Something about Sundays… we’re always having the craziest adventures! Today was no exception. This weekend we’re in Sevilla, which hasn’t happened for a few weeks and won’t happen again for a while either. So Michelle and I got up this morning excited to go to church. Well, we had some problems. Sounding familiar? Oh yes.
We started at a little before 10 am as usual, heading out to our normal bus stop to catch bus #20. The #20 and one more bus would take us to the big bus station where we ride a “suburb” bus to Bormujos (where church is). We knew something was different when we saw the police directing traffic on our street. As we approached we asked a guy if the buses could still come through and he seemed to think so, so we waited for a while. No bus. Meanwhile we realized what all the commotion was about: a marathon! We’d seen signs about it for a few weeks but hadn’t noted the date and never thought the route would pass by our house. After a while we walked to another nearby stop on a major street, but still no buses. We even tried to call a taxi and some guy flagged it down before us. As we stood there, stuck, we watched more and more and MORE runners come down the street. This race was a BIG deal—hundreds of runners from all over the world! Finally a bus came and we got a little closer to our destination. We tried to catch our next bus but had to get off after about 30 yards because the route was blocked off again. After walking about 2 miles we found a smaller bus that took us where we needed to go and tried to relax.
Just for some perspective as to how badly our plans had failed so far: we needed to be at the bus station at 11 am to catch our “suburb” bus. (They leave on the hour.) It was 11:20 when we got on the little bus! Oops.
Ok, back to the story. We arrived at Plaza de Armas bus station at 11:45, now planning to catch the noon bus out of town. We waited around a little, then realized that everyone else had a little ticket and wasn’t paying with cash. We dashed back upstairs to the counter to buy tickets, but the lady told us they were done selling noon tickets. Crap!! As a last ditch effort we tried the lady in the next window, and she sold us the tickets we wanted! We sprinted back to the bus and yelled at the driver to wait. Sitting down on that bus was one of life’s little victories, for sure.
After that the day was smooth sailing—church (we only missed the singing!), fellowship, a delicious lunch with the Actons, and bus back home.
Loving a place for it’s lovely sights and smells is one thing, but Michelle and I have passed a threshold today. We felt as if Sevilla was doing everything possible to mess up our plans, but we love this place unconditionally. We are Sevillanas!
2 comments:
wGreat story! Perhaps these sorts of issues are why Spainards are the most prompt?! They just expect everything to take longer than it should.
Your story reminds me of one Sunday in London when I was trying to catch the bus. The street was TOTALLY empty of cars and people. I had to walk a mile to another street to catch another bus. Later I learned that there had been a horrible car crash 5 hours earlier and the police were still investigating.
correction: *why Spainards are not the most prompt.
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