Cargill Travel Blog

Breakfast at Park Cafe is not a full on fry up affair, but a mere egg muffin and a coffee. It is sedate and relaxed here; not too busy or noisy at all. A far cry from Wind Jammer breakfasts. Although when queue for coffee some bitch turns around and gives me a filthy look, for no reason. I cannot fathom why. Her husband then stands in the way of the sugar so I reach across, ensuring unnecessary contact but on my terms. I’m petty like that. They are foreign, goes without saying. Dicks.

We go back to room and Doni is already cleaning the room, he apologises and explains he has a busy day, then leaves. We hang for 20mins or so then get the call to leave for deck 5. We don’t queue for long to get out, then along the gangway and into the terminal, where our luggage is in a numbered bay. Then outside into chaos. There’s hi-vis people around, but busy, and no RC reps, only a firm called Intercruise. We see coaches so walk towards them, and I see WOTS Terminal 1 on the first. Door is open so I wave my paper at a gruff Spanish driver who ushers me on further down, grumbling somethin.

There is another WOTS coach but the luggage compartment is full. An English guy is using orders to his kid “you grab a seat, I’ll get the luggage in”. Then Intercruise rep says to me this one is full and it’s likely to be first one I saw going next. I put luggage into empty hold, and we’re in. We see English guy get on our coach. Also see a guy that looks like Dermot O’Leary who was on the coach we got a week ago when we arrived.

The coach sets off and Hungry Eyes is playing on the radio. Lisa says I always have hungry eyes. Then Foreigner is on, appropriately. Looking forward to more 80s rock hits. Oh hang on, it’s Jennifer Lopez. Nope, back to Springsteen.

Into the airport and luggage is unloaded. Lisa says “Let’s hang back, there’s no rush” , 2 seconds later: “She’s taking my bag!”. I move swiftly to get off coach and then Lisa says the bag is ok. False alarm, classic Lisa.

It’s business time.

Into the terminal and we have no idea where to go. Lisa sets up camp and I walk there length, notice that all Lufthansa bag drops are 601-606. I spot the Business Class drop but there is the long snaking queue in front. So we cut through the queue trying not to look like smug pricks. I recognise the lady in the part of the queue we’re cutting through and exchange some small talk. We’re in the executive pipeline now. Just one annoying bitch in front of us asking loads of questions, I’m sure I saw her in LHR last week and I think I was irritated by her then.

We reach the counter and the baggage lady said if we want an earlier flight 13:35 since there are delays and it’s advised, but there won’t be enough meals for all. It’s about 10:15 so we say yes please. I ask about security and she says we can use express lane. Sweeeeeet. Bags are gone, we walk past the giant security queue with maximum smugness, to a side room with two lanes, one with a stressed woman with a pushchair saying she needs to board asap. She’s in the wrong lane, plonker.

We are through in 2 minutes. 2 freaking minutes. I’m swabbed on the back of both hands, and on my little pot belly. Odd. The swabs go in a machine to confirm I am fat. We emerge from our shortcut to the other side of the security snake, and are now seeking out the VIP lounge, aka the promised land. Takes us about 5 mins and we go up the escalator, a stairway to heaven. A floor mounted sign falls into a woman and she screams. It looks like it weighs the same as a feather. Two couples in front of us in the queue are directed away from the lounge, jog on people, back to genpop with you. Reception lady glances at our boarding passes and gives the nod of approval. I can almost smell the aroma of expensive coffee beans already.

The lounge is large and divided up into subsections: Buffet, cosy seating, business area, meeting pods, swivel chairs with foot stools, kid area, around a central core with WCs. It’s hard to see due to the large cloud of smug 😉. We hit the buffet which is arranged in linear fashion with an eclectic mix of foods; a lot is pastry based. Bottled drinks galore. The plates are small and square, and I load with cold pizza/bruschetta thing, prosciutto, some cheese. The mini rolls with blue cheese look tempting, but not refrigerated so I pass – don’t want the executive shits. There’s also fruit, salad, rice, pasta, cookies and hot dogs.

We opt for swivel chairs in a quiet area. It’s all pretty quiet tbh. Shoes off, feet up. I go for an espresso and a tub of ice cream; mango and macaya or something. It’s a lovely oasis and we only stay for about 45 mins because there’s shopping needs doing.

Given its size, El Prat is pretty disappointing in the way of shops. Duty Free is best. There is a shop called “Buff” but we don’t need that service. We walk the length of the airport, and position ourselves mid-Zone B. Our early flight is delayed by 20 mins (again, where is that German efficiency?). Gate is announced eventually as B28. We’re there 5 mins and they change the gate, B44. That’s where we just where, shietzer. Three channels with no markings await. One channel fills and queue extends out. We hang back, some people fill the other channels. Staff place boarding group signs and we join the group 1/2 line.

Row 3 of the plane is ok, just in front of the curtain. The middle seats are blocked with a table. Lisa is by the window. The stewardesses talk to us in German but we soon reveal we are clueless inglish, innit. They bring strange food, which I eat, naturally. The main is sliced cold sausage, with shredded gherkin, onions, and something with the texture of melon but not the taste, and catches me off guard. There is a bowl with what I think is a grey pebble in the middle of a sea of pomegranate. I tap the stone and it breaks, like an egg, and inside is creamy mallowy goo. Lisa has some of that dish, plus bread. The flight is uneventful after that. I reckon the real plus to biz class is skipping those queues and getting in the lounge. The plane bit is nice – more free food and drink, no annoying twat in adjacent seat, but tbh that would give me something to write about. We’re nearing Munich, where we will be unceremoniously busted down to cattle class once more 😥.

Munich

We arrive in Munich. There’s not a great deal to do here tbh. We peruse the shops, look at the steins, jackboots, etc. A lot of it is just clean, tidy, open space.

We buy a beer and a hot chocolate in Schubecks and nab a large table. Within 15 minutes the table is “annexed” by some Germans, but with our blessing. They seem ok.

At this point WordPress has a freakout and it is impossible to add any more. I can’t even caption photos. So I think I will end it here, in this vapid bleak hinterland of an airport. No wonder they have so many types of beer. See you on the other side.