Last Updated on July 6, 2025 by Master of Detours

Checking a Bag at Ryanair in Madrid’s Barajas Airport: My Insane Experience

Picture this: You’re clutching a boarding pass while three different airport security people point you in the wrong direction to check your bag. Meanwhile, your flight to Porto leaves in two hours, and you’re beginning to suspect that Madrid’s airport was designed by someone who views customer service as an elaborate psychological experiment.  You are about to enter Ryanair and Madrid Airport Hell!

After decades of wandering this beautiful, maddening planet and navigating airports in most of forty-three countries (yes, I keep count—don’t judge), I thought I’d experienced it all. From sleeping on concrete floors in Nairobi to sweet-talking my way onto an army flight into Ecuador’s part of the Amazon jungle, I’ve earned my stripes in the grand theater of travel chaos. But Madrid’s Barajas Airport? Well, that magnificent beast taught this old storyteller that sometimes the simplest tasks become the most absurd adventures.

Before we dive into this delicious disaster—and trust me, by the end you’ll know exactly how to check your Ryanair bag at Madrid airport without losing your sanity or your connecting flight—let me paint you the scene that led to this comedy of errors.

The Setup: Walking El Camino Portugués and the Delta Dilemma

Two weeks earlier, my son David and I had just completed walking the northern portion of El Camino Portugués—a magnificent 100-kilometer journey from Valença, Portugal, to Santiago de Compostela that took us eight days and left us with stories that’ll last a lifetime. Walking El Camino Portugués had been a dream years in the making.  Let me tell you, trudging through Spanish countryside at dawn gives you perspective on what really matters in life.  And, being able to walk it with my son made it that much more special.

After Santiago, David and I decided to extend our adventure with a spontaneous road trip across northern Spain. Two days of driving that gorgeous coastline from Santiago to Bilbao, stopping in tiny fishing villages and eating more pulpo (i.e., octopus) than any two humans should reasonably consume. But here’s where travel throws you a curveball: suddenly, flying back to the U.S. from Madrid made infinitely more sense than returning to Porto.

Enter the Delta change ticket Madrid-Portugal policy surprise that nearly broke my travel budget and definitely broke my faith in airline customer service.

Side note: If you’re planning your own adventure and want to avoid some of my logistical mishaps, grab my free “Adventure Travel on Any Budget” eBook by clicking below. It’s packed with hard-earned wisdom from experiences just like this airport disaster.

The Great Delta Debacle: When “Flexible” Isn’t Actually Flexible

Originally, I’d booked a round-trip Delta ticket from the U.S. to Porto—seemed straightforward enough. But when I called to change my return departure from Porto to Madrid (a perfectly reasonable request, I thought), I discovered that Delta’s “flexible” ticket policy has more fine print than a pharmaceutical commercial.

“Sir,” explained the cheerful Travelocity representative, “you can change your departure city, but only within the country where you originally arrived.”

Whoa, what? My options were Porto or Lisbon. Period. End of discussion.

“Well,” I said, trying to maintain my legendary travel optimism, “how about Lisbon then? I could spend a few days exploring the city.”

“Sure, no problem. That’ll be $2,155 please.”

Let me repeat that for emphasis: Twenty-one hundred and fifty-five American dollars to change a return flight from Porto to Lisbon. For context, my entire round-trip ticket had cost $1,275. Apparently, a one-way ticket back to the US was going to cost $900 more than my original round-trip fare.  I wasn’t trying to book for the next day, but for 10 days from then.

I later checked and I could have booked a completely new one-way ticket on another airline for $800.

Sometimes, you just have to laugh at the absurdity. So there I was, committed to flying Madrid to Porto just to catch my original Delta connection back to the States. Which brings us to that memorable Tuesday morning at Barajas Airport.

Arrival at Madrid Airport: The Adventure Begins

Getting to the airport was refreshingly straightforward—a €16 Uber ride that gave me plenty of time to mentally prepare for what I assumed would be a routine bag check. The subway was under construction, but sometimes the direct route is worth the extra cost for peace of mind.

Walking into Terminal 1, I immediately noticed something peculiar: no visible Ryanair counters anywhere. What I did see, prominently displayed like a beacon of security theater, was the TSA-equivalent checkpoint right near the terminal entrance with its familiar x-ray machines and patient-looking officers.

Approaching the first security person—a friendly woman who spoke excellent English—I explained my mission: “I need to check my backpack with Ryanair. I’ve already paid for it online.”

Without hesitation, she pointed toward the security checkpoint. “Through there,” she said with the confidence of someone who’d answered this question a thousand times.

Now, friends, this is where travel experience should have kicked in. Every instinct I’d developed over decades of international travel was screaming that you don’t go through security to check bags. But sometimes, when you’re in a foreign airport and locals are giving you directions, you trust the process.  My mistake.

The Security Checkpoint Shuffle: A Study in Miscommunication

Approaching the security line, I encountered a second officer. Surely, I thought, this person would clarify the obvious misunderstanding.

“Excuse me,” I said, “I need to check my bag with Ryanair. The other officer said to go through security, but that doesn’t sound right.”

“Yes, yes,” he nodded enthusiastically, “through the security checkpoint.”

A third officer, whose English was less polished but whose enthusiasm was undiminished, confirmed the same thing. Even when I switched to my admittedly rusty Spanish—”¿Está aquí donde puedo facturar mi mochila?” (is it here where I can check my backpack?)—the answer remained consistent: proceed through security.

So I did. Because sometimes, travel teaches you that local knowledge trumps logical assumptions.  But, not this time.

Twenty minutes later, having successfully navigated Madrid’s airport security (which, incidentally, runs with impressive efficiency), I found myself in the departure area, backpack firmly attached to my shoulders, looking for a Ryanair representative.

I found one.

“Excuse me, I need to check my bag.”

She looked at me with the patient expression of someone who delivers bad news professionally. “You cannot check bags from here. You must go back out through security.”  I thought, “OMG, are you kidding me?”

The Great Reversal: Madrid Airport Ryanair Luggage Elevator Basement Confusion

“Back out?” I asked, processing this information. “You mean, back through security? The way I came in?”

“Correct. You cannot check bags from inside security area.”

Of course you can’t. Because that would make sense, and making sense is apparently not part of the airport’s operational philosophy.

“Where exactly do I go?” I asked, resigned to my fate as a security checkpoint ping-pong ball.

She provided directions to what sounded like a different location entirely. Following her instructions, I found myself at another area, where a different employee informed me that I couldn’t exit through that location either.

“Where can I exit?” I asked, feeling like I was trapped in a travel-themed escape room.

“You go to original security checkpoint where you entered,” she explained patiently.

Back I went, approaching the same security checkpoint. This time, however, they had different news.

“No, no, you cannot go back through here,” the officer explained with the same confidence the other officers had used to direct me in the opposite direction twenty minutes earlier.

“Then where can I go?” I asked, my travel zen beginning to show cracks.

“You go down this corridor,” he said, pointing down a hallway that seemed to lead toward the airport’s mysterious interior. “When you can turn right, turn right immediately. You will see unmarked elevator that goes down to basement floor. You can exit through there.”

And there it was—the moment this adventure transformed from routine inconvenience to genuine airport hell.

Descending into the Depths: The Basement Odyssey

Finding the “unmarked elevator” required detective skills I hadn’t used since navigating the backstreets of Marrakech. The corridor he’d indicated seemed to stretch into infinity, with various offshoots and service areas that could have been anything from maintenance closets to secret government facilities.

But I found it—a nondescript elevator tucked around the corner, unmarked and looking exactly like something you shouldn’t enter without proper authorization

The elevator ride down felt like descending into the airport’s subconscious. When the doors opened, I stepped into what can only be described as the airport’s industrial underbelly.

I eventually found an exit that led me back to the main terminal—specifically, to the baggage claim area.  And, the officer there confirmed I could pass through there with the confidence of someone who gave such directions often.

Now, remember, I’d entered this airport maybe forty-five minutes earlier with a simple goal: check one backpack. I was now emerging from the basement baggage claim area like some kind of subterranean explorer, no closer to accomplishing that goal, but significantly more familiar with Madrid Airport’s below ground infrastructure.

The Hunt for Ryanair: A Game of Airport Hide-and-Seek

Back on the main level, I faced my next challenge: how to find Ryanair counter Madrid airport?  Where is the Ryanair Madrid airport check-in location? This, it turns out, was like playing hide-and-seek with an airline that actively enjoys hiding.

Barajas Terminal 1 is genuinely large—I’m talking small-city-airport large. The signage, is not abundant and seemed designed by someone who viewed clarity as a personal weakness. Signs pointed toward “Check-in,” “Departures,” and “Airlines,” but no prominent sign that specifically mentioned Ryanair.

I spent the next twenty minutes traversing what felt like miles of terminal space, following signs that led to other signs that led to different areas entirely. I was clearly nowhere near any airline counters.

Finally, after what amounted to an inadvertent tour of the terminal’s far reaches, I found them: the Ryanair counters tucked away in an inconspicuous offshoot from the main corridor, as if the airline was slightly embarrassed about its presence in this respectable airport.

The line, naturally, was significant.

The Bag Check Revelation: When Simple Becomes Complicated

After waiting in line for another twenty or so minutes (time, at this point, was becoming a precious commodity), I reached the counter with my backpack and my story about to experience budget airline baggage check Europe.

“I need to check this bag,” I announced to the agent, a patient woman who’d clearly dealt with confused passengers before.

“Where is your other bag?” she asked, consulting her computer screen.

“I don’t have another bag. Just this one.”

“But you paid for two bags.”

I paused, processing this information. In my online booking enthusiasm, apparently, I’d somehow selected two bags instead of one. “If I paid for two bags but only have one, can you refund me for the unused bag?”

She looked at me with the expression of someone explaining basic physics to a small child. “No, we cannot do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you paid for it, and we don’t give refunds.”

“But I’m not using it.”

“That doesn’t matter. No refunds.”

Sometimes, friends, you just have to admire the purity of airline logic. I’d paid for something I couldn’t use, didn’t want, and couldn’t return. Of course I couldn’t get a refund.  What was I thinking?

I checked my one bag, accepted the loss of my phantom second bag fee, and prepared to navigate security for the second time that morning.

Security Redux: The Sequel Nobody Asked For

The second trip through security proceeded smoothly—apparently, once you’ve been through Madrid airport security, they remember you. The officers were friendly, efficient, and mercifully didn’t ask why I was making a return appearance.

Back in the departure area, I faced my next puzzle: finding my gate. The departure board listed my flight as departing from gate “ABC.”

Not A, B, or C, but ABC.

Now, I’d walked enough of this airport to know that gates had specific designations—A42, B17, C23. There was no gate ABC anywhere in the terminal alphabet.

Approaching an information desk, I asked how to get to gate ABC.

“Oh there is no gate ABC,” the attendant explained cheerfully, “that means it will be an A, B, or C gate, but we don’t know which one yet. The specific gate posts about one hour before departure.”

Ah. So “ABC” was essentially airline-speak for “we’ll figure it out later.” This struck me as the aviation equivalent of telling someone to meet you “somewhere in the city” and you’ll narrow it down closer to the appointed time.

The Gate Revelation: Modern Aviation Meets Vintage Logistics

When the actual gate finally appeared on the board—B17—I made my way there with plenty of time to spare. The boarding process revealed another charming Ryanair tradition: buses.

Yes, in this modern, expansive airport, passengers walked from the gate to a bus that drove them across the tarmac to the airplane. Then, naturally, we climbed stairs directly onto the aircraft.

Perhaps I’m spoiled by jet bridges, but this felt remarkably old-school for a major European airport in 2025. Though I have to admit, there’s something romantically vintage about walking up airplane stairs like you’re boarding a flight in 1965.

The Flying School Bus: Inside Ryanair’s Airborne Experience

Boarding the aircraft—a Boeing 737 configured with Ryanair’s signature no-frills approach—was like stepping into a flying school bus. The seats were thin, upright, and in Ryanair’s distinctive blue and yellow colors. No recline function, minimal legroom and side room, and just enough space to remind you that you’d paid a budget price for a budget experience.

But here’s the thing about budget travel: sometimes the constraints force you to focus on what really matters. Instead of worrying about seat comfort, I found myself chatting with fellow passengers, and enjoying the simplicity of getting from Point A to Point B.

The flight itself took about two hours and fifteen minutes, though Portugal’s one-hour time difference meant we “gained” time during the journey. So we arrived about an hour after we took off.  Small mercies in travel often come disguised as short-lived mathematics.

The Landing: Ryanair Porto Flight Hard Landing Experience Review

Now, I’d be negligent if I didn’t mention our landing in Porto, because it deserves its own chapter in the annals of memorable aviation experiences. I’ve flown probably a hundred times in my life, across every continent except Antarctica, and I’ve experienced my share of turbulence, weather delays, and challenging approaches.

But this Ryanair Porto flight’s hard landing experience was something entirely different.

As we approached Porto’s runway, our pilot seemed to adopt a philosophy that landing was less about gentle touchdown and more about controlled collision with the earth. The final approach felt normal until those last ten feet, when the aircraft seemed to simply drop out of the sky like a stone.

BAM!

The impact reverberated through the entire aircraft. Overhead bins rattled, passengers gasped.  I found myself thinking that if I were the pilot, I’d be requesting a maintenance inspection after that landing. The whole experience felt less like aviation and more like riding an elevator whose cable had snapped just before the ground floor.

The Ryanair hard landing experience immediately became a conversation starter among passengers, with nervous laughter and wide-eyed glances exchanged as we taxied to the gate. One fellow passenger behind me muttered what sounded like a prayer in Portuguese, which seemed entirely appropriate given the circumstances.

But we were down, we were safe, and we were in Portugal. Sometimes that’s enough.

Practical Takeaways: What I Learned About Checking Ryanair Bags at Madrid Airport

After reflecting on this elaborate dance of airport navigation, here’s what I wish I’d known about the Ryanair bag check process at Madrid’s Barajas Airport:

The Ryanair Baggage Check-In Reality: Don’t trust the first three people who point you toward security—they’re well-meaning but wrong.  Trust your gut.

Location Detective Work: The Ryanair counters are tucked away in a side corridor off the main terminal area. Don’t expect prominent signage—expect to search.

Time Allocation: What should be a ten-minute bag check can easily become a 90-minute airport adventure. Build extra time into your schedule, especially if you’re unfamiliar with the airport layout.  This goes for any airport, not just the Madrid airport.

Baggage Fee Precision: Ryanair’s booking system makes it easy to accidentally purchase services you don’t need. Double-check your baggage allowance and fees before confirming your booking.

Gate Flexibility: “ABC” gate designations mean exactly what they say—the airline will determine your specific gate closer to departure time. Don’t panic if your boarding pass shows multiple letters instead of a specific gate number.

Transportation Expectations: Even at modern airports, Ryanair often uses bus transportation to aircraft rather than jet bridges. Factor this into your mobility planning if you have physical limitations or excessive carry-on items.

Your survival kit:  Should start before you even leave home. These packing tips from seasoned travelers could be the difference between smooth sailing and Madrid meltdown.

The Bigger Picture: Why Travel Chaos Makes the Best Stories

As I write this from a café in Porto’s Ribeira district, watching tourists navigate the cobblestone streets with the same determination I’d shown navigating Madrid’s airport, I’m reminded of why we travel. Not for the seamless experiences or the Instagram-perfect moments, but for the beautiful chaos that teaches us patience, adaptability, and the art of finding humor in frustration.

The Madrid airport baggage adventure cost me roughly two hours of my morning, contributed to my growing skepticism about airline customer service, and provided enough material for several dinner party stories. More importantly, it reminded me that travel—real travel—happens in the spaces between our carefully laid plans.

Would I change anything about that morning? Maybe I’d research Ryanair’s check-in procedures more thoroughly, or arrive with even more buffer time. But honestly, perfect trips are forgettable trips. It’s the mornings when you’re hunting for unmarked elevators, negotiating with patient airline employees, and discovering the difference between “gate ABC” and “gate B17” that create the stories you’ll tell for years.

The Delta Postscript: Sometimes the Original Plan Works Best

For what it’s worth, my Delta flight from Porto back to the United States proceeded without incident. Professional service, on-time departure, comfortable seating, and a landing that felt like landing rather than controlled demolition. Sometimes, paying a little more for a full-service airline pays dividends in peace of mind.

The irony wasn’t lost on me: I’d spent hundreds of euros and hours of logistical complexity to avoid changing my original Delta ticket, only to conclude that sometimes the path of least resistance really is the best path.

But then again, without that complexity, I wouldn’t have this story. And stories, friends, are the real currency of travel.

Final Thoughts: Embracing the Adventure in Every Journey

Every seasoned traveler has airport stories. Mine happen to involve Ryanair, Spanish basements, phantom baggage fees, and landings that challenge the laws of physics. But underneath the surface chaos lies a deeper truth: travel tests us in ways we don’t expect, and the best adventures often begin with the words “this isn’t going according to plan.”

So next time you’re facing your own travel disaster—whether it’s baggage chaos in Madrid, flight delays in Mumbai, or navigation confusion in Naples—remember that you’re not just solving a logistical problem. You’re collecting material for stories you’ll tell for years, building resilience that serves you in countless situations, and joining the grand tradition of travelers who’ve learned that the journey matters more than the destination.

Besides, without travel chaos, what would we talk about over drinks?  Maybe it wasn’t just the chaos. Learn how jet lag can sneakily sabotage your airport experience—especially when you’re already at the edge of patience.

Safe travels, fellow adventurers. May your bags always find their proper check-in counters, your flights depart on time, and your elevator searches be brief. And when they’re not, may you have the wisdom to laugh and the curiosity to see where the chaos leads. For those who want to demystify these kinds of airport peculiarities, grab my comprehensive guide [click below] that covers the unwritten rules of adventure travel.