Two phone calls*.

It's the usual Friday here in Wienerland,  with the exception that Travelling Companion is in Serbia.
 Friday's usually involve a certain amount of mucking about with the changing of the sheets, (done)  perhaps some dry cleaning to pick-up (done)  along with the usual grocery shop,  which today included a trip to the Naschmarkt to pick up some salmon for dinner.
 (done and done)
  Even filled up the car and got it washed.  Checked the oil and everything.  It's a diesel,  they tend to use a bit of oil.   This I know.


 In amongst this came the first phone call.   "I'm at the gate".

This is good,  since then I can do the mental countdown and know that I can leave at a certain time for the retrieval from the airport.  In this case around 6:00 p.m.

 Then came the second phone call.   (never a good sign)   "The flight has been cancelled".


 Wait a minute.   Wasn't the last piece of info "I'm at the gate"?
 
 Do I need to drive to Belgrade?   Cr*p!  I hope not.   It's seven freakin' hours!   I could get there by midnight I suppose.
 Hm....driving through Hungary and then into Serbia after dark.   Not sure about that.

I'm still of the opinion they need one of these......

 But hey,  what do I know?   Maybe there's some other mystery airline that flies from Belgrade to Vienna?


Stay tuned.






*Make that three.   Just an hour's delay is all.



*Wait. Make that four.

And now for the quote of the day:

"We're getting on the oldest plane I've ever seen in my life".




Swell.







.

The power of the Schwarz.

Sorry.   Can't help myself.


Travelling Companion came home with this bag yesterday after work,  containing a tiny bottle of water,  along with some political cr*p,  and I just find it hilarious.
 This was being handed out on the Gürtel on her way to work.  Most of the time it's a free newspaper.  As long as they're not looking for a handout,  like in Puerto Rico,  then it's all good.
It seems one of their main opponents is represented by red or something or other,  and they figure that black is the way to go.   It's the ÖVP,  which is the Austrian People's Party.   Not sure of their particular take on things, and you're certainly welcome to read the bla bla if you click the link.   Right wing nut jobs I'm thinking.   OK,  maybe just right wing.  The only bit of info they had in their little bag of tricks was basically a heavy handed view of all the road construction that went on in the city over the summer.
Huh?
Not sure of any city on the planet that doesn't have some construction in the summer,  and when there's an economic belt tightening,  it's quite common for governments to spend money they don't have on infrastructure.
Apparently we're once again due for some more elections.  I swear they vote on something or other just about every year around here.   


Other than that I got nothin'.


Took Travelling Companion to the airport this morning at some ungodly hour.   I seem to recall waking up at around 4:20 and lying there waiting for the alarm to go off ten minutes later.  Her flight to Serbia was at 6:50.

Groan.

 (I'm surprised I'm still awake)


 I guess if we were on the ball on one of these occasions we could put in a call to British Colombia or some such thing.  It would have been what?  7:30 or so last night there?  Timing those types of phone calls can be a challenge.

Not very chatty at that time of the morning however.

 This is how I (unfortunately)  spend a certain amount of my time.
  Getting ready for more guests.

 I had this notion to turn this bed completely around from the way it was,  but when I got about half way,  I had this idea to simply shove it against the wall,  since only one person is going to be using this one on this occasion.   After that,  we're done with guests for the foreseeable future.   Our flight for the trip home is already booked in December, and that will be the first time in many a month that we'll get to see any "kin folk".




May the Schwarz be with you.







.

Off to Spain!

OK I'll admit,  that sounds pretty damned pretentious,  but I never in my life would have thought I'd ever say such a thing. 
So just cut me a little slack.
 The thing is,  Travelling Companion had to be in Bilbao,  Spain at some point to do some sort of financial thing-ma-bob,  and we figured we'd go together and make a weekend of it.
I have photographic proof.  Well,  I suppose if you've been following along up to this point,  you'd realise I don't exactly make this stuff up.
  

 As you well know,  in spite of her having flown off to such exotic locations as Serbia and Romania,  I've been quite content to be left behind *sniff*,  so this was my turn to go along for the ride.
And if you don't recognise my particular brand of sarcasm by now,  you need to turn off your computer.

 Fortunately for us,  since we both have learned over the years how to travel "light",  we didn't have to check any luggage on the way,  since it turns out this mob scene in front of the terminal was all about checking in luggage.
It didn't take too long to determine that we didn't need to be there,  and we headed for the gate.





One of the slight disadvantages of not booking ones own ticket (this was a business trip after all)  is that there are sometimes these little surprises that come to light along the way.  The first leg of our flight over to Bilbao was on Fly Niki.
I'm not going to get into just who Niki Lauda is,  but flyniki is a discount airline based here in Austria that is only ever so slightly better than one such as Ryanair.

Can't say I would recommend Fly Niki all that much. Unless of course you're about five feet tall and weigh about 90 pounds, since any average sized person is going to find it very cramped.  Very cramped.
 Did I say very cramped?
 Thankfully,  we were on an Airbus A something or other,  and there was proper ventilation.  That made it at least bearable.  Plus they fire a sandwich in your general direction at some point along the way.  I thought I'd have to pay,  and even had some money out,  'cause I was getting a tad hungry,  but it was free.

 That came as a surprise.

 Now,  the other thing that happens with the discount airlines,  apart from that mob scene above,  since all the discount airlines get relegated to another terminal,   is that you also have the pleasure of being herded out to the tarmac on the big white bus.  Sorry,  no jet way for you!
I should admit that the "good news" about that part of the deal is that they then at least open up the rear doors of the plane and anyone who is sitting at the back then gets on by way of the back stairway.   We were back in the 20s somewhere.

First leg of the journey was to La Palma,  Mallorca.  

That was one of our first glimpses of Mallorca.







La Palma reminded my a bit of Puerto Rico,  except that it was pretty evident that a large portion of their economy was due to the flow of tourists that head there.
Nice roads,  buildings etc.

You'll also notice by the colour of that paint on the plane there,  that the second leg of the journey was with Air Berlin.
I had always thought of Air Berlin as being a discount airline,  so I was surprised that there was a good inch and half of extra leg room!   We were as giddy as school kids!  I was actually comfortable!

No food though.

Sorry.

Bilbao is situated in a valley in what might be considered the foothills of the Pyrenees
(and I know the geography "experts"  are going to disagree with me),  and they've had to put the airport over in the next  valley,   but thankfully all the roads in the area are of the modern four lane type,  with a handy dandy tunnel to get you into town.     I did take a drive on Monday on what would have been the "old way" to get from the airport to Bilbao,  and that was interesting to say the least. 
Gearing down and copious braking.  That's all I'm going to say.

We were still a few miles out on our descent at this point.

Did the touristy thing on Sunday,  with a visit to the Guggenheim,









  and then on out to check out the Viscaya Bridge.






 I'm putting in all these links just to cut down on my own verbal diarrhoea,  so you can go off and read to your hearts content.


No problems to speak of.   Rented a little BMW of some sort,  which was adequate.  Also helps to be able to drive standard,  and be able to start on a hill.   Many hills.
 The only slight annoyance that I had was trying to get to the underground parking for the hotel,  which due to the one way streets was just about impossible,  so I'd simply end up double parking and bringing the key to one of the folks at the desk.  There was no expectation that any foreigner to Bilbao would be able to master that one,  and I wasn't willing to put in the training.
 The only other issue that I could possibly mention would be one of language.   I don't mean Spanish.   It comes back.  Road signs and all that basic stuff are a piece of cake after a year in Puerto Rico.   I'm talking about the other "official"  language,  Basque. 

Huh?

I foolishly thought it went back to some sort of Arabic root,  but it turns out that even the experts don't really know where the heck this language comes from.   So,  road signs are in Spanish,  Basque,  and then maybe English.    Too much information!    It took considerable practise for me to read a sign and be able to ignore the Basque,  since if I didn't,  then no information got processed in my pea brain at all.  
Thankfully one of the pleasant surprises was that whoever booked the car,  thought to reserve a GPS.   Nice touch,  and greatly appreciated,  trust me.

Time isn't on my side at the moment,  so I'll stop boring you now.   Have to go get dinner ready.  

Always nice to be "back home".