I spent the night at Raelene's in order to take the metro to the bus station where we were going to catch either the 5:30am or 5:45am bus to Girona airport in order to be there at 7:00am for out 8:25am flight. Only the 5:30am and 5:45am buses were mysteriously cancelled (perhaps because of the día de Sant Jordi holiday), much to the chagrin of the huddles of angry foreigners wondering how in the hell they were going to catch their flights. Naturally, the bus company was in no way actually affiliated with Ryanair, so it had very little sympathy for the only option it left us with: a 150 € cab ride. Thank God for Sofia, whose brilliant idea to take the 6:00am Renfe train to Figueres left us with exactly 30 minutes to get the metro to Sants, buy tickets, and hop on the train before it left us completely out of options. In Girona city by 7:15am, we hailed a cab for the 15-minute ride to the airport. With time to spare before our flight started boarding, we sat at the McDonald's outside our gate waiting for them to call our flight. Except that they never did. And as soon as it appeared on the departure monitor we were staring at while scarfing down breakfast, our flight was making its "Last Call." Are you serious? We could have missed our flight simply because they never called us to board. I'm just relieved to know that I will never have to take Ryanair again. I lost ten years off of my life dealing with this mess. I woke up at 4:30am for an 8:25am flight and I almost missed it And to those of you who have yet to study abroad, take heed. Ryanair's cheap flights (and don't forget the sneaky extra charges plus the bus trip) are NOT worth the stress. Good riddance.
As you can imagine, the snazzy hotel that our IQS friends from Mallorca hooked us up with was a welcome retreat after a classic morning in Ryanair hell. Somehow we managed balcony rooms, complimentary breakfast and buffet dinner, spa and pool access, and walking-distance to the beach for 27,50 € per night. There was absolutely nothing hostel-esque about this place. We were in paradise. After a quick visit to check out the pool, we grabbed some lunch at The Ship, a very Irish, very English-speaking locale that boasted cheap sandwiches, loaded baked potatoes and beer. Fabulous. After a little more sun and some serious spa time, I turned in for the night to catch up on the sleep I had been missing.
Saturday we woke up, stuffed ourselves with a hearty breakfast, grabbed some refreshments from the grocery store, and headed to the beach. The beach was really small and private, almost like a little cove. It had its fair share of topless tanners to be sure, but I was too distracted by the cerulean water to even pay attention. I'm not sure I've ever seen water like that in Mallorca; you would have thought it was filled with diamonds the way the sun made it sparkle. I concluded that I must live near water. The sense of tranquility it brings is unrivaled. If it weren't for the sun compromising the health/color of my skin, I could have taken a nap out there. But instead I headed back to the hotel to cool off.
That night we joined our Mallorcan hosts for some traditional Mallorcan cuisine - frito mallorquín, pan de tomate, caracoles, and hierbas de Mallorca, an anise-flavored drink made from cacti indigenous to the island. Then we headed to el Maritimo to see what botellón was truly all about. Botellón is Spain's "pre-gaming." In Mallorca, hoards of people park all along the boulevard facing the water, grab their drinks of choice, and pass the time until the clubs across the street start hopping. We ended up at a club that had the most unbelievable mix of American favorites - everything from Lou Bega's "Mambo #5" to Gaga's "Paparazzi." So, yeah. That was pretty much amazing.
Finally, we headed to the city center to snag some Mallorcan pearls and check out the cathedral. I wasn't ready to leave, but getting back was much easier than arriving. All in all, I hope I get the chance to go back. Perfect weather, beaches, and nightlife? I'm not sure I could say no.
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