Sunday, April 1, 2007 The bus arrives in Madrid at around 6:45. I get off at the second stop and catch the Metro to the Airport. I arrive at the airport about an hour later with plenty of time to spare before needing to meet my family’s 8:45 arrival. So, I ask for the plane I think they’re on and am directed to Terminal 1. So, I find the arrival gates and watch people emerge for about 45 minutes or so, then my phone rings. It’s my mother. She’s asking where I am…”In the arrival area waiting for you” Well, I was in the wrong terminal watching the wrong group of Americans emerge. So, after catching a bus to Terminal four I finally found them! Hearing Dad’s whistle (because we’re all trained like darned dogs) was
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