The adventures of Jill and Lisa: Part 2 – International relations
Now any logical person would assume that getting out of the airport and to a well-known chain hotel is not a problem, right?
HA!
Let’s recap – when we last saw our heroines, Jill and Lisa, they were sitting in a cab outside the Madrid international airport, watching a lunatic taxi driver steal a woman’s luggage and toss it in the middle of the street, blocking any hope they had of expediently getting to their first destination – Hotel Atlantico in Madrid.
Our taxi driver jumped out of the car and waved his arms while barking something in Spanish to the crazy taxi driver. Meanwhile, the woman whose luggage had been held hostage yelled at the crazy man, “No. This is not for you. This is my luggage. I’m not getting in your cab!” Note: I am paraphrasing since I understand very little Spanish but I swear her arms flailing and facial expressions really did reflect this quote.) Then she yanked out her cell phone and began to call God-knows-who; possibly the international luggage hostage police.
Meanwhile, Jill – a bit annoyed – grabbed her handbag, ready to exit the taxi and said, “This Irish woman’s getting pissed.”
Now at this point, I am torn between jumping out of the cab and somehow getting our luggage back or hiding my head in my hands and curling into the fetal position and mumbling, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home,” while clicking imaginary ruby slippers.
Luckily, I didn’t have to turn to the ruby slippers for support. Instead, our taxi driver got back in the car and a police officer arrived and, rather slickly, lead the insane man away from the middle of the road so we could scoot past him and the luggage.
I guess the woman’s call to the international luggage hostage police worked.
Tune in next week (or sooner) for Part Three – What not to do when you want to eat in Madrid
HA!
Let’s recap – when we last saw our heroines, Jill and Lisa, they were sitting in a cab outside the Madrid international airport, watching a lunatic taxi driver steal a woman’s luggage and toss it in the middle of the street, blocking any hope they had of expediently getting to their first destination – Hotel Atlantico in Madrid.
Our taxi driver jumped out of the car and waved his arms while barking something in Spanish to the crazy taxi driver. Meanwhile, the woman whose luggage had been held hostage yelled at the crazy man, “No. This is not for you. This is my luggage. I’m not getting in your cab!” Note: I am paraphrasing since I understand very little Spanish but I swear her arms flailing and facial expressions really did reflect this quote.) Then she yanked out her cell phone and began to call God-knows-who; possibly the international luggage hostage police.
Meanwhile, Jill – a bit annoyed – grabbed her handbag, ready to exit the taxi and said, “This Irish woman’s getting pissed.”
Now at this point, I am torn between jumping out of the cab and somehow getting our luggage back or hiding my head in my hands and curling into the fetal position and mumbling, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home,” while clicking imaginary ruby slippers.
Luckily, I didn’t have to turn to the ruby slippers for support. Instead, our taxi driver got back in the car and a police officer arrived and, rather slickly, lead the insane man away from the middle of the road so we could scoot past him and the luggage.
I guess the woman’s call to the international luggage hostage police worked.
Tune in next week (or sooner) for Part Three – What not to do when you want to eat in Madrid







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