Eyebrows
Hyper Poster
As I was writing my usual write-up of new creds from my last park visit, I realized I needed to include context for why I arrived at the park late and had the time constraints I did, because it’s an interesting story. I started writing, and by the time I finished, I realized that what I had put down was way too much for a simple post, but in my mind constituted a mini-TR. So, I’ve posted my journey to PortAventura here instead.
Without further ado:
On June 13, I visited PortAventura for the first time! I had a great time at the park, and rate it highly, but before I could enjoy myself there I had to actually get there. Getting there from our rented apartment in Barcelona was much more difficult than it should have been. We had planned to take the Renfe train from Barcelona to Salou, arriving just as the park opened. We got on the train as scheduled, and things were good for about half an hour. At that point, the train stopped at a station, didn’t open its doors, and sat there. Minutes passed, and it didn’t budge. Somehow, we ended up as the only ones in our car. We were trapped, concerned, and alone. It was a few more minutes before two locals came into our car from the one next to us. The train was deserted except for us and them, and the buttons to open the doors weren’t working. Through our broken Catalan and their broken English, we were able to communicate our situations to each other, and we found out that the train was to advance no further with passengers. Soon after, the engineer of the train came and set us free, and all eight passengers of the train disembarked. We eventually gleaned that we had two options. We could either cut our losses and take the next train back to Barcelona to try the direct route to Salou again, arriving around 2 pm, or we could wait for a train continuing our journey south towards Salou, which would involve many transfers and be a generally difficult journey.
Now, I’ve neglected to mention until now that the station the train decided to unceremoniously drop us off at was just about the middle of nowhere. There is barely any reception there, and the reception we did get was useless because of our crappy low-speed international plan. This was Garraf, a very small seaside fishing village turned tourist beach, with a population of about 350. Tourist beach sounds good, doesn’t it? Wrong. This was a Tuesday at 9:30 AM. When I tell you this place was DESERTED, I mean it. There was one single employee in the station, a blue collar worker assigned to paint the exterior, presumably before anyone in the town got up. So, realizing that we had nothing to assist us but an outdated timetable printed only in Catalan and Spanish, we made the executive decision to…
skip the train back to Barcelona and wait for the next train south! The day was young, after all, and we were confident that we could make it to the park in the next three hours. Having all agreed that 14:00-19:00 was simply not enough time to do everything we needed to do, we watched the rest of the people on the platform board the train, and were, at last, truly alone. Now, we had to wait for the next train to actually stop at Garraf. This turned out to be more difficult than it sounds. For nearly an hour, trains on the line gave a small honk, and blew through the station at full speed. Time after time this happened, and looking at my reflection in the glass of each passing train, my face filled with more and more despair. This train was never going to come.
Suddenly, a chime sounded over the PA system. The arrivals board powered on. The tracks started rumbling with the sound of an approaching train, far in the distance. We’re back. Now, this train would not take us to Salou. Far from it, in fact. But, it would take us in the right direction, and perhaps more importantly, it would take us away from this tiny blip on the map that no train seemed to care about. We took that poor little train as far as it went, to the large exchange station at the end of the line. There, we talked to some actual railway employees (a sight for sore eyes) and got on the next train headed further south not 10 minutes later. Things were finally looking up again after a disastrous start.
Eventually, we got to a point where it was apparent that the railway would help us no more. The next train to Salou would not arrive for another 150 minutes. However, Spain’s thriving taxi network came in clutch, and by this point we were a mere 30 minute drive away. So, half an hour and another 70€ (ouch!) later, we arrived at PortAventura at noon sharp. We were in. With a mechanical failure ****ting us out into just about the worst situation possible, we were able to recover whilst only losing two hours of park time. Not bad! Especially considering the fact that we would definitely not have been able to do everything if we had gotten there at 2, I think we absolutely made the right decision. For my thoughts on the actual park, refer to the Last Cred Review thread sometime tomorrow, as I am too tired to continue writing.
I do hope this was as entertaining to read as it was to write. It was an awful experience, but I learned a whole lot about the Spanish rail system, and got to talk to a lot of good people who were eager to help us. Plus, we got stuck somewhere absolutely gorgeous, so that’s a plus.
Without further ado:
On June 13, I visited PortAventura for the first time! I had a great time at the park, and rate it highly, but before I could enjoy myself there I had to actually get there. Getting there from our rented apartment in Barcelona was much more difficult than it should have been. We had planned to take the Renfe train from Barcelona to Salou, arriving just as the park opened. We got on the train as scheduled, and things were good for about half an hour. At that point, the train stopped at a station, didn’t open its doors, and sat there. Minutes passed, and it didn’t budge. Somehow, we ended up as the only ones in our car. We were trapped, concerned, and alone. It was a few more minutes before two locals came into our car from the one next to us. The train was deserted except for us and them, and the buttons to open the doors weren’t working. Through our broken Catalan and their broken English, we were able to communicate our situations to each other, and we found out that the train was to advance no further with passengers. Soon after, the engineer of the train came and set us free, and all eight passengers of the train disembarked. We eventually gleaned that we had two options. We could either cut our losses and take the next train back to Barcelona to try the direct route to Salou again, arriving around 2 pm, or we could wait for a train continuing our journey south towards Salou, which would involve many transfers and be a generally difficult journey.
Now, I’ve neglected to mention until now that the station the train decided to unceremoniously drop us off at was just about the middle of nowhere. There is barely any reception there, and the reception we did get was useless because of our crappy low-speed international plan. This was Garraf, a very small seaside fishing village turned tourist beach, with a population of about 350. Tourist beach sounds good, doesn’t it? Wrong. This was a Tuesday at 9:30 AM. When I tell you this place was DESERTED, I mean it. There was one single employee in the station, a blue collar worker assigned to paint the exterior, presumably before anyone in the town got up. So, realizing that we had nothing to assist us but an outdated timetable printed only in Catalan and Spanish, we made the executive decision to…
skip the train back to Barcelona and wait for the next train south! The day was young, after all, and we were confident that we could make it to the park in the next three hours. Having all agreed that 14:00-19:00 was simply not enough time to do everything we needed to do, we watched the rest of the people on the platform board the train, and were, at last, truly alone. Now, we had to wait for the next train to actually stop at Garraf. This turned out to be more difficult than it sounds. For nearly an hour, trains on the line gave a small honk, and blew through the station at full speed. Time after time this happened, and looking at my reflection in the glass of each passing train, my face filled with more and more despair. This train was never going to come.
Suddenly, a chime sounded over the PA system. The arrivals board powered on. The tracks started rumbling with the sound of an approaching train, far in the distance. We’re back. Now, this train would not take us to Salou. Far from it, in fact. But, it would take us in the right direction, and perhaps more importantly, it would take us away from this tiny blip on the map that no train seemed to care about. We took that poor little train as far as it went, to the large exchange station at the end of the line. There, we talked to some actual railway employees (a sight for sore eyes) and got on the next train headed further south not 10 minutes later. Things were finally looking up again after a disastrous start.
Eventually, we got to a point where it was apparent that the railway would help us no more. The next train to Salou would not arrive for another 150 minutes. However, Spain’s thriving taxi network came in clutch, and by this point we were a mere 30 minute drive away. So, half an hour and another 70€ (ouch!) later, we arrived at PortAventura at noon sharp. We were in. With a mechanical failure ****ting us out into just about the worst situation possible, we were able to recover whilst only losing two hours of park time. Not bad! Especially considering the fact that we would definitely not have been able to do everything if we had gotten there at 2, I think we absolutely made the right decision. For my thoughts on the actual park, refer to the Last Cred Review thread sometime tomorrow, as I am too tired to continue writing.
I do hope this was as entertaining to read as it was to write. It was an awful experience, but I learned a whole lot about the Spanish rail system, and got to talk to a lot of good people who were eager to help us. Plus, we got stuck somewhere absolutely gorgeous, so that’s a plus.
