Barcelona, Spain


A Near-Sprain, Getting to Spain
a.k.a. workplace to gate in less than 35 minutes

20/09/2002, 09:00
Kerkstraat 83 bg+1e - Amsterdam, Netherlands
I planned ahead. I packed everything a day before, and so after checking and double-checking, I left my apartment with my laptop bag, backpack, and duffle-bag suitcase with full confidence in my preparations for my first business trip within Europe. Of course, that confidence waned a bit when I realized I hadn't packed any white socks. Of course, that means I did remember halfway to the tram, which is much better than halfway to Spain.

So anyway, my plans are to take Iberia Airlines flight 4263 to Barcelona this evening (Friday) at 19:15. Monday through Wednesday the European Sourcing Council will be held in Barcelona with, among other people, the CIO of General Electric and a new Vice President of GE in charge of Operations. To prepare for the meeting, I've got to finish up gathering all the presentations from the different businesses regarding their plans both on the purchasing and digitization side of sourcing. Of course, with several weeks advance notice they all come in at the last minute, and there are quite a few other things to attend to, making me work at a hectic pace as the early evening approaches.

My original, and very cheap, plan was to take the number 25 tram up to Centraal Station then take the nice #1000 train out to Schiphol Airport for a total of 2.90 euro. Quite the bargain compared to a taxi.

20/09/2002, 18:15
Rivierstaete, Amsteldijk 166 - Amsterdam, Netherlands
However, as I keep putting my departure time off due to incoming presentations and other items to be attended to, I realize this might not be possible. So, Tom, my co-worker, calls a Taxi for my around 6:05 pm. Luckily in the Netherlands, one usually calls a Taxi, they aren't usually just hailed on the street (they do wait around Hotels though). So, when I make it down to the lobby, the Taxi is already there.

This is at least one good element in a rather bleak picture. I'm in a new country, much less a new town, I'm trying to make it to a major International airport during "rush hour" (I don't quite know if they have this in Amsterdam, since most people seem to go by bike, but regardless the airport is a bit outside the city) with less than an hour to go...on a Friday. Well, at least I don't have anyone to tell me that due to increased security I should show up to the airport two hours ahead of time...somehow I think that rule might not only apply in the US though. Luckily, I think that my Taxi driver either really lucked out, or there was a Taxi lane for the highway to the airport. I say this, because while everyone to our left was in a standstill for a few miles, the Taxi zoomed right along in fairly clear lanes to the right.

20/09/2002, 18:28
Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
That was a really quick trip! I think it deserves a tip, so I end up paying 35 euros on a roughly 30 euro bill (I need all the good karma I can get). After getting inside, my next task is to actually get the ticket. Did I mention that I needed to also pick up the ticket from the Carlson Wagonlit Desk...a place I've never seen before. I did get directions to this from Tom, but I think they got lost somewhere in the worrying about not getting to the plane in time.

Anyway, I know what a friendly country The Netherlands is, so I seek out the Information Desk. Luckily, I get there just as the lady is locking the place up (this is a theme in the Netherlands...never open a business when people might actually find it convenient to visit). No matter, I politely ask her to point the way to the Carlson Wagonlit Desk, and she does quite quickly. So, off I am towards the Carlson Wagonlit Desk. 20/09/2002, 18:32
Carlson Wagonlit Travel Desk, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
A short walk later and I'm waiting to be helped at the Carlson Wagonlit Desk, where they quickly produce my ticket and such. I take these happily and verify the location of the check-in area for Iberia airlines and head off in a new direction.

20/09/2002, 18:35
Iberia Airlines Check-In, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
After walking a bit, I check in my one bag and get my boarding pass, now time to make it through security and to B12, wherever that might be (vitamin land people, vitamin land).

20/09/2002, 18:43
Security Area, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
There is a line for security, but it doesn't take too long, and before you know it I've cleared the change cups, beeping metal detectors, and xray machines. Of course, at this point I do realize that I have my pocketknife with me. Now, normally I would comply with guidelines and offer this small token of my being up to the greater airline good. However, I've already lost one pocketknife earlier this year and I don't intend on losing another. I decide to keep it in my pocket and see if it gets caught. Whew, lucky me, the pocketknife lives another day (gotta remember to put that in luggage next time).

20/09/2002, 18:45
Concourse B, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
A few deft moves here and there and I've negotiated crowds around the duty-free shops to Concourse B, now to make it to the gates, more specifically B12.

20/09/2002, 18:48
Gate B12, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
I could have done this one faster, but it is quite a distance to Gate B12, and there was a couple with a baby in front of me on the conveyor-belt people-mover thing. Anyway, I've finally arrived at my gate, all is well.

20/09/2002, 18:59
Waiting to wait in line to board Iberia 4263 at Gate B12, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
Wouldn't you know it, I now get to stand in line for all that hurrying. There's a big "queue" as they would call it here (ok, so they would call it a "in de rij gaan staan" which means "in the row to stand/be"). So, I bask in my speedy trip thus far and wait to be allowed into the waiting area where I can later board the plane to wait to take off so I can await my arrival in another airport (does anyone else feel like a rat in a maze?).

20/09/2002, 19:15
Walking down towards the airplane that is supposed to be taking off already, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
Ok, so the plane was a bit slow in getting ready for us passengers, I can sympathize, so when we get to begin the boarding process at 19:15, I'm not too upset. In fact, I was calculating how much later I could have left and still made this flight!

20/09/2002, 19:30
Pushing off from Gate B12 on Iberia Flight 4263, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
Of course, some people are slower than others when it comes to getting on the plane, and after checking things more than twice, the plane pushes off from my beloved Gate B12 (I have a rather deficient feeling at this point in my journey) at 19:30.

20/09/2002, 19:40
Taking off on Iberia Flight 4263, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
And, after a taxi of another kind, we're up in the air!

20/09/2002, 21:20
Arriving at Barcelona Airport on Iberia Flight 4263 - Barcelona, Spain
The flight, while not the best I've ever had is just fine. The major conflict of the ride is being defeated by the little butter package, which I SWEAR didn't have an opening to pull the cover off the top. Therefore, I resign myself to be without butter. Of course, then I try the roll without it, and employ even my weakling plastic knife to cut open the top of the butter packet. The drama of travel...

20/09/2002, 22:30
Leaving the Barcelona Airport - Barcelona, Spain
I was supposed to meet up with Nate Hoening, another IMLP who is also on assignment with the same Corporate Initiatives Group (with the sales improvement (eg digitize proceses, give them better tools, examine workflow etc)) flying in from Paris. However, he missed his flight, which I only learned later. So, after waiting around a bit (since it did take a while to get my luggage and such and walk over to the other arrival area for Air France) I gave up on him and got a Taxi to the hotel.

This was rather fun though, because I got to practice my Spanish with the Taxi driver. Even they speak Catalun (French and Spanish) in Barcelona, they know Spanish, so it was actually a very useful place for my three years of Spanish in from High School and below. In fact, it came in useful several times throughout the trip. It's amazing how many words you can translate and how few you can say when you put your mind to it. So basically I looked like a total idiot who knew some things...which is a step better than in Holland, but then again I'd say people have a MUCH better grasp of the English language on average in Amsterdam.

25/09/2002, 22:22
Arriving back on Iberia Flight 4266, Schiphol Airport - just outside Amsterdam, Netherlands
Waiting for the plane and getting on wasn't too interesting in Barcelona. Of course, once I got on the flight, I was seated directly across from a group of college guys who obviously hung out in one of the bars in the Barcelona Airport prior to boarding the plane. One of them literally didn't shut up for the ENTIRE flight. You know how there are those times during the flight, even a short one like this, when most people are quiet, or at least a bit reserved? Not these guys, talking LOUDLY and laughing it up the ENTIRE way...not the best environment for sleep, but at least I had a window seat this time. Anyway, after we landed and were taxi-ing, I noticed that the lady behind me (whose kid enjoyed torturing me during the flight by suddenly attacking the back of my chair just as I was entering the restful state of sleep, making me wonder if the plane had crashed yet, or if the engine had just dropped off in midair) -- anyway this lady was singing some very dutch-sounding lullaby to her child. I thought, "Now this is the meaning of being in another country, being part of the intimate experience of a lullaby handed down from generation to generation with meanings unique to the cultural sphere of Holland." Of course all this evaporated when she reached the part of the melody that was Camptown Races....maybe it's me, but I don't think those Camptown Ladies were Dutch. Yet another lost cultural experience...damn American influence...bring back the clogs!