The adventures of Jill and Lisa: Part 1 - And then there were two

Two American female tourists wandering the Madrid airport to be exact. We were both dragging wheeled luggage behind us, stacked with carry-on bags and praying that the next bump in the concrete would not break the wheels off the convenient, pull-along baggage.

Of course, we immediately needed a lavatory after an eight-hour flight from Philadelphia to Madrid that was relaxing for one (sitting next to a woman flying to Madrid for a wedding) and stressful for the other (sitting in the midst of Spanish teenagers returning home from a month in the United States). Luckily the universal sign for ladies room beaconed from across the baggage claim area.

After our brief affair with the bathroom, where we figured out the universal words for "oh that's disgusting" and "you want me to use what?"; we plunged into our next adventure - how to get out of the airport. Normally for two worldly, city women, this would not be a problem. But this was Madrid. And Madrid is not the friendliest location in terms of easily understood directions and signs.

Our options? After wading through the crowds and encircling the baggage claim area, we realized we could leave via one of two exits - the first was specifically for buses and the second was for everything else. I don't mean that the buses left the baggage claim area from that exit, but rather, that buses were awaiting passengers just outside that door.

Here's the conundrum - what kind of buses? You see, our hotel offered a shuttle and in some regions a shuttle and a bus are equivalent. After peering through the bus friendly door we concluded that this was specifically intended for tour buses, not hotel shuttles.

So we picked Exit B - everything else. Do you remember the black and white video clips of the Beatles first arrival in the U.S.? Take that image, put it in color, add some dogs and children, and update the clothing. This gives you a good idea of the mob waiting on the other side of Exit B. This was the last greeting I was expecting, so I stood with my mouth agape, staring back at them. With the gentle nudging (and slight cursing) of my cohort in European travels, Jill, I closed my jaw and continued to trek my belongings out of the reach of the screaming and crying and toward the taxi area.

After we debated about where we should hail a taxi, a generous and friendly taxi driver took our oversized and under wheeled, overstuffed luggage and jammed them into his trunk.

As we tried to speed off to our hotel (since the shuttle wouldn't arrive for another two hours and the last thing we wanted to do was hang out in an airport) an infuriated taxi driver "borrowed" another woman's bags and laid them before our taxi, blocking our path.

What happened next? You'll have to check out the blog in a few days to find out. I love a good cliffhanger.