The plan was flight from LAX to Newark, wait an hour or two, then on to Madrid.   A train to Pamplona, then a bus/taxi to the start in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port.   Lot of stops and transfers.  Joe had us pre-booked for places to stay from April 24 through April 30 (I think).  

We made it to Newark.   Our flight to Madrid left the gate around 9pm, taxied to take-off, then returned to the gate and dumped us off.   Engine trouble.  We watched them working on the plane until midnight, then they announced the flight was canceled.  

Newark.  When I was traveling for business, I would sacrifice hours of travel to avoid that airport.   Delays and cancelations are common there.  Well, arguably, a busted plane should not be the fault of Newark International Airport, but their reputation remains intact.  

Delays and cancelations are a common feature of air travel.  Happens all the time.  Happened to me all the time.   This time I am going to document it. 

.Flight is canceled and the only folks in the airport are 2 people working the boarding gate and 250 people with nowhere to go.  The gate people suggest we scan a QR code on the monitor for help.   Help comes in the form of an online app where you enter a bunch of stuff about your flight and do-it-yourself rebooking.  Gave up on that and called.   

Calls were routed to a call center, likely located in the Philippines, where I actually got a gal who was competent.  Joe was not so lucky.   Eventually, I use competent girl to take care of both of us. A room at Holiday inn for the night, a flight to Barcelona at 10:00.  So we taxi there, fall asleep at 2am, the alarm goes off at 7am, back to the airport and board the first leg of the flight to Dulles.  

It is a small airplane and I get seated next to a fat guy who scrolls through TikTok videos about food preparation the entire flight.  Next we cool our heals at Dulles for 4 hours, then board the Barcelona which lands at ~8am.  2 hours waiting in the customs line, two *somewhat* high speed trains, a barf-tastic 1.5 hour taxi ride over the Pyrenees mountains, and we finally check into our little condo in Saint Jean Pied de Port at 7ish.  Joe and I collapse on our beds and sleep for 12 hours.

I suppose most folks have bad travel days and this is not the first for me.   However I wanted to document it while fresh in my mind. It SUUUUUCCCKKKKEED.  We were walking zombies last night still queasy from that cab ride.   I found out later that the bus takes the same route.   The couple we spoke with said folks were using the barf bags during their trip.  Buen Camino bitches.