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Published: September 14th 2009
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Gordos
One of the signs that spurred my memory. Gordo means fat. I woke up in Madrid today. Probably the best part of this is that I actually can speak some Spanish, albeit it’s been 11 years since I studied it in school and two and a half years since I started studying it again for two or three weeks. Nevertheless, I set out with confidence that I might actually be able to communicate with the locals.
The day started with a short run to loosen up my legs after Saturday. When I woke up just before 8:00, everyone else was still asleep. When I got back, pretty much everyone was still asleep, tired from late parties the night before. The others were racing out to get to museums.
Apparently, Madrid boasts two main attractions - museums and clubs. I really wasn’t interested in any of the museums. And clubs? Fuhgettabouit.
What did interest me were the taperias. And I found a tour of taperias that started late this afternoon - now that’s my time of day. None of this starts at 11:00 pm nonsense.
Leading up to this, I did the tourist sights that were suggested by my tour book and some from the hostel’s guide. Most of
Food at El Museo de Jamon
Here's my croissant mixto and my rose wine. them weren’t particularly fascinating - perhaps I’ve seen so many great things that I’ve become finicky.
I did enjoy the Cathedral since it was much different than many others. The interior is a bright white with gold structures and colorful artwork as decorations. It had a more jubilant feel to it than the rather solemn ones seen around Europe.
After my sightseeing and a brief stop at the hostel, I set out for the meeting place. I arrived between 3:50 and 3:55 for a tour that was supposed to start at 4:00. No one was there from the tour company. I had taken tours with the same company in Paris and they had very similar structures - bright red shirts, big signs and no caps on the size (or at least we never came close to hitting them since they had spare guides).
At 4:00, it dawned on me. In Spanish class in grade school, Sra (pronounced sir-rah) always used to tell us how the Spanish were never concerned about being punctual. I thought maybe that was the case here. No luck. I bailed at 4:15.
Throughout the day, I was coming across various signs, menus,
Dinner
Meat, fries, bread and RED wine for dinner. advertisements, etc in Spanish. I started to remember more and more from my days of studying the language. My trip to El Museo de Jamon (the museum of ham) for tapas, after my tour didn’t work out, put my memory to the test. I fared well, other than my confusing my limited Italian vocab with Spanish and ordered “vino roso” (red wine in Italian) and the bartender took it as “vino rosa” (Spanish for pink wine). Dumb mistake.
For dinner later on, it went even better. I actually conversed a bit in Spanish, asking a question about the menu posted outside. I’m sure it wasn’t perfect but it felt that way after my IQ:70 communication skills in France.
I also realized this afternoon that I screwed up and forgot to get in touch with Pablo, a Spanish exchange student from my high school days who lives near Madrid. Stupid - he could have given me some great tips and maybe we could have even met up.
Tomorrow I leave Madrid for Barcelona. I’m looking forward to this a lot since everyone that’s been there has said such great things about it. I hope they’re right.
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