POST 22 (11/24/25) MONDAY: FLY BACK TO MADRID DAY

I awakened at 8am due to an early-to-bed and a good night's sleep! I had decided not to have breakfast to better facilitate the morning. I needed to leave the hotel at 10am to head to the airport. I got cleaned up, did a little work on the computer blogging and planning the travel day as well as the arrival in Madrid, finished packing, and called reception to summon a taxi for my ride to the airport. After my final double sweep of the room, I strapped on the backpack for the first time in 16 days and rolled my large check-in suitcase out the door. Alex was working on this morning, and we had a good wrap-up/departure chat during which she strongly encouraged me to return. There were no additional charges beyond the room, which had been prepaid. I handed over my keys and the taxi arrived. The driver loaded my suitcase in the trunk, and I kept my backpack with me. I had my new, thick sweatshirt, which I had purchased in Madrid a couple weeks prior, with me in anticipation of the cold Madrid climate, but not on my back, as it was a beautiful, warm morning on the island (of course as I am leaving the weather heated up again). I jumped in back, and we exchanged some pleasantries, etc. in Spanish. He put on some reggaeton music, which I do enjoy to an extent. I mentioned a couple artists with whom I am familiar and enjoy like Nicky Jam and Daddy Yankee, both of whom he was of course familiar. I noticed that his car was pretty dirty, as in extremely dusty vents which had clearly not been cleaned in ages. That, coupled with his somewhat erratic, young-man-testosterone-driven excesses of speed (and one other fairly significant issue I will get into in a second), made me consider mentioning to Alex that she may want to reconsider the drivers with whom she has kick-back relationships, for the benefit of her guests. But I am not a complainer, and hesitate to offer my bro-bono consulting services in this way, so I let that thought pass. 

We arrived at the Las Palmas airport in about 20 minutes, and he dropped me off at some of the first doors to the singular terminal. Once inside, it was a bit confusing where to go. There were long lines of passengers queueing to enter some next area, but it was so far unclear where they were heading, at which stage of the process they were in, and if this is where I needed to be or not. Fortunately, I looked to a departures sign for relevant information, which illuminated the situation much more clearly. It turned out there was a column for check-in counter numbers relevant to the specific flight one was boarding. That was how I discovered that my flight was checking in at a low-numbered counter, and I was in front of much, much higher numbered counters. So I walked. And I walked, and I walked. Literally from one end of the terminal/airport all the way to the very other end. This was the other rather large mistake of the careless young driver: he did not ask me what airline I was using, and therefore determine the applicable entry door to the airport at which to drop me. So I huffed it to the other end, easily found my appropriate check-in counter, had my little conversation with the agent, in Spanish (of course), and submitted my suitcase on the scale/conveyor belt. There was literally no one in front of me at security, and once I got things loaded into a bin and on the conveyor belt, headed to the metal detector. I was summoned back once my backpack was in the scanning tunnel, as they wanted me to remove the laptop. This is one issue that arises when passing through multiple airports in multiple cities/countries with different privileges and different rules. At SFO, I use TSA Precheck, and do not need to remove my liquids pouch, belt, nor laptop. In my experience on this trip, there was no more shoe removal anywhere, and while some airports required belt removal, others didn't. All staff were super friendly and accommodating, and I of course got through everything smoothly in the end. 

Once in the main terminal area, I checked the departures board for actual gate information. I was there at 10:45am, just over an hour before my departure time of 11:55, and at this airport gate numbers are not made publicly available until an hour before departure. Not knowing which direction I would be heading, I felt it prudent to stay close to this neutral zone before heading too far in what could end up being the wrong direction. There being a Starbucks right beside me, and my having skipped breakfast, it seemed like the thing to do. In honor of the season (and contrary to controversial opinions) I ordered a pumpkin spice latte and a "roll de canela" (cinnamon roll), which I enjoyed seated at a table in the cafe. Over Whatsapp Ramón offered to meet me at the airport in Madrid, which confused me a bit, as I couldn't imagine him having a car. After a few back and forth messages confirming arrival time, terminal location, etc., I was convinced enough that he must have a car to ask him about its make, model, and color, so I would know what to look for at the curb. His response was that he does not have a car and would be taking public transportation to the airport to meet me. Wow! How sweet is that?! It's one thing to have a car and offer to pick someone up at the airport, a very kind and generous gesture to be sure, but to go all the way out to the airport on public transportation just to meet me at arrivals and have that extra half hour or so to spend with me really touched me deeply! Confident in the arrival situation in Madrid, and now being within an hour of departure, I tossed my paper cup and roll sack into the trash bin, and emerged from Starbucks. Nextdoor was a shop called Love Me, in front of which I could not resist taking this selfie (which I posted on my Instagram story upon arrival home to indicate where I had been - I posted no indications of my travels publicly while I was away):

I got to my gate with just a little time to sit, and they began boarding a bit early. Given my low group number, lucky timing, positioning, and flow, I was among the very earliest of passengers on board, as you can see by this selfie of me in a largely yet unpopulated Iberia Express plane. Oh yeah, I had chosen to take a last minute upgrade to business class for less than a hundred bucks when I checked in the day before online. That gave me early boarding and a seat in the last row of the small business class section on this domestic flight:

My seatmate ended up being a 35 year old gay guy named Drew. His story was that he was on a transatlantic crossing cruise with his partner, when his airline employer enticed him with multiple increasing monetary offers to disembark at his next port of call, which was Gran Canaria obviously, fly back to the states, and get back to work on another flight. We talked for quite a while and he was an interesting and fun row-mate. The standard on these flights seems to be that they leave middle seats empty in business class, so it was just us with an empty in between. Later in the flight, a young, handsome flight attendant engaged with us briefly, and I mentioned that it made me envision him at work. He immediately corrected me and said that he worked "up front". I was taken aback! I inquired with a surprised inflection, "You are a pilot?" Indeed he is! I shared that my father and brother were pilots, although only privately, and that my brother even taught ground school at one point. He simply chose that as a career, got his commercial pilot's license, and at that point worked for American, his second airline. Very interesting! 

We landed in Madrid right on time after a 2.5 hour flight. Despite the orange priority tag from having flown business class, my suitcase did not come on to the carousel until the second batch emerged. I almost didn't recognize it at first, as it is my first time traveling with it. It went by me, and then I noticed one of my distinct luggage tags, and grabbed it. Once wheels were on the ground, I whipped out of there and headed for the exit doors. The doors were open from quite a few people heading through them, and I saw Ramón among the waiting crowd right away. We locked eyes, I blew a kiss, and he stationed himself along the path where I would flow out. We hugged warmly, he offered to take my backpack, which I declined, and we skirted toward the airport exit to the taxi stand. It was so comforting to have his meet me, and to be reunited, especially after all we had been through in Madrid, and all I had been through on the island. The taxi line was quite long, and wound around in a double fold. He would have been more familiar and accustomed to taking the Metro, but I told him I felt it best to take a taxi with my large suitcase, given the tall staircases and long walks required to use the subway. The line moved very fast, and we were in a cab in short order. We had a nice female driver, and we both engaged her at different points during the journey. It was fun and comforting to hear his pleasant, brief conversation with her. He is truly a nice guy. Happy to be together, and now settled, I snapped an off-kilter and fairly unflattering (sorry) selfie:

It was around 5pm by the time we finally arrived at the hotel. We used a small check in desk in the street level lobby to check in, although later discovered the much larger, more formal reception desk up on the 2nd floor, which we never used. The front desk agent we engaged was a very sweet lady, and we both had amusing exchanges with her. It was fun to see Ramón interacting with the hotel staff as well. He came prepared with his passport, knowing that the plan was that we both registered and that he would be a legitimate guest staying with me in this beautiful hotel just a few blocks from his home.

The suite I booked was quite impressive, large, comfortable, and with a cute little balcony and gorgeous view of the Plaza de España below, and the Grand Via (looking toward my previous hotel) on the other side. I captured a couple videos to share the view and layout:

After settling in, and a bit of rest (afternoon siesta in Madrid), we slowly got ready for our dinner out. I had made a reservation at a place called Mune, a Lebanese restaurant highly recommended by my favorite YouTube travel vloggers Two Gay Expats. I realized that we were going to be late, and wanted to call the restaurant to alert them and assure that our table would be held. I tried on my phone, but had difficulties making the call. Ramón used his phone to dial them, and then handed it to me to do the talking. I let them know that we were still coming, and would be at least 20 minutes, and they appreciated the call and all seemed fine. We decided to take a bus about 3/4 of the way (down the Gran Via), and then walk the rest, through the gay Chueca district (hand-in-hand even!). We did arrive about a half hour late for our reservation time, and were welcomed very warmly. We were shown to our table, which was very private in its separate area from the rest of the small dining room. We had our own window to the street, and it felt so intimate and romantic for a smitten couple like us. We were both very happy, and had a delicious meal with engaging conversation getting to know each other better, etc. I offered, and then did all of the ordering for us, and we shared everything we got. I was able to order "media raciónes" (half portions) of each dish we ordered. I ordered one at a time, which was a fun culinary adventure, and helped us gauge how much to order ultimately. We ended up with three courses, and were completely satisfied. Focusing completely on each other, I did neglect to get any food pics. We had a very pleasant exchange with two of the staff on the way out. I shared my Instagram, and the man now follows me. I told them of the Two Gay Expats including them in a video, and he now subscribes to their YouTube channel. What a perfect experience in every way!

We decided to take a long after-dinner walk all the way back to the hotel. He led me on side streets, where we never set foot on the Gran Via. Some of these streets were lined with Christmas lights. I find Madrid to be a very spirited city, whether it's the rainbow flags and umbrellas hanging from above during Pride month, or these illuminated Christmas decorations at this festive time of year:

And once in the final stretch to our hotel I decided to snap a pic of the entire tower so we would have the perspective both from inside looking out as well as outside looking in (or up in this case). Our suite was on the 7th floor, and obviously had one of the balconies seen in this pic (when enlarged and zoomed in):

Since our dinner didn't start until 8:30, went long and leisurely, and included the fairly significant walk back to the hotel, it was getting fairly late by the time we returned, so we essentially got cleaned up and headed to bed. Given the large, comfy king sized bed, we were super content there and very happy to be together. I really like this guy a lot! 😍