Today's my last full day in Madrid.
It was 36 degrees out. So what did we do? Naturally, we decided to walk uphill in the hot sun for about 15 minutes to get coffee with hot milk at a cafe. Since we hadn't eaten breakfast, the next obvious thing to do was walk a little farther, to the famous 'Chocolateria San Gines', which sells churros-- hot fried dough sticks-- that you dip in hot chocolate sauce. (Don't judge; I'm on holidays here.) And why choose to sit inside, in the air conditioned restaurant, when you can sit at a cafe table outside in the sun, and soak in the Madrid street atmosphere? The inside of the restaurant is for chumps, not for stylish, seasoned travelers like us.
It was a trifle hot is all I'm saying.
Afterwards we did some sightseeing as we walked back, and then we had a hot lunch that my friend had recommended. (I'm serious. Some people never learn.) We then walked off the heavy food at El Retiro park, a beautiful big park in the city that is of course a hot, sunny, uphill walk away from the restaurant. The park has some shade! But also very, very hot, sunny sections that have beautiful views of hot people doing hot stuff like rowing rowboats in the hot sun. I sat down on a rock to watch the hot people row each other around and immediately leapt up because the rock was insanely hot from baking in the sun all day.
Did I mention I chose today to dress all in black?
Eventually we did the long, hot walk back home. We stopped at the square near our apartment and bought cans of lemonade and drank it down all at once as we sat on a shady bench. And guess what happened? A soccer ball rolled over to my feet. I looked up and could tell it belonged to a little boy who was playing with his dad. His dad was standing a ways away, very tanned and fit and dark and shirtless. If you were middle aged and your eyes were starting to go, and you were squinting in the heat, you could mistake that dad for Cristiano Ronaldo. I'm just saying.
I kicked the ball back. It was hot. And also kinda hawt.
Sisters
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Friday, September 2, 2016
Spanish Sisters in Madrid
Today Meg popped into a coffee shop while I waited outside and she came back grinning. "I just played soccer in Spain, and you didn't!" she said. It was very obvious gloating.
"What?!"
"Yeah, there were three boys in there kicking the ball around and one pass rolled right to me and everyone kinda waited and looked at me so I smiled and kicked it back."
"Damnit!! Not fair!"
Huge Meg smile. I have never seen so many teeth and gums on her.
I have to admit I owe a huge debt to her for agreeing to come to Madrid with me at the last minute. She works a lot-- like fifty hours a week maybe? And she has kids too so we don't see each other as often as we should. But in late July I sent her a text that said "So.... Do you want to go to Madrid with me for five days in August?" And then within 24 hours she sent me a text back that said "So, looks like I could book a British Airways flight on air miles...." ..and before I knew it it was all booked and she sent me a series of 3 emojis: an airplane, something I couldn't recognize, and a smiley face.
"What's that middle thing?" I texted back. "The emoji. Is that a tampon?"
"It's a picture of money with wings. As in 'my money is flying away on this trip I'm taking with you'," she texted back.
Can I just interject here that I'm really glad there's no tampon emoji?
Anyway, I'm lucky to have her. Today she came to the Caravaggio exhibit with me and patiently listened to me drone on and on about it and then when we came home we opened a bottle of cava and I drank way more than my share of it and she totally noticed and didn't say anything at all.
"What?!"
"Yeah, there were three boys in there kicking the ball around and one pass rolled right to me and everyone kinda waited and looked at me so I smiled and kicked it back."
"Damnit!! Not fair!"
Huge Meg smile. I have never seen so many teeth and gums on her.
I have to admit I owe a huge debt to her for agreeing to come to Madrid with me at the last minute. She works a lot-- like fifty hours a week maybe? And she has kids too so we don't see each other as often as we should. But in late July I sent her a text that said "So.... Do you want to go to Madrid with me for five days in August?" And then within 24 hours she sent me a text back that said "So, looks like I could book a British Airways flight on air miles...." ..and before I knew it it was all booked and she sent me a series of 3 emojis: an airplane, something I couldn't recognize, and a smiley face.
"What's that middle thing?" I texted back. "The emoji. Is that a tampon?"
"It's a picture of money with wings. As in 'my money is flying away on this trip I'm taking with you'," she texted back.
Can I just interject here that I'm really glad there's no tampon emoji?
Anyway, I'm lucky to have her. Today she came to the Caravaggio exhibit with me and patiently listened to me drone on and on about it and then when we came home we opened a bottle of cava and I drank way more than my share of it and she totally noticed and didn't say anything at all.
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Madrid Cuatro
Madrid highlights of today:
1. When you order a beer in a bar, there is no choice of craft beer or anything, in most places there's just the one kind. And when they bring it to you, they also bring you a snack without you asking for it. Yesterday it was a dish of olives. But today it was two little slices of French bread, each soaked in some kind of oily green stuff with a silly little whole fish on the top of it, topped with some strawberry jam. Not joking. Mmm...fish and jam. "Are we supposed to eat it or laugh at it?" I said to Meg. We did it, we ate it, and we were feeling pretty self congratulatory, but then I swear I saw two hombres peeking out from behind the kitchen door giggling at us and saying "Dude, I told you they'd think it was a Spanish specialty. You owe me 5 euros."
2. Kids as young as six were playing soccer in the square until 11pm tonight, and every single one of them is wearing a Real Madrid jersey which makes it really hard to make teams because everyone is wearing red. I SO wanted to join but I was a little worried about playing in the dark on stairs in flip flops. The ball did roll towards me at one point and I almost had my chance to kick it back but it hit a tree instead. Meg kindly said "I totally would have gotten out of the way so you could have kicked it," and I said, "yeah, don't worry, I would have pushed you out of the way if it meant I could have kicked it." We're close like that.
3. There's a whole lot of Jesus in Madrid. Like, A LOT, a lot. Today we went to the Prado museum and saw happy Jesuses and sad Jesusus and skinny Jesuses and kinda Nordic, Swedish style Jesuses, and even one baby Jesus that was the spitting image of Betty White. For real. It's probably for the best that I can't post photos of that one. It was a little disturbing, I'm not gonna lie.
4. I've done three museums in three days, so tomorrow, I'm going shopping. I'm going to try to buy myself a Sergio Ramos. Google him. You can thank me later.
1. When you order a beer in a bar, there is no choice of craft beer or anything, in most places there's just the one kind. And when they bring it to you, they also bring you a snack without you asking for it. Yesterday it was a dish of olives. But today it was two little slices of French bread, each soaked in some kind of oily green stuff with a silly little whole fish on the top of it, topped with some strawberry jam. Not joking. Mmm...fish and jam. "Are we supposed to eat it or laugh at it?" I said to Meg. We did it, we ate it, and we were feeling pretty self congratulatory, but then I swear I saw two hombres peeking out from behind the kitchen door giggling at us and saying "Dude, I told you they'd think it was a Spanish specialty. You owe me 5 euros."
2. Kids as young as six were playing soccer in the square until 11pm tonight, and every single one of them is wearing a Real Madrid jersey which makes it really hard to make teams because everyone is wearing red. I SO wanted to join but I was a little worried about playing in the dark on stairs in flip flops. The ball did roll towards me at one point and I almost had my chance to kick it back but it hit a tree instead. Meg kindly said "I totally would have gotten out of the way so you could have kicked it," and I said, "yeah, don't worry, I would have pushed you out of the way if it meant I could have kicked it." We're close like that.
3. There's a whole lot of Jesus in Madrid. Like, A LOT, a lot. Today we went to the Prado museum and saw happy Jesuses and sad Jesusus and skinny Jesuses and kinda Nordic, Swedish style Jesuses, and even one baby Jesus that was the spitting image of Betty White. For real. It's probably for the best that I can't post photos of that one. It was a little disturbing, I'm not gonna lie.
4. I've done three museums in three days, so tomorrow, I'm going shopping. I'm going to try to buy myself a Sergio Ramos. Google him. You can thank me later.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Madrid the Third
So, good news: I think my Spanish is improving! Today when I used my visa and entered my PIN the machine said 'numero secreto correcta' and I totally understood it! Plus Meg and I went to the grocery store and I recognized the signs for both tomatoes ('tomates') and mayonnaise ('mayonesa'). I guess what I'm saying is that I know it's only been two days but I'm basically fluent in Spanish now.
I don't have the hang of everything though. An example: I read in a Madrid guidebook that when you eat in a restaurant, it's customary to keep your hands above the table where people can see them. What kind of questionable exploits are Spaniards engaging in down there for this to be proper restaurant etiquette? And do you have any idea how hard this is? Restaurants are where the wifi is so my hands are under the table all the time-- on my phone! It's crucial that I don't miss any precious pet videos being posted in Canada.
Unfortunately because I have no mobile coverage here without wifi I do miss stuff. Like, Manu, my Spanish friend from soccer in Tsawwassen, was in Madrid today too and trying to message me because he was killing time waiting for a train RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET from where I was at a museum, also killing time waiting for my sister. In fact we later figured out we were drinking beer at the same time, except because he is smart, he was drinking beer at McDonalds where it costs 1 euro, while I was drinking it in the museum cafe where it costs 4 euros for a smaller glass. I guess it doesn't matter that we didn't meet up in person since we ended up texting for an hour anyway and I'm going to see him at soccer next Monday. But why did he have to make me promise not to eat at McDonalds here RIGHT BEFORE he told me they sell cheap beer and chicken wings and ice cream with coffee on it?
I also saw many amazing Picasso and Salvador Dali paintings today but I cannot post pics with this blog because of technical issues. Calling them 'technical issues' is a nice way of saying I have tried to post photos for hours but cannot and I just want to kill blogger. With fire. If you want to know what the paintings looked like just use your imaginatiion and think about paintings where people's teeth come out of their ears and they have extra eyes on their foreheads and everyone's watch is melting.
Adios amigos!
I don't have the hang of everything though. An example: I read in a Madrid guidebook that when you eat in a restaurant, it's customary to keep your hands above the table where people can see them. What kind of questionable exploits are Spaniards engaging in down there for this to be proper restaurant etiquette? And do you have any idea how hard this is? Restaurants are where the wifi is so my hands are under the table all the time-- on my phone! It's crucial that I don't miss any precious pet videos being posted in Canada.
Unfortunately because I have no mobile coverage here without wifi I do miss stuff. Like, Manu, my Spanish friend from soccer in Tsawwassen, was in Madrid today too and trying to message me because he was killing time waiting for a train RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET from where I was at a museum, also killing time waiting for my sister. In fact we later figured out we were drinking beer at the same time, except because he is smart, he was drinking beer at McDonalds where it costs 1 euro, while I was drinking it in the museum cafe where it costs 4 euros for a smaller glass. I guess it doesn't matter that we didn't meet up in person since we ended up texting for an hour anyway and I'm going to see him at soccer next Monday. But why did he have to make me promise not to eat at McDonalds here RIGHT BEFORE he told me they sell cheap beer and chicken wings and ice cream with coffee on it?
I also saw many amazing Picasso and Salvador Dali paintings today but I cannot post pics with this blog because of technical issues. Calling them 'technical issues' is a nice way of saying I have tried to post photos for hours but cannot and I just want to kill blogger. With fire. If you want to know what the paintings looked like just use your imaginatiion and think about paintings where people's teeth come out of their ears and they have extra eyes on their foreheads and everyone's watch is melting.
Adios amigos!
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Madrid Dia Dos
Today I did not get lost and no one hit on me! Although I suppose that last observation is only a guess since several people spoke a lot of fast Spanish to me today and got blank looks in return. Unless the question someone is asking is spoken very slowly and includes the words 'hola', 'Beunos Dias' or 'cerveza', I am not going to be able to understand it at all. Even then sometimes I catch myself smiling and nodding and saying 'si,' and I just now realize I might want to amend that tactic because I could be agreeing to all sorts of really dodgy stuff.
While Meg slept off jet leg I snuck off and saw the wonderful Caravaggio paintings by myself. You really must see paintings you like in person if you can-- I thought I knew these paintings in great detail but more than once today I saw dirty toenails and surprise nipples that I didn't know existed! (Calm down, I was not allowed to take any pictures of the paintings, so I can't show you. And I know that perhaps I shouldn't sound so excited about those things, but you do you, and I will do me.)
Other Madrid highlights; I saw a 5 on 5 soccer game being played in a plaza where one net was the space between a tree and a light post, and the other net was a large graffitied metal box. The playing field also included varying heights as there were long flat stairs in the plaza. Why didn't I ask if I could play too? It is my great regret of this trip so far that I was too chicken to ask, even though I was at least 30 years older than everyone playing, wearing a skirt, and don't speak Spanish. And a female. But I think they might have said yes, because I could tell they were my kind of people. I don't speak their language but trash talking sounds the same in all languages. Maybe tomorrow.
And I found a wine store around the corner from the apartment that sells the Spanish Champagne cava for less than 6 euros! The kind that costs $20 in Canada. We may have bought all the bottles they had. Shhhh...don't judge, I can drink that for breakfast-- it is grape juice after all. Just as interesting: that wine store also sells Princess Barbie dolls! How come no one in Canada has put those two things together yet?! If I had a party and invited my forty/fifty something girlfriends over to drink wine and champagne and play Barbies, we would have a killer time. Who's in?
And full disclosure: Today I ate Andre's cookies. That is not a euphemism for anything, I just ate the actual package of cookies he forced me to take from the plane because I found them in my purse and I was starving. I didn't want to eat them on principle, but I failed. Damn him for being right about that.
While Meg slept off jet leg I snuck off and saw the wonderful Caravaggio paintings by myself. You really must see paintings you like in person if you can-- I thought I knew these paintings in great detail but more than once today I saw dirty toenails and surprise nipples that I didn't know existed! (Calm down, I was not allowed to take any pictures of the paintings, so I can't show you. And I know that perhaps I shouldn't sound so excited about those things, but you do you, and I will do me.)
Other Madrid highlights; I saw a 5 on 5 soccer game being played in a plaza where one net was the space between a tree and a light post, and the other net was a large graffitied metal box. The playing field also included varying heights as there were long flat stairs in the plaza. Why didn't I ask if I could play too? It is my great regret of this trip so far that I was too chicken to ask, even though I was at least 30 years older than everyone playing, wearing a skirt, and don't speak Spanish. And a female. But I think they might have said yes, because I could tell they were my kind of people. I don't speak their language but trash talking sounds the same in all languages. Maybe tomorrow.
And I found a wine store around the corner from the apartment that sells the Spanish Champagne cava for less than 6 euros! The kind that costs $20 in Canada. We may have bought all the bottles they had. Shhhh...don't judge, I can drink that for breakfast-- it is grape juice after all. Just as interesting: that wine store also sells Princess Barbie dolls! How come no one in Canada has put those two things together yet?! If I had a party and invited my forty/fifty something girlfriends over to drink wine and champagne and play Barbies, we would have a killer time. Who's in?
And full disclosure: Today I ate Andre's cookies. That is not a euphemism for anything, I just ate the actual package of cookies he forced me to take from the plane because I found them in my purse and I was starving. I didn't want to eat them on principle, but I failed. Damn him for being right about that.
Monday, August 29, 2016
Madrid Day 1
So guys, I'm in Madrid.
You know that feeling when you're really into 17th century Italian painting and you find out that a museum in Madrid is having a huge exhibit of Caravaggio's work so you just selfishly use all your family's travel money and go, by yourself, kinda at the last minute? You don't? Ok maybe it's just me that does that.
The flight to Munich was delayed by an hour which meant I only had 15 minutes to bolt through that airport at top speed to the (changed) gate for my connecting flight to Madrid. Fun! But I made it and promptly fell asleep once I got on the plane. You know that wakey-sleepy sleep you get on airplanes when you are all disoriented? It was that, except I only got to wake up the one time since my seat mate was not having any of that sleeping nonsense. The second I opened my eyes he said 'good morning!' -- which I realize now may have been the only full English phrase he knows-- and he talked for the remaining two hours. Andre was born in the Ukraine or maybe Russia and might now live in Madrid and park cars for a job. Or he might not. Who can say for sure? But Andre wasn't going to let his lack of English stop him from his barrage of questions, many of which seemed to be about the 'frontier' between Canada and the US. After a while he also said, out of nowhere, "You are very beautiful."
"Err, thanks."
"And I am very wonderful, so Canada and the Ukraine..." And he clasped his hands together very tightly while I suddenly decided this was an excellent time to visit the bathroom.
When I got back he tried to give me his package of uneaten cookies. After I declined repeatedly he actually took my hand and forced them into it and said "you are very....difficile," and I said "you mean 'difficult'?" And he excitedly said "yeah!" and I coukdn't argue with him there, so I said nothing. Then he said "You married?" and I said "yes!" just as excitedly and flashed my ring, to no effect. When I explained my sister was meeting me here and that we did not bring our husbands, he said, leadingly, "oh, it is much too sad to travel in only groups of two..." as though he was working on trying to remember the English word for 'threesone', then he insisted on trying to lift my bag down for me even though I was already holding it and I am strong as an ox. As soon as I got off the plane I ducked into the bathroom to hide and the girl in the stall beside me was barfing uncontrollably but I kinda didn't mind the sound of it compared to listening to Andre. Luckily when I came out he was gone.
Then I got on the wrong train to get to our rental Airbnb and rode 15 stops instead of 2 like I was supposed to which made me very late. And the Spanish train conductor got Spanish mad at me for putting my feet up on a seat and then Mercedes the Airbnb lady got Spanish mad at me again for being late when she finally showed me into the apartment.
But it looks like a classy hooker's apartment and I love it. (Maybe it is a classy hooker's apartment? Who cares! It has free wifi.)
So anyway, Madrid! Exciting! Tomorrow I get to see art with my sis. Life is good.
The flight to Munich was delayed by an hour which meant I only had 15 minutes to bolt through that airport at top speed to the (changed) gate for my connecting flight to Madrid. Fun! But I made it and promptly fell asleep once I got on the plane. You know that wakey-sleepy sleep you get on airplanes when you are all disoriented? It was that, except I only got to wake up the one time since my seat mate was not having any of that sleeping nonsense. The second I opened my eyes he said 'good morning!' -- which I realize now may have been the only full English phrase he knows-- and he talked for the remaining two hours. Andre was born in the Ukraine or maybe Russia and might now live in Madrid and park cars for a job. Or he might not. Who can say for sure? But Andre wasn't going to let his lack of English stop him from his barrage of questions, many of which seemed to be about the 'frontier' between Canada and the US. After a while he also said, out of nowhere, "You are very beautiful."
"Err, thanks."
"And I am very wonderful, so Canada and the Ukraine..." And he clasped his hands together very tightly while I suddenly decided this was an excellent time to visit the bathroom.
When I got back he tried to give me his package of uneaten cookies. After I declined repeatedly he actually took my hand and forced them into it and said "you are very....difficile," and I said "you mean 'difficult'?" And he excitedly said "yeah!" and I coukdn't argue with him there, so I said nothing. Then he said "You married?" and I said "yes!" just as excitedly and flashed my ring, to no effect. When I explained my sister was meeting me here and that we did not bring our husbands, he said, leadingly, "oh, it is much too sad to travel in only groups of two..." as though he was working on trying to remember the English word for 'threesone', then he insisted on trying to lift my bag down for me even though I was already holding it and I am strong as an ox. As soon as I got off the plane I ducked into the bathroom to hide and the girl in the stall beside me was barfing uncontrollably but I kinda didn't mind the sound of it compared to listening to Andre. Luckily when I came out he was gone.
Then I got on the wrong train to get to our rental Airbnb and rode 15 stops instead of 2 like I was supposed to which made me very late. And the Spanish train conductor got Spanish mad at me for putting my feet up on a seat and then Mercedes the Airbnb lady got Spanish mad at me again for being late when she finally showed me into the apartment.
But it looks like a classy hooker's apartment and I love it. (Maybe it is a classy hooker's apartment? Who cares! It has free wifi.)
So anyway, Madrid! Exciting! Tomorrow I get to see art with my sis. Life is good.
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