Madrid, Part 2...and other stuff

Aaaaaaand we're back for part two of the Madrid weekend.

When we last left our hero (if it's not too bold to call him that) he and his drunken compatriots had just fallen asleep. Unfortunately for the motley crew, they had to be completely checked out of the hostel by 11 a.m. the next morning, so they would not be able to fully sleep off their drunken stupors. Let's see what happens next...

Yeah, that was fun. Did you guys enjoy it? I sure did. Anyway, those of us who hadn't gotten "borrached" out of our minds the night before stirred around 9:00 and, after showering and packing, finally got out the door around 9:45. Caroline, Michael, Kirsten, John, and I then set out to find El Rastro, the largest open-air flea market in Spain, according to a friend we met in Madrid. He also warned us that it was the largest concentration of pickpockets in Spain, so walking around with all of my possessions on my person and a huge backpack full of clothes and toiletries was just fantastic, lemme tell ya.

Despite the inconvenience, we had a fun time. No one bought anything, but I've a feeling now that we have a feel for the place we'll go back and try to find some deals. I will say that the constant snippets of bargaining I'd catch as I passed each booth reminded me of my two week trip to China after freshman year. Those who were there know I'm certainly not the best barterer in the family, so I hope when my mom shows up she can show me a thing or two (with me translating of course.

I did make one enemy when an old man asked me if I wanted to try on a knock-off Spanish national soccer team jersey I was eyeing. I said I'd like to see if it fit, so he let me take it out of the bag and unfold it. Unfortunately, I realized then that I had no money, so I handed it back to him, mumbled my apologies, and ran out of there as quickly as I could. I swear I could feel his eyes burning a hole through my backpack two blocks away.

After the whirlwind that was the Rastro, we decided to be good little Notre Dame students and go to one of Madrid's many churches for a quick mass. What fine Catholic youngsters," you must be thinking, "to take time away from their international travels to enjoy a mass together." I'll admit that it was a beautiful church (most here are) and that it was nice to catch mass, but I'll also admit that I only understood about a quarter of what was said. Ah well, learning's a process I guess.

After mass, we decided it was time to do some more sightseeing before the highly anticipated Real Madrid game at Santiago Bernabeu stadium. First, though, we agreed that we should go to the bus station to find out if we would be able to leave our bags in lockers for the game and then grab them before the bus for Toledo left at midnight. One problem with that; the bus station was on the complete opposite side of the city from where we were. We would end up spending the next several hours underground at various metro stations, first finding out that no, the bus station didn't have lockers, then, after a series of calls, finding out that the Real Madrid stadium would let us in provided we threw away anything resembling something throw-able. A fun three hours, I must say.

After a relaxing lunch, we set out to see the sites a bit more (read: the girls went shopping and the guys sat in the main plaza and people-watched). Finally, it was time for the game. I think only one among our group could match me in excitement for this game, but Real is Caroline's favorite team, so I s'pose I'll have to settle for second. When we finally got through security (I had to throw out my travel bottles of shampoo, face wash, and body wash...boohoo) it was a looooooong climb to the top. Nosebleed seats for 25 Euro...gotta love that exchange rate, eh? Price aside, I was QUITE excited.

Still, once we got up to the tippy top we realized the seats weren't nearly as bad as we thought for two reasons. First, European soccer stadiums are way more vertical than are US stadiums, so even our seats weren't too horizontally far from the field. Second, and perhaps more importantly, we had heat lamps aimed at us. Having been this high up on a mid-30s night before, I can tell you how much I appreciated them. Clearly Michael did too.

The game was just as amazing as I'd hoped it would be. Cristiano Ronaldo, Real's pretty boy forward, scored two quick goals right before halftime, then proceeded to get ejected (via red card, for those who know soccer) in the 70th minute. We had to leave a few minutes early to catch the metro back to the bus station and make the trip to Toledo, but we know Real won 2-0 over Malaga, a great game and an excellent cap to a fantastic weekend.

Now that we've updated you on Madrid, we can talk a little about this week. I returned Monday to find that I STILL hadn't received my ATM card in the mail (I finally got it this morning) and would thus continue having to bum cash off of people. Not much has happened this weekend in the way of life-changing things...except that I'm 90% locked in on a trip to Morocco in the middle of March, thanks in large part to my dear friend Mary who showed me a fantastic deal on a trip. Thanks, Mar...definitely owe ya a drink when I get back to ND.

Other than that, life's good. I just turned in my first essay (two pages on the rise of theatre in Spain during the beginning of the Renaissance) and I'm about to celebrate with a pint...or three. Tomorrow night, I take my second trip of the semester to the beautiful southern city of Sevilla (again, with a little help from Mary). I'll likely leave my computer behind, so if anyone NEEDS to contact me...wait. Or fly to Sevilla, it's small enough that you should be able to find me.

Right, that's it for me. The bar calls!

Ciao,

Griff

Madrid, Part 1

As is becoming customary, I'm sorry for having taken so long to post again. This time, though, it's for a partially legitimate reason; we were in Madrid from Friday morning through 2 AM Monday morning, and as much as I wanted to trust the lockers in my hostel room, I couldn't allow myself to bring my laptop. Whatever, I'm here now, and I've got a good bit to tell all of you. If I may begin at the beginning...

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

Crazy Day

The title pretty much says it all, but I know you're all just pining for another one of my beautiful narratives, so though it is not usually my custom to bend to the will of the masses, I'll oblige.

(And yes, for those of you wondering, I had a FANTASTIC time writing that first paragraph).

Today was our second full day of classes and, unlike yesterday's "adventure" which consisted of two periods of the same professor explaining the syllabuses* for the two classes I have with him, we actually did some learning today. First, in a class about Spanish Golden Age Theatre, we spent ten minutes introducing each other to the class, then after spending five minutes on the syllabus, the professor jumped right into an intense lecture about the Renaissance and Reformation and their effects on Spain. Thank God I'd studied that period a couple times in high school so I kinda knew what was going on (Side note: P-scott, H-Rock, if you're listening, a thousand thanks).

After a break, I had my first Hispanic-American Lit class, which was much more manageable...except for the fact that I had to go BACK to that class a few hours later (they do it weird here). There we learned about literature from the Aztec, Mayan, and Incan cultures before the Spanish arrived. Fun stuff, I assure you.

The most entertaining part of the day, though, happened after class, with a bunch of us gathered in a room frantically trying to book flights. First of all, I had a trip all set up to get to Dublin for the weekend of Feb. 18-21 when something...happened. After I bought my ticket to Dublin through AerLingus (Irish airline, for those of you unfamiliar), my receipt told me I'd be leaving Friday night at 8, rather than 10 AM Friday MORNING as I'd expected. After ten minutes of frantic/furious backtracking I realized I'd been fooled by what's admittedly a pretty shady interface. I debated some, and decided that I'll eat the US$100 and take the cheaper flight for more time there (Sorry, mom. Just remember that I'm paying all of this back and if I resist, well, you know where I sleep). A few frantic searches later and I'd also booked a round trip to Lisbon. All in all a pretty exciting, stressful, and expensive day, but it'll all be worth it. Provided AerLingus or RyanAir don't screw me at check-in, that is...

Now, my heart rate having been raised to unhealthy levels today, I think I'm gonna step out and grab a beer. On a Tuesday. God, I love Europe.

'Til next time, stay frosty everyone.

Adios,

Griff

*Note: yes, for those of you who were gonna call me on it, that IS an acceptable plural form of syllabus. Also, yes, I wrote it that way just to get a reaction from you fellow grammar Nazis out there. So sue me.

A thousand apologies

Hey y'all

Sorry that I've taken so long to update this thing. The past few days have been a whirlwind, during which I picked classes, got a little more settled with how things run around here, and, of course, turned 21.

As those of you who have seen my Facebook page will notice, I finally answered the cries of the masses and put up my first set of touristy photos. Many more of those to come, don't worry. I'll try to be brief in explaining all that's happened since my last entry (as you can imagine, there's been quite a bit) but it won't come as a surprise to those of you who know my writing style that I make no guarantees of brevity.

I s'pose I'll start with our second night out...after figuring out the hard way that convenience stores stop selling alcohol at 10 p.m., we were forced to skip our first botellon (pre-game) and go straight to a bar. The one we picked turned out to be a great one, and we made friends with the bartenders. We've gone back since and whaddya know, they remembered us! There's a bit of travel advice for ya: when in a foreign country for an extended period, always befriend the local bartenders. You never know when they'll come in handy.

Over the next few days, other American students from the University of Minnesota and Ohio University, as well as a handful of students from Puerto Rico arrived at the Fundacion for their own orientation. I've yet to meet most of them, but I've gotta think there are at least a few friends yet to be made. I did, however, get a chance to meet a few who were out celebrating a friend's birthday in a local club. And while we didn't befriend any bartenders, I did end up getting a few "free" drinks; one of the beauties of studying in a foreign country is that everyone's constantly trying to break 20- or even 50-Euro notes. Thus, when you buy, you buy a round. We're big proponents of the pay-it-forward philosophy here.

The next morning (by some miracle, surely) I woke up in time for our 10 a.m. guided tour of Toledo. That's where a lot of my pictures were taken, as you can imagine, but aside from giving me an excuse to use my camera, we found out some interesting stuff. For example, the picture below is something you'll see all around the city, and it signifies that that building is a convent and that those outside should be quiet and respectful when passing.

After the tour, I succumbed to my first American desire...I bought a can of Pringles. Not quite as delicious as the McDonald's I had after a week in China, but pretty darn good. Kinda nice to have at least some of the amenities of home while I'm here...gotta love corporate America, huh?

We spent the rest of the day exploring the city, as we have all week. This place is impossible to describe...it's literally a maze of tiny winding streets, most barely wide enough to fit one car through, let alone two. I still only have a vague notion of where things are, but then, as many of you know, I'm what I like to call directionally...ahem...challenged, so we'll see how long it takes me to get things wired.

After a nice dinner at home, the moment arrived...at midnight, as I set foot on the main plaza of Toledo, I turned 21. Alas, I did so in a country where the unofficial drinking age is 16, but whaddya gonna do. I won't get into the details of the evening, as they're still a bit fuzzy (not to mention potentially incriminating) to me, but I do know that I had an excellent time and, a botellon, two bars, and three clubs later, I arrived home safe and sound at 6 a.m. local time. Needless to say I was rather proud of myself for surviving. Below is a picture of my first "legal" drink, in case anyone's really interested. Yeah, I look happy. Also, I'm proud to say for the record that no porcelain gods were worshipped that morning. I'll reserve that honor for my much belated birthday celebrations when I get back to the US. Those of you on campus for Senior Week have been warned.

Anyway, I woke up at about 3:30 that afternoon feeling pretty good all things considered, and showed myself just in time for lunch with my host family. We had paella, a traditional Spanish dish made of rice and various kinds of seafood, and afterward my family surprised me with a cake. In a moment of glorious coincidence, at the exact moment they put the cake in front of me and started singing, my real family called my phone to do the same. Alas, I made them wait a few more minutes before calling back, but it was great to talk to them when I finally did.

Today, we finally started our classes and while I have two with the same professor, he spent the entirety of each period going over his plans for the class. Turns out they have Syllabus Week here too...go figure, eh? I'm thinking those two classes (20th Century Spanish Lit. and Recent Spanish Film, both with Fuentes) are gonna be interesting ones, but we'll see what the semester brings. If nothing else, I know I'll be writing at least 8 papers...fun times.

I think, at long last, I've gotten you up to speed with what's been going on here in the past few days. Props to those of you who stuck it out to the end. For your sake and mine, let's hope I don't go this long between entries again.

Nos vemos,

Griff

Saludos Desde España

Hey everybody,

For the few of you who don't know, my name is Griffin and I'm a junior at Notre Dame, but this semester I'm studying in Toledo, Spain. This may be a bit cocky on my part, but I figured that one or two people back in the states or in any of ND's other study-abroad programs might want to keep tabs on my daily comings and goings, so I thought this blog would be the best way to keep everyone posted on my glorious semester across the pond. I'll update it fairly frequently, though I make no promises. If nothing else, I'll be sure to throw a few pictures up every so often and make sure everyone knows when I'll be traveling both in Spain and around Europe.

Now for the basics. I got to Spain yesterday (around 7 a.m. local time) after an 8-hour flight from Chicago. Luckily, I've got 26 other Domers with me, so if nothing else this should be quite the adventure for all of us. We will be studying at La Fundacion Jose Ortega y Gasset in Toledo, and most of us (myself included) will be living with host families. All of the classes will be in Spanish and if they talk anywhere near as fast as one of the administrators at the Fund, we'll be in big trouble. Let's just say I was lucky to catch one of every four words out of her mouth...made for quite the interesting meeting about host families this morning.

Since our arrival, we've basically been trying to figure out a little bit of the geography of Toledo, as well as tracking down cell phones for ourselves (viva Movistar!) and converting our money to Euros (yay for the strong dollar...oh wait...). Oh yeah, that whole lack of sleeping bit was fun for the first day. Luckily, all was not lost; after a long day of meeting host families and adjusting to the time difference a group of us decided to seek out the legendary O'Brien's Pub. It's been a popular spot for ND students in the past and last night we saw why. It might have been that we were the only people he'd heard speak English in a while, or it might have been that some of us dropped 20 Euro all by ourselves, but for whatever reason Emilio, the bartender, seemed to like us. We'll definitely be going back...look out.

Today, I finally moved in with my host family and while I was nervous for a bit of a culture shock, I'm surprised at how oddly...American this whole experience has been thus far. My parents, Eduardo and Begoña, are incredibly nice people and have been nothing but welcoming since the moment they met me. They have two sons; Eduardo is 13 and Ignacio is 9, and while they're handfuls, I'm already a big fan; they play ping-pong and FIFA '10 like it's their job. I'm thinkin' it's gonna be a good semester.

Right, well, I've rambled sufficiently for a first post. I look forward to keeping this up and I hope at least one or two of you out there decide to read the thing from time to time. Now, though, I've got an RA application to work on, so I'll be off. Until next time, ¡Viva España!

Ta luego,

Griff