« Northward BoundMainCracker Smuggling »

Kicked Awake

Our night in Barcelona was fairly awful. We had something to eat in the well named Cafe Ars, which was just how the food tasted, and all the staff wore aprons with 'Ars' printed on the front then, suitably unsatisfied, went off to look for a quiet corner to sleep in.

The airport had a bit of a dodgy feel to it at night, with homeless looking people hanging out for an opportunity to grab something, and not much security around. It wasn't the kind of place you wanted to spend the night but with our flight leaving the next morning we had little choice. All of the seats had individual armrests which, without a hacksaw, prevented us from lying down, but being accustomed to sleeping in airports, we'd come prepared with camping mats and sleeping bags. At the far end of the terminal we found a corner next to a glass partition, bedded down for the night against our bags, and tried to get some sleep.

We both woke continuously, however, with people walking over and staring at us, kids banging against the glass, and at one point a crazy guy running around screaming in the middle of the night. By the time morning came we were both so exhausted that we passed out... only to be rudely awoken. A security guard came over and began kicking me awake then shouted at us in Spanish to get up. Carita replied that we were waiting for a flight connection but he shouted back that sleeping is not allowed in Barcelona Airport.

Once we finally escaped from Barcelona we flew into Stansted, and our plane stopped next to a newly arrived El-Al flight. The security around it was unbelievable with police on the tarmac beneath the plane and policemen with machine guns all over the airport as if Britain was at war. Passengers were checking in for the return flight to Israel at the end of the terminal where the entire bay of check-in desks had been cordoned off with a makeshift security checkpoint and police 'do not cross' tape around the whole area outside. Marksmen were everywhere, even lying on top of the check-in desk roof with a machine gun, and security officials at the checkpoint were arguing with a man, refusing to allow him through. Carita decided it was wise to put her Arab ashmagh away. Obviously, either the flight was under severe threat or Britain's terror paranoia is getting completely out of control as more and more countries worldwide hate it. We walked away to wait for our flight to Cornwall as they announced the boarding gate for the El-Al flight... lucky thirteen!

Post a comment

(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)