass the time" options. Let's just say running, shouting "wait," and waving frantically with an extra hot, half-caff latte in your hand is both dangerous and, more simply, not attractive. We were fortunate enough to have a couple hours in New York to meet up with Genevieve, Yesim, and my friend Ellen for some lunch, laughs, chocolate, and hugs prior to our flight. An abnormally slow express train took us to where we caught the AirTran shuttle to JFK. Travel tip: if approaching a near stagnant security line (thanks to the now-mandatory X-ray that takes about 40 seconds a scan), look around for a family with multiple children. Then, ask to borrow one for the next minute or so. TSA does not scan children or any of their accompanying adults. Just an idea. 

Poor Dad fell asleep before the plane even reached the runway. He had pulled an all-nighter writing and reviewing various documents for his work, so he needed any minute he could find. No one should spend their birthday like that :( This was actually a common theme for every single section of this process - within two minutes of being in a sitting, stationary position, the sleeping head bobs would commence. Travel tip: in order to prevent your mouth from falling agape during your first REM cycle (which really isn't cute and usually leads to some droolage), use a C-shaped, inflatable travel pillow with the opening at your neck and simply nestle your chin right on in there.

The first words that come to mind when I think of Madrid's airport: bright and sterile. That airport is so clean, I was tempted to grab a real nap right there in the hallway leading to baggage claim. Props to the magnificent and hard-working custodial team of Madrid-Barajas Airport. Travel tip: when choosing which immigration control line to stand in, choose the one in which the immigration officer is sleeping. Though you could reason that waking him up in order to stamp your passport could aggravate him, the reality is that he will do anything to grab a few more zzz's. I am actually uncertain as to whether he was awake or asleep when he stamped my passport. There was definitely no looking up for a picture comparison. 

Next up was a flight from Madrid to Toulouse. Standing in the check-in line for EasyJet, we were approached by a woman who I will refer to as Trusting Lady. She approached us with a relatively logical question (Spanish, of course)- "Do you know if I need to stand in this line if I already have my boarding pass and am not checking a bag?" The startled look on Dad's face and his rapid fire finger pointing my direction was just enough for the lady to ask, "Which language?" From there, it gets a little hazy, but within 7 sentences of exchange, I knew she had one biological child, had adopted one from China, and that she'd breast fed them both. She is an incredibly intelligent woman, very sincere and genuine, and seems to be very down to earth. I come from a world where being overly trusting gets you into trouble. She does not come from the same world. By the front of the line, I had an invitation to live with her in India in exchange for tutoring her daughter in math and she was going to send Dad the contact information for a man who lives in Herndon that she thinks he "will really like." She really just did a roll-by the counter because she didn't have any bags to check. Not only do I now have a full name and email address written on the back page of one of my favorite books, but also her mailing address, cell and home phone numbers, and full names of both her children. Sadly, I know more about this woman that I did the majority of my coworkers. Conversation between Dad and I after that was minimal - honestly, how can you top a random encounter like that? Once on the plane, we settled in for some upright napping. Though I fully understand that times are tough for most, are baby cups of water really too expensive to hand out during a flight EasyJet? 

On this particular day, EasyJet was also as good with putting bags on the baggage claim belts as the stewardesses were at serving beverages...not stellar. We waited about 30 minutes at carousel 5 before an announcement overhead changed it to another carousel. After another 30 minutes, when most people we recognized from our flight had left with bags in hand, as did another whole flight from Rome, we understood that baggage loss was not calculated in the timing for remaining travel connections. After running around and asking whoever would answer me after hearing "je ne parle pas francais" (eye-rolling and heavy sighing from the Frenchman working in the Information center who had a British flag next to his name plate was not appreciated), we were thankfully able to locate his bag five up-and-down passes of the terminal later.  We quickly hopped a bus into town, galloped to the train station, and finally convinced the teller at the ticket counter to print our pre-paid tickets...exactly 3 minutes before our train pulled away from the station. 

The head bobbing resumed for Dad, while I attempted to communicate to a young French college student using Spanish as the common language. It was...painful! You could tell he was so energetic and had so much to say, but his Spanish turned into French in the middle of every sentence. He is an architecture/art student working on a project about the subway system's infrastructure, who also happens to really enjoy talking about politics and random trivia. I don't enjoy talking about politics in ANY language, especially regarding candidates from a different country that I know nothing about in a language I cannot understand. This is fact: I know more Japanese than I do French. On paper, I am okay to understand the basics, but that crazy pronunciation throws me into immediate deer-in-headlight mode, whether someone is speaking to me directly or not. And Dad...let's just say the two greetings he does know - Bon jour et Bon sour - are used as often as possible, even in the wrong context and as a form of " thank you" and "no problem."

Finally, we made it to Lourdes! Travel tip: when looking at a map, always check the scale. The map of Lourdes looked comparable to London, thus making walking seem like a ridiculous suggestion by my father. However, shortly after we began walking to the point on the exact opposite side of town (according to the map), we reached our hotel. Score one for Dad. Within an hour of checking in, we had found a creperie, stuffed our faces with crepe goodness, and subsequently passed out. Traveling is tiring, for sure.

With biorhythms askew, Dad and I somehow managed to find ways to entertain ourselves for three hours before the breakfast began at 06:30. Afterwards, we tried the sleeping thing again before heading out to explore. Lourdes is beautiful French town set to the backdrop of the snow-covered Pyrenees in the distance and lush green hillsides in the foreground. We walked around the city and spent some time exploring their ornate cathedral. At one point, we ended up on the 5th floor of a hospital, as one does - not an intended tourist stop but the patio provided a nice view of the town and hillside castle. Timing is crucial - lucky for us, our two-day trip to Lourdes coincided with the largest annual 4-day youth pilgrimage in all of France. In other words, thousands upon thousands of middle- and high school-aged children roaming the streets in their respective posses and frequently breaking out into song and chanting, similar to what one might hear at a futbol match. The police only intervene starting at midnight to help quiet the masses. By some amazing stroke of luck, our room is perfectly positioned and somehow creates an almost sound-proof barrier from all of the shenanigans (yes, I sound old). 

Coming home from backpacking (thank you autocorrect for changing backpacking to crack packing), the basics seemed like luxuries - toilet paper, towels that actually absorb water, potable tap water, toilets that function if flushed with toilet paper in them,  sheets, hot water and water pressure coexisting in the same moment, more than 3 changes of clothes, etc. However, on just the second day of this journey, we have experienced true luxury. Not only is our hotel room large enough to fit in without having to close a door, step to the side, or climb atop a bed or inside a tub to allow another to enter (believe me, in France, this is quite a feat), but the bathroom came equipped with a towel warmer! Luxury is: stepping out of a hot shower and burying your face in a warmed towel that just so happens to smell like cookie dough! Are you serious?!? Because that actually just happened. Towel warmers...absolutely unnecessary but 100% appreciated on this cold and rainy day. Additional benefit = your hand-washed clothes dry in half the time. 

Tomorrow, we head to the starting town of St. Jean Pied de Port via Bayonne! Saturday will be our first day of walking. I am anticipating that by 10am Saturday morning, Dad and I will have reached a heightened level of enlightenment regarding material possessions and be chucking things left and right from our bag!

Happy Birthday Grandpa Hal!