Bit dented when I staggered up to join the posse in the lobby and joined what turned out to be the first of the many queues I would stand in during the course of the day. I am traveling with the crew party for the next little while and flying commercial with a group this large is always bound to be a bit of a cattle call. The first queue was to check out of the hotel - imagine 65 people all trying to do this at the same time, with just two Belgians behind the counter. In line also were the "LimboGroup" girls, complaining heartily about the pre-show music, so I promised faithfully to have a word with the powers that be. "Lionel Ritchie?" they were going. "It wasn't Lionel Ritchie, it was the Commodores", I thought, but the moment had passed.
The next queue was at check in for the Iberia flight to Barcelona, again imagine the hundred checked bags involved here. On for an overdue spot of brekkie at the airport cafeteria which was packed to the point of lunacy featuring a commendably enormous queue of diners carrying trays, pushing trolleys & wrestling children. From above it must have looked like Picasso's 'Guernica'.
Other queues of the day included the line at the gate, baggage reclaim and finally hotel check in, before finally we could savour our reward - an evening off in Barcelona. I always tell people that "traveling is the best and the worst part of what I do & places like this are definitely the 'best' part. A few of us headed out and took what Spain does best - warm night, outdoor cafe, tapas, drinks, talking nonsense till all hours, some of our tour truck drivers stumbling by, all well with the world.