Eraa K.: My Journey from Salzburg to Barcelona

At 5:40 in the morning, my two friends and I caught our train from Salzburg to Munich. The ride was super-relaxing – we laughed a lot and were just having the time of our lives. Once we arrived in Munich, we checked in for our flight. Everything was fun and smooth, until the moment we had to weigh our suitcases. I already had a feeling mine was too heavy, and I was paranoid about paying for extra luggage. But guess what – I was 2 kg under the limit! What a relief!

Then we made our way to the gate. We still had two hours before our flight, so we spent most of the time napping. On the plane, we talked the whole time and were super excited to finally land.

After landing, we waited for two friends from another class who arrived around the same time. We bought our bus tickets and were ready to go. But as soon as we stepped outside – boom – the heat hit us like a wall. When we tried to board the bus, we were told we had to use a different stop. Luckily, another bus was already waiting at the new stop, so we quickly got on.

While riding, my suitcase started rolling around the bus – I had to chase it down quickly. We got off at Plaza de Catalunya and took the metro. Until that point, I was still in a good mood, but the metro stairs were awful. The heat and heavy suitcases were too much. I was so tired of carrying my luggage that I just dragged it down the stairs. It made such a loud noise that everyone turned to look at me. Still, a few kind people offered to help us, which was really appreciated.

Once we reached Barceloneta, just five minutes from our apartment, we first had to pick up our keys. And of course, on foot, with our suitcases, in the blazing sun. At one point, I noticed I couldn’t roll my suitcase properly anymore, the wheels were stuck. I had to drag it slowly, stopping every few meters.

At the key pick-up spot, we entered a code, and the locker opened. We got the keys and walked to the apartment. But then – shock: the staircase was narrower than our suitcases. We were wondering how we’d ever get them upstairs. Some French teenagers in the building offered to help, which was nice of them.

We tried to open the apartment door with the key, but it didn’t work. We tried again. Nothing. Panic set in. Were we being scammed by our Airbnb host? We tried calling them, five times, but no one answered.

Then I rechecked my messages and realized they had sent us the wrong house number. We ran to the other building and tried the key again. And yes, it worked! A kind neighbour again helped us carry our bags upstairs. Once we got into the apartment, we immediately collapsed onto the beds for a break.

We had said on the plane, “Let’s hope everything goes smoothly.” Yeah… we probably shouldn’t have said that – because everything went downhill from there. But in the evening, we went out and saw the sea, and just like that, all the stress was forgotten.