My recent posts recount some of the experiences my husband and I have had with travel to and around Europe. I have discussed travel by air [Flights of Fancy] and travel by train [My Train of Thoughts, My Thoughts of Trains]. Now it is time to discuss all things automobile related – airport shuttles, tour buses, and rental cars. If they have at least four wheels and traverse highways and byways (oh…and traffic circles), then we have experienced them.
Buckle-up people, it’s going to be a bumpy ride! Let’s start first with airport shuttles
Shuttle Diplomacy…
You just never know what you are going to get when you travel in and out of the world’s airports. Some are swanky, some are sweaty. Some are modern, some are archaic. Now, you expect a few “meh” (the emoticon equivalent of a shrug)…
…moments when traveling, and airport shuttles definitely qualify as a meh, but the one we entered at the Paris airport was a bit more frustrating then that mere emoji could adequately emote. In Paris, we stood in a long line, carry-ons (called hand luggage overseas) in hand, patiently waiting to enter the shuttle to take us to our departure terminal. We waited…then waited some more. We noticed others checking their watches and looking ahead silently counting how many were before them and wondering how big the shuttle was. After all, it was a long line, and we all had somewhere to go…soon! When the shuttle arrived, we started our walk to the vehicle. When we got close, we saw that the shuttle was quite full, so we hesitated. No, the attendant motioned and encouraged us to get on. My husband had his backpack, placed appropriately on his back. He goes into the shuttle a few steps then stops short. It is so crowded he can’t even turn around, and the man with my husband’s backpack now in his face was none too happy. I squeeze in and am told to go farther so that the door can close. Once I manage to do this without pushing my husband and said backpack closer to the frightening scowl on the traveler’s face, the engine started…then stopped. Two more passengers were let out of the line…the door opened…two more passengers crowded in. The scowling man? Oh, not a happy camper…
Our Bus Tour de Force
Our first trip in Europe was on a tour bus. It was a perfectly lovely company – Colette Tours. We chose to travel this way due to our inexperience and trepidation about knowing what to do. We needed someone to do the driving for us. Outside of getting on and off the tour bus 35 times, (which means 35 different queues, 35 times we waited for passengers with walkers and wheelchairs who did not bother to read the tour statement about the physical conditioning required for this particular excursion and 35 times we waited patiently…or not…to get on the road again), the bus experience was a positive one. The vehicle appeared to be brand new, was very comfortable with plenty of legroom and overhead storage…and the air conditioning worked…a big plus for this hot flash mama. I give it a relieved emoji…
Overall, the big buses that shuttle one from the airport to the hotel, and around the city as a part of scheduled travel tours – like the ones we experienced on our River Cruise up the Danube – were really quire nice. However, the buses that are used on day trip tours that you can arrange for yourself (think Alhambra trip from Costa del Sol, or Gibraltar from Costa del Sol) we found to be very uncomfortable. In those two tours the seats were so close together (assumed to allow as many paying customers as physically possible, thus increasing profit margins) that I could not enter my seat due to the man in the seat before me reclining. I mean, no one could have gotten in, not even a size zero supermodel! So a disappointed emoji for those experiences…
Then there are the private shuttles, or car services, that are commissioned through travel agents. These experiences can add to, or distract from, the joy of the ride. In our private car taking us from Lake Como to Milan, on the last leg of our Italy trip, the driver was quite nice…spoke a bit of English…very polite…yet had absolutely no idea where he was going. Keep in mind, we were not going anyplace exotic or outside the norm. We were headed to a popular chain hotel by the airport. You would think that anyone who drives for a shuttle service would have a working knowledge of the common pick up and drop off spots. Nope, not this guy. He decided to use one of his Who Wants to Be A Millionaire? lifeline and call a friend…or two. He should have exercised his other lifeline and asked the audience. I finally pulled out my smart phone map app to see just where we were, and where we should have been. I think this one deserved a confused emoji…
It’s Taxi Time…
Jon and I were married in Mazatlan, Mexico; which was also the first time we experienced the joy of foreign taxi service. Taxis in Mexico…what to say?… what to say? How about FEAR! We would be sitting on the edge of our seats, but some didn’t have seats with edges. Some had holes in the floor…and no seat belts…and driven fast…VERY FAST! Now this was 1980, so hopefully Mexico has enacted a few laws about taxi service.
But we have a soft spot for taxi cab drivers. Our best man, Francisco, was our taxi cab driver. He escorted us to the courthouse. He assisted us to fill out the forms. He then took us back to our hotel because the judge was on vacation. Two days later
he took us back to the courthouse, but we had to drive to the outskirts of the city to pick up his lovely wife, my matron of honor, Florinda. It was a very intimate ceremony, amidst total strangers…and a little kid selling Chicklets. After we signed our name in two places and affixed our signatures (the extent of the entire ceremony), our taxi driver wished us “¡Felicidades”.
Oh, and by the way…the judge’s name was Jesus, so it felt…well…right. 
Time to share your experiences with shuttles, buses and car services…
NEXT UP: Driving One’s Emotions, Part 2 – Hit the Road, Jack! – The Rental Car Experience!