Weekend trip to Madrid hectic

Some say everything happens for a reason, and as cliché as it sounds, my weekend in Madrid reaffirmed that statement.

Take the journey to Madrid: I almost went to Palma Mallorca this weekend, but decided at the last minute to join a group headed west to Madrid and Segovia. No destination change, no Madrid.

Then take the subway station: I wouldn’t say the kiosk ate my credit card, but rather held it between its teeth like a dog with a chew toy.

One friend, Katie, looked for help and just as the machine gave up the fight, Katie told us our train left from a different station. No credit card struggle, no train station change.

So we asked customer service to confirm and he walked us to the kiosk, pushed the buttons and guided us to the platform — because, when in doubt, play the doe-eyed foreigner. So we jumped on the train to Chamartín, but there were at least four Chamrtín stops and we got off at the wrong one. At this point we had three minutes before noon, our departure time. We caught the next one and read Segovia, five minutes, on the marquee and couldn’t believe the miracle. No customer service, no correct platform.

We got on the train and relaxed after running around train stations in the way I’ve only seen in movies. We enjoyed the real Spanish countryside after more than a month in the city until the conductor asked for our tickets. He smiled, chuckled even, and told us we were on the wrong train. We bought tickets for the 30-minute commute to Segovia, and we were on the scenic route — a ride just more than two hours. But, no slow train to Segovia, no day trip to Segovia.

We walked all over Segovia — down its winding cobblestone streets, past the Roman Aqueducts and Segovia’s gothic cathedral all the way to Cinderella’s castle, or Alcázar. As the sunset, we retraced our steps to the train station and arrived with enough time to rest before our departure. Then a police officer informed us there were no trains to
Madrid and I panicked — what happened in Madrid?

We jumped in the nearest taxi and headed to the other train station in Segovia with just 20 minutes to spare. No police officer, no train back to Madrid.

We made it to Madrid and opted out of exploring El Escorial, one of Spain’s royal sites and home to the remains of every Spanish king, in the few hours before our train to Valencia. Instead we spent Sunday afternoon at El Prado Museum where I finally saw “The Garden of Earthly Delights” and several other paintings I’ve only seen in
textbooks.

I learned of this particular painting senior year of high school and have waited years to see it in person. I stood in front of it long enough to catch an explanation from a tour guide and I could have stayed longer. No El Escorial cancellation, no Garden of Earthly
Delights.

So our planning wasn’t perfect and our blood pressure probably increased from the stress, but my weekend in Madrid made me realize that it doesn’t matter how much one might plan, everything won’t always run smoothly. We’re amateur travelers and every adventure is a
chance to learn. Lesson from Madrid: Be prepared to run.