After the debacle of planning trips that was last Tuesday, I decided I'd lay low for a while, try not to spend too much. Also contributing to this decision was the fact that might ATM/Debit card still hadn't arrived through international mail, making my cash flow only as big as the generosity of my fellow Domers. Thankfully, they've been more than willing to lend me some Euro in exchange for a simple "Put it on my tab." But more on that later.
Friday morning we were set to leave on a day trip to Madrid through the Fund. As most students tend to, a group of ten of us decided that rather than returning to Toledo that night, we would stay the weekend and explore the capital. Our day started with a tour of the Palacio Real (right) which used to be a royal residence but has since been converted into a museum. As I walked through the huge rooms, each dedicated to a specific daily task (dining, dressing, napping, etc.) I couldn't help but wonder how someone could handle being this rich. Then I realized that anyone who had THAT many self portraits lining the walls probably didn't have much of a problem.
After the walking tour, we hopped back on the bus and got a quick driving tour of the major parts of the city, most of which we would end up revisiting on our own. Naturally I fell asleep for much of this and was awoken only in time to get off the bus and head to lunch at the Museo del Jamon (literally the Museum of Ham). And what, dear readers, would you guess we got to eat at the Museum of Ham? Exactly, fried chicken and french fries. Guess you can't fault 'em for wanting us to feel at home, eh?
After lunch, we said goodbye to the Fund staff who'd accompanied us and set out to discover Madrid for ourselves. First, we headed to the hostel, where I learned that you need your ACTUAL passport to check in, not just a copy. Yay me. Thankfully, the guy behind the desk let me slide. We dropped our bags off and walked fairly aimlessly around our part of the city, the goal being to eventually end up at the Parque Recito (right), a Central Park-ish dealio in southern Madrid. We got there, walked around, took some sweet pictures, and generally did the tourist thing. Fun stuff, lemme tell ya.
Around 7 we all simultaneously felt very hungry and went to grab some bocadillos (sandwiches) at a local cafe. You'll be proud to know we walked right by the local McDonald's, BK, and Starbucks on our way there. Sadly, though, the guys behind the counter still glared at us from the moment we sat down until the door closed behind us. I don't speak a ton of Spanish, and they didn't say much, but I'd be willing to bet some equivalent of "stupid Americans" was thrown in there somewhere.
Our stomachs filled, we split into two groups. The first (the responsible ones) went off to find the bus station that we would have to run to to catch the midnight bus to Toledo on Sunday night. The second group (mine) decided it would be better to do what all college kids truly love after a good snack on their first night in a foreign city...nap.
Fast forward to about 9:30 when we had slept enough to regain our appetites and once again set out searching for food. Luckily we found, of all things, a pizza place. Gotta love that pioneer spirit, eh? While enjoying our authentic Spanish fare, we got a call from Ricky, one of our group who was spending the weekend with a friend living in Madrid, telling us about a bar we should meet him at around midnight. It being 10:00 at that point, we quickly finished dinner and headed back to get ready.
Now this is a slightly dangerous part of the story, so I'll tread lightly. All I'll say is that the gentlemen and two of the ladies in the group were fully dressed and ready at 11:30, while the other two ladies (who, in fairness, had warned us of this) were ready around 12:15. Thankfully, we had a great night ahead of us, so no one was too upset.
We spent a few hours at a small bar that had shots for a Euro apiece (if you've been reading my other posts, you're beginning to see a pattern) and after several (read: too many) shots of tequila we decided to round up the troops and head to a club. I would describe this club for you, but I'm sure you can imagine most of it. Strobe lights, lasers, thumping bass, extortionist drink prices, ad nauseum. The fun part of the night, though, was the walk home.
I'll be the first to admit I take directionally challenged to a new level. And that's when I'm sober. So drunk me was completely fine with being a sheep on this night. Luckily I and a couple others found our shepherd in a somewhat surprising yet altogether understandable place. One of our group had been walking around in heels all night and, as her feet burned to the point that she couldn't stand still, she immediately took the lead and walked as fast as her legs would carry her in the direction of our hostel. While she'd take our arms when offered, she refused to be carried as that would "make me look like I'm too drunk to walk." Gotta love dedication. And what dedication it turned out to be, as we ended up having to walk about twenty minutes to the hostel.
Needless to say sleep wasn't too hard to come by, though the night did have one last interesting twist when Kirsten, the tour guide (read: mother) of the group choked on her own spit, which had my buddy Mike fully ready in the Heimlich position. Thankfully, she lived, and (perhaps more thankfully) we slept.
The original plan in the morning was to be up around 10 to get the free breakfast downstairs then head out to the Reina Sofia, a modern art museum. While I applaud the rest of the group, save for me and Rob, for getting up, I'm quite happy to say I stayed in bed til four and, after a shower, felt damn near human again. At this point, Rob and I set out to meet the group and did so just in time to get in line for the two-hour window in which the Prado, a famous art museum, was free. While I'm not usually into art, I'm definitely into free, and I actually ended up enjoying some of the more famous works from Goya, El Greco, and others. After the Prado we headed back for...you guessed it...another nap.
When we woke up (those of us who slept) we split once again into two. Apparently Ricky's pal had gotten four spots on the list to El Capital, a seven-story discoteca in the heart of Madrid. While getting in free would've been cool, clubs aren't quite my thing (plus I wanted to continue my recovery from the previous night) so I passed. Those four lucky winners got ready and, of course, pre-gamed to save money. When they finally left the room in an...ahem...extremely good place, the remaining four of us - Kirsten, Mike, Caroline, and me - shot the breeze for an hour or so, when all of a sudden we hear a knock at the door. I was mildly concerned, thinking it was the manager telling us to keep it down, but I opened the door to find Connor (now in a VERY good place) who, after mumbling something about "estamos en la lista" and a girl named Beatriz, passed out on his bed.
Confused, the four conscious among us talked for a bit longer then hit the hay. We turned out the lights just in time for the raucous club crew to come back with a pretty funny story. Apparently they were either too drunk to get in or, as the bouncer told them several times, the list they were supposedly on didn't actually exist. Either way, they were more than well enough off already, but decided the only solution was to head to a bar. Hilarity ensued, lots of things I can't talk about as you, Mom, are reading this.
There's a whole other day of this Madrid adventure to tell (and probably the best one if you ask me) but it's now past 2 a.m. and I have class in a few hours, so I'll finish this story tomorrow. That said, hope you've enjoyed yourselves. I know I liked my tired attempt at a cliffhanger.
Ciao,
Griff
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