When we last spoke, I only mentioned how I had a difficult day of travel... Now I will explain why.

I decided, since Allison was going to be busy with school, that I should do a little traveling by myself for a couple of days. She would be taking a school sponsored trip to San Sebastian, and I could simply meet her there in 4 days. In the meanwhile, I figured I could maybe learn how to surf.

The day begins at 6:30 in the morning, at which time I awoke and rapidly made my way to the train station. Without breakfast, or for that matter even brushing my teeth, I was on my 7:00 AM train and headed west. So far, so good.

I ordered a tortilla con queso on the train, and soon found out that the spanish have an entirely different idea of what constitutes a tortilla. There was definately cheese, but where I expected a flat, circular, flour consistency treat, I received an egg like, sponge consistency meal. This seems to be one aspect of traveling, eating food that for some reason or another, isn´t exactly what you had in mind.

Several hours later, 6 to be accurate, I got off the train, grabbed some bread, and quickly boarded my next train. Here is when the day really starts to go downhill...

On the first train, the conductor had written on my eurail pass. Unfortunately, the manner in which this train conductor did so, made my pass look as if I was trying to cheat. This ultimately resulted in the next train conductor, who I might suggest was kinda an asshole (excuse me), telling me that my pass was "no valido" among other things in spanish that I could not understand. I tried my hardest to communicate with the guy, using words like escribier (to write), or esta valido (it is valid), but that was about the extent of my conversation with the guy.

Angrily, he said passport. I showed him my passport. Then, he tried to take my passport and eurail pass, an action, which I was not going to allow. The Eurail cost 700$, and I would go kicking and screaming if anybody took that away from me. The passport was my ticket back to the US, something that is worth more than money. I grabbed the pass and my passport back, and action which regrettably, he did not seem to agree with. He walked angrily away from me, and hit a button near the ceiling of the train.

So, let me tell you, the brakes on trains are good. The train stopped so fast that I went flying and luckily landed in a seat, and not some other passenger´s lap. I was being kicked out of the train, and not even at a train station. I had to make the 4 foot jump from the train down to the tracks.

So here I am, in the middle of Northern Spain, walking to the nearest train station. I was hungry, tired, and pissed off. Frustratingly, what poor lunch I was having, the bread, was left on the train in all of the commotion.

The train station I found myself at was disserted. Nobody worked there, the doors were locked, the clock on the outside of the train station looked as if somebody had thrown a rock through it, and obviously didn´t work. Luckily, the one thing this station did have, was a timetable. Unfrotunately, the one thing I didn´t have, was a watch.

After fully looking over the time table, I found that about 4 trains a day stopped at this train stration. I sat in front of this train station for an hour and a half waiting for 1 of the 2 remaining trains scheduled that day. Eventually a 16 year old girl arrived, and in broken spanish I found out that this town had 3,000 people, and was mainly a farm town. I looked around, and I saw only but a couple of houses. From where I was, it seemed as if it were a ghost town.

Time passes, and eventually a train arrives. I had no choice, I was going to Pamplona. 1.5 hours later on a train, which luckily, I didn´t get my pass checked on, I arrived. Now I had some decision making to do, so I checked availability for trains going to San Sebastian (full), and then I checked trains going back to Barcelona (full). It looked as if I had no choice, I was staying in Pamplona. Now, if you are ever planning on going to Pamplona, don´t. The town really isn´t that impressive, and their only draw is the running of the bulls.

During their 15 day festival, which I was so lucky to arrive at, prices apparently are jacked up 300% and availability is scarce. I quickly realized this, and was facing a serious problem, I didn´t really have a place to sleep. After some quick investigation work, I found a bus station, and caught a bus up to San Sebastian.

Another 1.5 hours later... So now I´m exhausted and hungry in San Sebastian. Even worse, the weather is ugly, and I find out that there are no campgrounds anywhere near the city and hostels are full. The campground I was planning on staying at was closer to France, and I obviously hadn´t made it quite that far.

After a couple of quick talks, one with my mom, and one with Allison, I just gave up. I booked another bus from San Sebastian to Barcelona, a 7 hour bus ride that leaves the bus station at midnight.

So there you have it, I spent the night on a crowded bus, with my hat pulled over my eyes, and arms crossed so that I wouldn´t be touching the person to the left of me. I had my bag tied around my feet, with my passport and credit cards in it. After maybe 3 hours of sleep, I arrived in Barcelona. 24 hours of traveling, and I ended up exactly where I departed from.

So there was my day. As you might imagine, this took a little bit of wind out of my sails. Since then, I have been reading, relaxing, and taking full advantage of the cheap internet to organize my life.

Moral of the story? I´m still trying to figure that one out...