Wrong Train, Wrong Bus, Wrong City

One year ago today I was in Spain exploring the lively lifestyle that is Sunny Spain.

I had spent five days in Barcelona and had booked a train to Malaga months ago, thinking I would end up in Malaga, possibly permanently.

Plans changed.

I decided I wanted to experience the joys of sunny and happy Seville.

I booked an onward train and went about my merry way. I made it to Malaga with a two-hour stopover — just in time for a lovely vegetarian lunch at a Turkish restaurant.

I returned to the train station and showed the train bouncer my ticket. The one I had spent a couple hundred dollars on only a few days ago.

The bouncer looked at my ticket and said “No, that won’t work, that ticket is for next month.”

What!?

I couldn’t believe I had made such a careless mistake — alright, I could believe I had made such a careless mistake but I was still shocked!

I was told the only way to get on the train was to buy another ticket. I went online to the ticket website and discovered…

Every ticket was sold out.

I didn’t know what to do, I asked the kind Spanish bouncer what to do and he suggested I try the buses. He pointed me in the direction and I went about my merry way.

I arrived to the ticket booth a little stressed and tired from walking a lot further than I had anticipated. I found a timetable of buses but couldn’t understand the Spanish, I asked the lady in the ticket booth:

“Tu habla ingles?” Do you speak English?

“A little.” She said as she proceeded to speak fluent English.

I explained where I wanted to go and she managed to squeeze me on a bus arriving in an hour.

I was eternally grateful.

Worst case scenario I would have to find a place to stay in Malaga and explore the city for up to a month — it took me a hot minute to realise that wouldn’t have been a bad option at all.

“Parking Space Two.” The lady said and I ran off.

I made it to the parking space and waited with a few other people. I waited ten minutes before I thought to ask if this was indeed the correct bus stop — the numbers were not clear but this was the only one with people waiting.

I asked and the people there were waiting to go somewhere different.

I walked on.

In a panic now.

I went round and round and round the bus stop.

Eventually I asked someone if they knew where number 2 was, they replied saying they needed number 2 also and hoped they were standing at the correct bus stop.

I waited there.

A bus arrived and I, as did at least 20 other people, crowded around the bus driver and shoved their tickets in his face.

The bus driver yelled at everyone and said “Go on. No. Go on. No. No.”

I was told “no.”

Lost and confused, I tried to figure out why I had been rejected once again. I checked my ticket and the bus. Everything seemed correct. The bus number was right and the destination was also correct.

I looked at every single number and letter on my ticket.

I was 20 minutes early.

Another bus came and I made it to Seville to live the best three days of my Seville Spanish summer holiday.

It was all worth it in the end.