Madrid

February 25, 2013:
My first impression of Madrid was the metro system. I was within a rather uncomfortable proximity to my fellow riders and at certain points was wedged between people as they entered and exited the metro cars. I bought a two-day metro pass which I soon realized was a waste of money. You can get anywhere in the city by foot pretty easily. I liked that the city seemed less organized than Barcelona. Where Barcelona's blocks were all square and even, Madrid had winding roads and it felt much easier to get lost.

I checked into the hostel, dropped by bags in my room, popped out for a second to do something and when I got back I couldn't figure out how to unlock the door. My key was saying that the room was unlocked, but the door handle still wouldn't open. I knew that there was someone already sleeping, so I felt bad for fiddling with it. I just waited. Eventually, I was rescued by a guy staying in the room who didn't say a word to me (or anyone else in the room) the entire time I was there. I was concerned that I wouldn't meet anyone. There was also a group of 5 American girls who came in and they were sleeping in the five bunks around mine, but they didn't even say hi to me.

Lucky for me, several minutes later, two French girls came through the door. I took a deep breath and asked them in French where they were from (Nantes)... I was delighted when they asked me if I was also French. Yessss! Hélène, Margot and I decided to participate in the free salsa lessons at the hostel together later that night. Another of our roommates joined us, Emmanuel, who is originally Italian, but studied in Spain for a while so he also spoke Spanish, and who currently works in Malta, where he speaks English. I ended up being the go-between because the girls were not that comfortable in English and he didn't speak French. Our salsa instructor was Venezuelan and he taught our lesson in French and Spanish. His accent and his enthusiasm when he spoke French made me giggle. It was strange to be learning in two languages that I speak (sort of, when it comes to Spanish) but that are not my mother tongue. Emmanuel invited one of his friends to come (or he would have been the only dancer) and there was another French girl from Montpellier who ended up joining us all for dinner.

I thought that since we had a local with us, we might be in for some insider information concerning restaurant choice, but we had no such luck. We stopped at a place down the street that offered a reasonably priced menu. I ordered garlic chicken -- I don't know if I've ever eaten a meal with so much garlic in it. For dessert, I ordered the chocolate mousse.

Classy.

There was abar next door called "Cher's Bar" advertising "laser karaoke". I've sinced looked up the translation of "laser", but it means the same in English as it does in Spanish. I am still perplexed as to what the difference is between laser karaoke and regular karaoke. Regardless, we thought it would be hilarious to do some Spanish karaoke, until upon entering the bar we remembered that karaoke means there is no singer accompanying you incase you make a mistake. There didn't appear to be many English songs (and I don't really know any French songs). The gentlemen in the bar were thrilled to meet "French" people and one in particular kept saying "Bonjour" and "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?" How original.

While we were perusing the book of song choices, there were a number of incredibly talented locals who took the stage and intimidated us even more. Finally, after about an hour, I realized there was a special section in the back of the book with an English song list. Although I'd like to claim that this meant I jumped right up there, the waiting list had become a half-hour long and Emmanuel needed to get back to bed because he had to leave at 5am the next morning for his flight. We said goodnight to him and opted instead to join the hostel pub crawl.

I've had some questions about what exactly a pub crawl consists of. Basically, it is a night out planned by the hostel. You pay one price to the hostel who gives you a wristband which gives you free entry into the bars/clubs included in the pub crawl as well as one drink at each location. You go to and leave each bar/club as a group, directed by a member of the staff from the hostel. Afterward, you're welcome to return to one of the bars that were on the tour if you liked it, and you still get in for free. All of the bars on the circuit we did were pretty cool. The music was great, the girls were hilarious (teaching me ridiculous French songs and dancing up a storm), and we ran into about a million Québécois. I exaggerate. I think we ran into one, who took a fancy to our friend from Montpellier. He was originally excited when he heard I was Canadian, but blew me off immediately when he found out I was from English Canada. Typical.

The last club we went to was a blast, but it was quite late and a lot of the men were too drunk. We amused ourselves by dancing in the middle of the dance circles that always seemed to form, but then we'd spend the next half-hour trying to avoid some creep who thought that our proclivity for dancing meant we wanted to dance with them. Not the case. When it started getting a bit scary how persistent they were, we left. We tried to tuck ourselves in to our beds as quietly as we could and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

February 26, 2013:
I woke up around noon, kicking myself for wasting so much of my day, but actually, the Spanish are more like night owls than early birds, so I fit in quite well.

I had been given a list by my friend Max of places that I should see, and it was the same as the recommendations made by the hostel. Plaza Mayor was the first stop.

 I didn't really understand the purpose or the historical importance of the square at the time. According to Wikipedia, it has been the site of "markets, bullfights, soccer games, public executions, and, during the Spanish Inquisition, autos-da-fé against supposed heretics and the executions of those condemned to death." What I found interesting was the presence of Puss in Boots and Minnie Mouse asking for money if you took a picture of or with them. I found Spongebob and Patrick in another square. Disney inspired tourism.

One of the best recommendations Max gave me was to go to the Chocolatería San Ginés. When I walked in, I placed my order in Spanish and sat down to soak in the atmosphere. The walls were a rich dark green covered with framed black and white photos or famous Spanish clients. My hot chocolate and churros were delivered by a man who wore a white uniform as if he was some sort of specialist. I tried to be casual as I snuck a photo of my churros, and was relieved to see that all of the tourists around me were doing the same thing.

Accidentally in Love played as I dipped my first churro into the hot chocolate and took a bite. It was heavenly. The slighty salty churro was perfectly balanced by the melted dark chocolate. I ate slowly, savouring every bite, and entertained myself by eavesdropping on the Québécois couple sitting next to me.

My next stop was the Puerta del Sol. In my head, the name which means "Gate of the Sun" implied a circular space, but it was vaguely oval and too large to remark the shape. The lack of sun also didn't mesh with my imagination. I had really failed in terms of researching the importance of these tourist destinations, and so again I was left wondering what the attraction of this particular space was. Wikipedia once again provides me with interesting answers:

"The Puerta del Sol originated as one of the gates in the city wall that surrounded Madrid in the 15th century. Outside the wall, medieval suburbs began to grow around the Christian Wall of the 12th century. The name of the gate came from the rising sun which decorated the entry, since the gate was oriented to the east.
Between the 17th and 19th centuries, the area was an important meeting place: as the goal for the couriers coming from abroad and other parts of Spain to the Post Office, it was visited by those eager for the latest news. The stairs to the Saint Philip church at the square were known as the Gradas de San Felipe, and were among the most prolific mentideros de la Corte (this Spanish idiom sounds as "lie-spreaders of the Court", but it is related with the verb mentar, "to say about someone", not mentir, "to lie", so it is more appropriately translated as "places of the City where people buzz about other people")."

Apparently the President of Madrid also works at one of the buildings in this square.

I also managed to miss the most important photo op for a tourist in this city. The statue of the bear and the Madroño Tree  which is apparently the heraldic symbol of Madrid found in the Puerta del Sol. I later noticed it on postcards and magnets and wondered where it was located, only to realize I had already passed it by.

The Plaza de España was striking. There was an enormous fountain and some smaller ones surrounded by a park where a market had been set up.

I walked along the main road, Gran via, and succeeded in buying postcards and stamps in Spanish. I couldn't find a magnet that I really liked. Perusing the postcards gave me a few more options of places to visit throughout the day, so I stopped at the Puerta de Alcala:

 And the Plaza de Cibeles:

Up until this point, I had yet to use my metro pass. In an attempt to make use of the money I'd spent, I took the metro out to Las Ventas, the site of the bullfighting ring. I was too late for one tour and had 45 minutes until the next so I stopped for lunch at an American-style restaurant that promised "Comido con el sello americano Mother Quality Guarantee"... Food with the "Mother Quality Guarantee" American stamp. I don't know about all that, but the food was decent. Unfortunately, it took a little longer than I'd hoped and I missed that tour as well.

I decided to spend the remainder of my day out at the Parque del Retiro which used to be the Royal Park, but is now open to the public. It was beautiful.

 

There was an outdoor public work-out playground. Since discovering this one, I've learned we have one in Lyon at the Berges du Rhône section of the river. When I first saw it, I was confused that there were no children playing on it, but I slowly realized that there were personal trainers or something giving people advice about what to do and that all the adults were dressed in work-out clothing. It is a seriously cool idea, but it was a bit bizarre. I don't know if I would be comfortable working out in public like that.

 

My plan at this point was to visit the Prado museum during the hours when it is free for students, but instead I fell asleep in the hostel for a few hours. Late nights and lots of walking tired me out!

 

I had dinner with Margot and Hélène while the rest of the city watched the soccer match between Madrid and Barcelona (Madrid won 3-1) where I tried, and shockingly liked, baked salmon before bed. I had an early flight to Porto the next morning.