25 June 2022

Day 12: return to the UK

(last night we stayed up late talking about the horrible Roe reversal)

Apparently, the rain in Spain sometimes falls on the mountains.  In buckets.  Deluges, really.  Today’s weather was what we had been forecasted to have all week, and I’m really glad it only arrived today, as we said ‘adios’ to Spain.

Today was a big day of travel.  The house started to wake up at 6.15, and B/A/O were on the road by 8.30 for their morning flight.  The rest of us left shortly after 10, when our host Javier came by to see us off.  Javier’s a delightful retiree out of San Sebastian.  He speaks only Spanish and a bit of French, so I ended up being the communicator/translator with him (and with most of the interactions with folks during this trip).  




Javier checked us out and waved goodbye as C/D/S/H and I backed precariously down the driveway and started the 60 minute drive back to Bilbao.  At the airport, we checked in to our flight and grabbed one final lunch of Basque food - seafood stew, grilled octopus, and more - before boarding the quick flight to Madrid.  We were fortunate enough to book business class for this trip, which let us bypass the super-long lines at check-in and boarding.  Once in Madrid, we had about an hour to change planes, which was juuuuuuuuust enough time to get to the domestic terminal, through outbound customs, and grab a cup of coffee without sweating.  

The flight from Madrid to London was the fanciest flight I’ve ever taken.  ‘Business class’ for this particular flight meant that we got first-class treatment, with lay-down beds and double-wide compartments.  It was the lap of luxury.  I only wish I had been sitting in it for a longer flight.  


Once we were in London, things started to get messy.  C/D are flying back to the states tomorrow, so they’re staying at an airport hotel.  We thought we’d grab food with them at the airport and then depart: them to their hotel, and us to Bristol.   We couldn’t find a restaurant on our side of security, so we ended up eating grab-n-go food at a coffee shop in Heathrow’s T5.  After, we each took cabs to our separate places while H wept at saying goodbyes.  (We also found out that B/A/O reached their destination safely, phew!)

The rental car agency was based at a Holiday Inn off-site, and by the time we got to the check-in, it was 7.15pm.  The agency closed at 7pm.  Yikes.  No rental car.   We tried calling the agency, but couldn’t get any response other than an automated voice message saying ‘please send us an email.’  Okay, plan B: can we stay at the Holiday Inn and drive to Bristol early tomorrow morning? Nope.   No room at the (Holiday) Inn.  Plan C:  can we rent a hotel room anywhere near the airport?  Nope.  No vacancies.  Plan D: can we crash in C/D’s hotel room?  Nope - they have a small room and a king bed.   No one would sleep well. Plan E ended up working: use Kayak to book a rental car with a known vendor with reasonable hours, then take a car to the pick-up point.  Plus, once we got in the car, our driver helped us figure out that the pick-up point we had been aiming at was back at Heathrow T5, which would have put us on ANOTHER shuttle bus. Instead, we figured out where the shuttle bus destination was and aimed there.  We gave him a five-star review and a hella tip for his help.  

Once at the new rental car agency, the agents were stunned that we had managed to book the reservation.  We managed to make what would have cost $1200 for about $400.  They got us set up and on the road pretty quick.   All in all, the set-back cost us about 40 GBP and about 30 minutes.  Not bad.

Once we got on the road (mantra: “drive on the left. drive on the left.  drive on the left.”), it was about two hours of uneventful driving to get to Bristol.  We arrived safe and sound and after we (me) hauled our bags to the top of a fifth floor walk-up (every day is leg day in Europe!), we got settled in and calmed down.  It was a full day of travel - 13 hours door-to-door, using cars, rail, planes, and feet, with moderate amounts of panic, but ultimate success.

I bought a can of beer at Heathrow to drink when we got to Bristol, and I enjoyed the hell out of when we got here.

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