La(s) Capital(s)

To start- I promise I am going to catch up on everything this week.

First week in Spain, here we go. After landing we shared a shuttle from the airport to our hotel with two girls. As it turned out, they were the Welsh Womens Badminton Team. Apparently the American team has one really weird player- over confident and does not follow proper etiquette of badminton. Go figure. The three of us that went to Paris stayed at a cheap hotel because the rest of the group did not arrive until the next day. The hotel was decent, but our room was decorated with an oriental theme and classic Spanish paintings, a bit odd, if you ask me. We asked about wifi (or wee-fee as they call it), and the guy (who in his tattered casual wear did not look so competent) said they had it and gave us the password. To clarify, by yes we have it, he meant it goes as far as the lobby, but luckily our bathroom was right about one corner of the lobby. If we laid on the far right corner of the bathroom, then we were able to get it. This is when I began to realize that wifi in Europe is not as accessible as it is in the States. That night Shannon and I went to eat dinner at a place a couple doors down. We walked in and they told us what table to sit at, and then almost immediately asked if we wanted menus in English. So much for the blending in goal. The first thing we saw on the menu was a section for vegetables, so of course we got these, having almost starved ourselves because we couldn't bring ourselves to eat any more ham, cheese, or bread in France.

When leaving the next morning we asked the guy at the desk (different guy in a suit and seemingly more competent than the guy working the night shift) how to get to a metro station Sol (one of the most used stations in Madrid), he quickly become worried and highly suggested a taxi for us, then proceeded to walk down the street, wait for a reliable company, get the taxi, and tell the guy where to take us. I was impressed. We arrive at our hotel (three stars, what an improvement), but they explain that they were out of space and that our group was going to be staying at a hotel owned by the same company, but it was right next door. We assumed that we'd we going back down to a two-starer, but little did we know we were going to get the hook-up at a four start hotel. We left our luggage and then went to breakfast while we waited for the rest of the group. We ate at a place called Nebraska and were once again reminded that no one in Spain likes to do anything quickly, except talk.

Eventually the whole group arrived at the hotel (well, except Rebecca who missed her connection in New York due to bad weather and wouldn't get there until that night), then we got a very brief tour of the city. It was nice, not as pretty as Paris, although it was comforting to be somewhere where I could at least kind of speak the language. We ended the tour with a trip to Museo Nacional del Prado. I enjoyed it, but almost everyone else looked like they were going to pass out because of jet lag. The next day we received tours of Museo Reina Sofía and the Palacio Real. Also, while walking around the city, our professor who lived in Spain for several years, including time in Salamanca where I'd eventually end up, could throw in interesting facts, especially those about the long-time twentieth century Franco, who people had spent the last thirty years trying to forget. While walking anywhere in the city, it was almost impossible to avoid Plaza del Sol (the location of the metro we had tried to take) where we realized why the hotel guy had not allowed us to take it. It was only a few days before the local elections on Sunday, so it was packed with protesters, tents, makeshift living areas, signs, banners, and trash. The people participating were interesting to say the least. If any of them had showered in the last month, I'd be surprised. Dreads, shaved heads, weed, bubbles, and dogs were quite popular among these people.

That night, we went to a Flamenco show, which was interesting for the first hour and a half, but I'd recommend not going to a four hour show. It was a little different than I expected, but I know that I could never do that. After the show, most people from our group decided to go out and experience the Spanish culture. Someone had heard of a seven story discoteca (not club, because that's a whorehouse here), so naturally we had to go. I was  slightly disappointed, but maybe because it had been hyped up. We had a lot of fun. Among the happenings included meeting the PR guy for the club, who gave us his number and insisted that when we came back to call so we wouldn't have to pay the cover. When we left at 5 am (which is early for them, by about an hour, hour and a half), I was amazed at how many people were still out. It was almost just as many as during the day. It was ridiculous, and I'm still trying to figure out how they survive with that lifestyle. It was later explained to me that the metros typically close between 2 and 6 am, so people go out around one and then stay out until after 6 so they can catch the metro or train home. Smart, I suppose. 

The following morning at 10 am, our group set out for Toledo. It was the capital of Spain until the Moors took over in the 700s. It was absolutely gorgeous. We got a short tour of the city, and then were given free time in the afternoon to walk around and explore. A couple of us paid to go into the Cathedral. El Greco lived there for part of his life, and so his art influenced the city. It also was a mixing point of the Jewish and Muslim cultures, until they were kicked out of the country. Overall, it was an interesting and gorgeous town.