Once back from the Thyssen, American Airlines informed me that it was time to check in for our Friday flight. I clicked on the link in the email, and it said, “You are on an unsecured network, someone might be trying to steal your information.” Okay, well yeah, I was using the apartment Wi-Fi and they were probably correct to warn me about the risk, so I closed my browser and fired up my VPN.

Once connected to a tunnel in New York, I tried again, “You are on an unsecured network, someone might be trying to steal your information” was the reply. Fine, I’ll use the app on my phone and just ignore this out-of-date computer technology.

The phone wasn’t feeling as sensitive and it allowed me to bring up the trip, answer the questions, and check-in for the Madrid to Dallas leg. Curiously, the segment from Dallas to Albuquerque was missing. “Odd,” I thought because I sure as heck booked the whole package back on February 3rd. I even had the flight number and the seat assignments in my trip spreadsheet (don’t laugh at me.) I took a look at the email I’d received when I made the reservations and it showed the leg which is where I got the info in the spreadsheet. Then I looked at the confirmation email I’d received on the 5th and sure enough it only showed Madrid to Dallas.

That got me thinking. When I put a trip together, the first thing I do is book the flights because if you can’t get there, what’s the point of reserving apartments? Once I have the plane locked down, I “freeze” the details for 24 hours which allows me to do the rest of the reservations before committing to the really expensive part. Once we have the rooms, I go back and pay for the planes.

Well, when I put this journey together and tried to pay for the flights the next day, the website wouldn’t let me do so. What entailed was a long time on the phone with the airline trying to figure it out. As it turned out, the final Albuquerque leg had been re-scheduled while it was on hold, and that change blew the whole thing up. But the agent made it right, I paid, and thought we were good. But weirdly, the price had gone down by $21 overnight. I didn’t think much of that at the time, but you see where this is going, right? Remember that amount, because you’re going to see it again.

Having an idea of what happened, that dreaded cold fear set in that comes with unplanned disruptions to well-planned travel. Maybe not as bad as the time I had to sit in the Beijing airport for 7 hours with my former boss because the jet had swallowed a goose, but bad enough. So I looked up the number and called American and only had to fight with the menu-bot for 5 minutes before he finally said, “I’ll connect you to someone who can help you.”

The agent came on the line and I explained the situation. She listened to the story and told me that there were still seats available and that she would put me on hold while she talked to ticketing. When she came back, she said she could see what happened, that “They hadn’t ticketed the whole trip.” She also said it was “Looking like $360 per person to make the change.”

“What change?” I asked, I booked the trip on the 3rd and received an email laying it out. She replied, “Yes, but you didn’t pay for it until the 4th and the confirmation email on the 5th clearly shows you have no booking.”

We went back and forth on that one for a bit given that I’d received a quote, paid for that quote and did my part. I also told her I had Business Class tickets (thank you frequent flyer miles) and was assuming there were none of those seats left. “Sure there are,” she said. “There are 4, let me go back to ticketing.”

A few minutes later she came back on and said she’d reserved two Business Class seats and that the charge for the schedule change was $21. Problem solved, she closed with “This is a lesson for you, always check your confirmation email in case something is wrong.” In other words, check to make sure they did the job you paid for.

The problem was solved, we grabbed our coats and went out for the final meal of the trip. When we’d eaten at El Madroño on Easter Night we’d told them we’d come back because what better meal to close out a series of great meals than Delicias de Bacalao?

We thought about sitting outside but as if often the case, the outside tables were almost entirely taken up by smokers. So we went inside and dined alone. I used to feel awkward doing this, but I’ve gotten over it, if you want dinner, and you don’t want it in a cloud of second-hand smoke, that’s the only option. We ordered our food and asked specifically if he would bring them at the same time.

That’s one of the weird things about eating tapas, they usually come in some sequence that’s determined by the kitchen. Sometimes it’s not a big deal, sometimes it is. For example, when you’re only getting two dishes, like the previous dinner when the fish came and the mushrooms arrived a half-hour later. Tonight we again ordered the Delicias and a plate of grilled vegetables. And that’s a second thing about tapas – over the years most of our tapas dinners have been meat and fish-centric because usually there were no other options aside from fried potatoes. Grilled vegetables started appearing on menus and we had them three times, or we’d ordered fresh tomatoes with oil and tuna belly. It’s nice to be able to at least try to eat a balanced meal.

As expected the meal was great and after paying we left, taking a moment to tell the waiter from Easter “Hasta el proximo año,” “Until next year.” He laughed, and said “De Seguro.”

This morning we got up and packed and decided that it might be better to spend that extra half-hour sitting around the airport instead of sitting in the apartment watching CNN Fast re-runs. In the past, we’d had to go find a taxi stand, but with the changes to Calle Mayor over the years, there was now a taxi stand right out in front of our apartment. The careful planner that I am, I’d counted them every day from the balcony, and the supply ran between 7 and 15. On the morning we needed one, there were 2, and one of them was making moves to leave. But all you need is one willing to go to the airport and the first guy in line was.

We’ve had some really great conversations with cabbies on this trip, covering everything from US politics to motorcycle rallies on the riverbank in Porto. This guy was no different, we talked about the student population. La Vuelta D ‘España, the cost of apartments, and the sad trend of entire groups of people sitting at restaurant tables playing with their phones instead of talking. The morning traffic was typical and it only added an extra 10 minutes to the journey. A few years ago, they set the fare from anywhere in Madrid to Barajas to 33€, no doubt to stop tourists being gouged by unscrupulous drivers. Depending on the driver, I give them 40 and tell them to keep the change. Apparently, I’m the only person doing this because first they look stunned, then they look happy, then they shake both of our hands and leave grinning from ear to ear. If they’ve tolerated our butchered Spanish, I always thank them for the conversation.

The decision to leave a bit early paid off as they had changed the process a bit at the international terminal. Normally we arrive and depart from Terminal 4, but this time we were scheduled to go out of T4S, something I’d not seen before. We checked in, followed the signs through Fast Track security (where my knee set off the metal detector again, resulting in a pat down that included the inside of the waistband on my pants,) and followed the signs for T4S. One of the things they do in good airports is tell you how much time it will take you to get where you’re going, and in this case, it was 22 minutes. More than a bit of a surprise. As it turned out, that time was due to the underground train ride we didn’t expect to take. The boarding for that trip was worse than the Tokyo Metro, with too many people trying to squeeze in without the attendants to push them in so the doors could close. Of course, there was “that guy” who had to get on the train (never mind that they come every 5 minutes) who got himself wedged in the door that wouldn’t close until he crushed the tiny woman next to me into my right arm.

As it turned out, despite the extra stuff we still had time for a coffee and a pastry before heading to our gate, and the ride home. And now here we are, above the mighty Atlantic just southwest of Nanortalik, Greenland.