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Published: March 7th 2006
Ahoy, and welcome back people. What a huge weekend this was, I don't even really know where to begin....
Friday was indeed an eventfull day. Much like the Jeffersons, Armando and I 'moved on up' in every way imaginable. Our new digs is sweet, sweet nectar indeed, exceeding our expectations vastly. Upon arrival we were greeted warmly, offered refreshing beverages and some tasty chicken salad, and allowed to lounge on our house mother's lavish leather couches whilst watching satellite beamed spanish films on a flat-panel plasma display. Despite not being paid to take care of us on Friday, Elly allowed us to stay, enjoy a fine meal and even let Armando sleep on the sofa in the air conditioned living room. (There were not enough beds as one of the students were not scheduled to leave until Saturday!) We walked around the more suburban landscape surrounding Elly's house, including couple of nice parks, and stopped by a bar near there. To our surprise, she was in there with a friend, who asked us to come over and drink a few beers with them, which they then bought FOR us. We insisted no, but apparently that was not an option. Basically, when I'm there it feels very much like home, which is a feeling I can whole-heartedly welcome.
Saturday we went to Toledo, a beautiful desert town which up until a few hundred years ago, was the capitol/seat of Spain. The architecture, while not ancient, certainly captures the essense of the country cerca-1500 AD. It is somewhat deisheartening when industry gives birth to convience stores inside of 500 year old walls, but the fact that those walls are there is a good thing. The cathedral of Toledo is the site to see, exemplifying the might of the catholic church at its height. There truly is no sight like it, for instance the cathedral tower which juts upward into the sky is spined with busts and statues, inspiring a journey to heaven. I'm told its second only to the Vatacan in terms of grandure, and I certainly believe it.
They have a strange facination there with, among all things, weapondry, most of which is medieval in nature. Shops spring forth loaded with ancient hauberks, daggers, bastard swords and even pistols. They have quite obviously come taken aback by El Senor de Los Anillos, as one could find multiple vendors willing to part Gimli's Axe, Legolas' blades and Aragorn's fabled sword. We also discovered, in a shadowy corner of the labrenthine city, a storefront actually called 40's and 9's. Well, perhaps not by locals, but we certainly took to naming it as the aforementioned, mostly because one could procure both 40s AND 9s from within. The 9s were in actuality ancient pistol replicas, but I digress.... I left behind the scorching 44 degree celcius brick oven that was Toledo richer in spirit because of it.
Sunday I bore witness to both the apex of man's divinity and the carnality within us. I mean that I first stopped by the Prado, the great museum that houses Goya, Velasquez, El Grecco and more, and then ventured to Ventas, or as they call it La Plaza de Torros.
The Prado can not be seen in one visit, and I will definatley be back to soak up more of the ancient masterworks therein. I also plan on going to the nearby Renia Sofia, which holds the works of Picasso and Dali. I'm looking forward to the Renia, mostly because I'd love to know if people paint things besides the immaculate conception here in Spain.
The torrido, commonly known as the bullfight, is not to be missed. The event itself is far more gruesome than you may have thought. I previously believed this event to be mostly about the 'dance' with the bull. In actuality, the bull's total evisceration is the goal. The skill of a matador (literally murderer, or killer) is highly determined by how many strikes it takes him to fell the beast. The bull is stabbed, prodded, gutted and poked countless times, in a way that seems much more ritualistic than you'd expect. There is a series of events that play out through each fight, from the initial angering of the beast, to impalement by mounted, spear wielding knights, to sticking it with barbed poles. By the time the matador arrives the bull is pretty much done for, so the term 'fight' is certainly a loose one. At this point the matador can pretty much walk right up the thing without it so much as moving. He dances with it for a bit, but soon he grabs a long sword and sets to down it. There's a sweet spot between the shoulder blades that they aim for, and basically they try and thrust the sword hilt-deep into the bull's torso. When the good matadors attempt this, they do it in 1 or 2 tries. But most of them fail about 4 or 5 times before hitting the right spot, a process which gets more disturbing with each miss. Gore and bits of flesh are strewn about the arena, and by the end of the event blood cakes the clay all over. I think you get the feel for it. It is definatley barbaric, and definatley harkens back to the days of Rome, where the masses would fill a stone collesuem to watch two men fight the the death. I've heard that there are specialty butchers that serve the fresh kills, but I found no information as to where or when. Its a gross display, but I can say I have seen it so.....
Most importantly, I can now be called directly! Reach me at 667261888. Be sure to dial a 011 for international then country code 34 first. Incoming calls are free for me so ha ha!
Until next time, hasta luego.
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Bellhorn
non-member comment
I speaka a english
Hey Johnny, I called your phone and I got some Spanish lady speaking to me in a non-Mike speaking language. She read me back the number I dialed, which I cleverly decipher thanks to living in south Florida. Then she started rambling fast blah blah blah then I heard a beep so I left a message perhaps; or I was just a stupid gringo talking to himself on the phone? I think I got the hang of calling international numbers by now, but just to throw it by you I dialed 011-34-667-261-888. FYI, I got floor tickets for me and my cousin to go see NIN, w0000000000000t.