Barcelona, Spain … It took nearly 20 hours to arrive here, leaving from our NV place. The route was to Las Vegas by car, and from there to London and on to Barcelona by plane. It was long, tedious, and I wasn’t impressed by either British Airways or Heathrow airport. Neither were terrible, but both were basically unimpressive. Plus the only time I slept much was on the flight from London to Barcelona.
Individual Brits were very nice unless they were immigrants, the immigrants weren’t awful, but didn’t go out of their way to be nice either. I have been using a wheeled walker on this trip and it has been a help. The other DrC insisted we bring it and, as usual, she was correct.
Viking met our plane and brought us by van to the harbor. The drive to the port from the airfield was very familiar, not our first visit here, nor even our second. I don’t actually know how many times we’ve either begun or ended a cruise here in what the other DrC calls “Barc,” sounding like “bark.”
Later … I wrote the above after we arrived on board the Viking Jupiter and before we went to bed. Following a night of intermittent sleep I awoke feeling hung over, though all I drank last night was mineral water. Crossing 8-9 time zones can have that effect. The ship doesn’t depart until this evening so we will have a lie in this morning and a lazy day trying to start getting over jet lag.
Our stateroom isn’t large but is very nice in the austere Scandinavian style: pale woods, clean lines, right angles. It isn’t something I would choose for my home, but as you might imagine for a cruise line named “Viking” they do it to the hilt throughout the ship. It works very well.
