Portugal to Madrid

The time had come for me to return to Spain.  While traveling overnight makes for efficient travel, sight seeing wise it’s regretful as you miss seeing parts of countries you’ll likely never travel.  Unless, that is, you’re traveling in Europe.

Sleep on the train returning from Portugal was comparatively much easier for me than the trip there.  I wasn’t quite sure when I awoke if that was due to “knowing” what to expect or if I was just exhausted from walking up every hill in Lisbon. 

When I woke up a little before 8am, with only 1.5 hours left on our journey, I decided to seize this opportunity to experience the scenery as it passed by.  Not thinking much about it, when I stepped outside the car to walk to the WC, the train was stopped.  Peculiar but I think nothing of it and continue on my preparation to leave. 

It’s not until a little while later as I’m quietly lugging all of my stuff out of the room that an American girl approaches asking “do you speak English”.   I do, why; what’s going on?  It seems, she says, that we’re 3.5 hours out from Madrid and did I have any idea if that was right or what happened.  I laugh because I’m not sure if this is the case but I say I doubt it, as these trains are typically punctual. 

Ah – welcome to Europe.  It seems that the reason for my restful evening is a result of our train not moving for about 3-4 hours during the night; a result of a strike by the workers of the high speed train system in Madrid.  Fortunately not pressed for anything particular in Madrid (I was just going to site see), I found laughing the most appropriate response when she told of having a connecting flight to catch at 10am.  Sorry, friend but you’re not going to make it.  She was at least resilient enough to realize she’d eventually get home. 

While lacking the customary flare of travel stories I typically have, I now find myself enjoying the countryside as it wizzes by our now moving train.  All 3.5 hours of it.