In the darkness of my sleep, I sense I am falling hundreds if not thousands of feet per second. Nevertheless, I have little fear as my subconscious mind tells me I am in for a wonderful surprise.
Hours ago, somewhere over the North Atlantic dinner was served. A night cap with a guy named Jack and a girl named Ginger (Jack Daniels and Canada Dry Ginger Ale) and I vaguely remember reclining seat.
Now I am taking in a view of Spain from thousands of feet up in the air. The skies above are clear and blue accented only by an occasional whisper cloud. The air below is also clear and gives a great view of the Spanish landscape.
Arriving in Madrid like most European airports the immigration and custom procedures are how they should be at most airports. Most travelers are just that, travelers. Not everyone needs to be treated like a suspect.
Some countries especially the one that starts with the letter “U” needs to take note.
As promised, my car is ready. Sixt runs a nice operation in Madrid.
Capitalizing on “The Spirit Of Mobility”, I start asking questions. Que via a Pamplona? Which way to Pamplona? You mean San Fermin? Si, si.
Leaving or arriving at a foreign airport can always be a challenge however exiting the Madrid Airport is a breeze.
A1 soon follows open country with rolling hills and distant mountains.