Me cago en la leche, I muttered under my breath, realizing that the train I was waiting for didn’t run on Sundays, and I was going to be late for the hiking trip. I unlocked my phone to beg someone to hold the bus for me, and – hostia – I had run down my prepaid phone card. But wait! The station had free wifi? I frantically sent out a few distress signals, only to discover that two others that had also missed their public transportation to arrive at the meeting point on time. Sigh.
Fast forward about 50 minutes later. We had given up sprinting across the university campus, looking for a bus that had already left, and were meandering back toward the bus stop. No one was particularly looking forward to returning to our host families in defeat, so… we didn’t. After some quick brainstorming, we hopped back on the train going the other direction, toward a sleepy costal town called Altea.
With narrow pedestrian streets winding through the white washed and terra cotta-roofed buildings, the town was saturated with Spanish charm. See for yourself!