I’m so happy to have gotten into London yesterday evening, especially since I managed to get the last bus ticket from Madrid to London by complete chance. When my flight was cancelled on Monday, I spent the day trying to figure out different ways of getting back online. I tried to rebook my cancelled flight, but all the airlines were only giving me flights out for Wednesday the 28th. I couldn’t be in Madrid for another week and a half, so on Tuesday I spent most of the day at the main train station in Madrid. I literally wasted my time since every person I talked to essentially told me the same thing: 1) all overnight Madrid-Paris trains were booked for seven days 2) all trains to the coast city of Santander were also booked for at least five days 3) all ferries from the main Spanish ports were booked for at least four days and 4) I could attempt to get a train into southern France, but the French rail workers were on strike so I might be stuck there. I was pretty frustrated and depressed at this point since it looked like I would not be able to get out of Spain until next week (when my classes would’ve already started and I would’ve ran out of money).
On Wednesday, I decided to try the buses since on there were no buses available according to the receptionist at my hostel on Tuesday. I found an available bus to Paris on Wednesday night and was really excited and tried to book BUT my American Mastercard didn’t work online. At this point I was practically kicking myself for not having a Visa card. Anyway, I decide to get down to the bus station in person and try to pay in cash for the same Madrid-Paris bus. I get down to the station and head to the ALSA bus booth and the woman tells me there isn’t a Madrid-Paris bus available until Saturday despite the website showing a bus available for the Wednesday night. I decided to try my luck with the Eurolines booth. I go up the woman and ask her for Madrid-Paris and she tells me there isn’t anything available until Friday. At this point, I was so peeved that I was just going to buy the Friday ticket and wait two more days in Madrid. I told her that I ultimately need to get to London…not knowing that there are buses that go straight to London via a ferry from Calais, France into Dover, UK. She then excitedly told me that there was ONE ticket left going straight to London and that this was the last ticket until Monday; someone had cancelled last minute and returned their ticket to the booth. She said she was only accepting cash so I told her to hold onto my ticket while I got cash from the ATM. I got the cash, paid for the ticket, and literally kissed and hugged that ticket. I also wanted to break through the glass and give the woman a hug but I figured that would be overkill.
At this point it was 2pm and the bus was leaving at 4pm so I rushed back to my hostel, got dressed (since I ran to the bus station in sweatpants, looking completely out of place since no one wears sweats in public in Spain), and checked out. I got to the station by 3:20pm and as I was on the escalator getting to my bus terminal, I felt someone trying to pickpocket me. At this point, I was in complete disbelief that I was about to be pickpocketed on my way home, especially since I was always pretty vigilant throughout my two weeks of travel. Thankfully I caught the guy just as he was trying to unzip my bag; I was in such a good mood about getting the last ticket to London that I couldn’t care less about yelling at the guy, all I managed to do was give him a death stare in an attempt to embarrass him. I’m pretty sure it worked since we were on an escalator going up and he had nowhere to go. I’m also pretty sure if I were in a bad mood (aka not getting a ticket to London), that guy would’ve been kicked to the bottom of the escalator at this point. Anyway, I managed to get on the bus and I said a bunch of silent thank yous to God and to everyone who wished me luck…I think I was still in shock at the prospect of actually getting to London. I sat next to this sweet Scottish woman who gave me lots of food throughout the journey :) She told me that she got her ticket on Sunday morning after waiting for a few hours. I also talked to another woman from London who said she queued for NINE hours on Saturday to get her ticket. Again, I was thanking my lucky stars at this point. Our bus driver also was terrible (took the wrong turn leaving the MADRID bus station, missed our turn to Calais in France, and nearly made us miss our ferry) but it didn’t bother me at all. Like I said before, I was just ecstatic that I was getting back and nothing could kill my mood. Twenty-six hours later and I was in London and the weather was absolutely gorgeous and everything was blooming. It was definitely the perfect way to end my epic trip across the continent. Only in Europe, baby.
