Our Last Day in Europe: Reflections on Madrid Then and Now and a Paseo on Gran Vía--Blog Entry #99

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Madrid Then and Now
I’ve already dedicated so much of this blog to the deep affection that I have for this city. It’s a hard city to get to know, I think, much like Los Angeles. It is not as friendly as Rio de Janeiro, nor as beautiful. Brasil is easy to love. I don’t even have to try when hosting guests in Rio. But Madrid - how do you show someone that such an austere city filled with brusque madrileños is a down-to-earth and do-what-you-feel town you can’t help but be mad about? I don’t know, to be honest. It’s not by taking them to the Prado (main museum) or El Retiro (akin to Central Park for Madrid). Things have certainly changed since I was here 10 years ago - the metro is expanding, the dog poop has miraculously disappeared from the sidewalks, and there are internet spots everywhere. Modern looking eateries dot the place in between the traditional tabernas. The bocadillos (baguette sandwiches) no longer just have a piece of lomo (pork) with no sauce or accompaniments like lettuce and tomato; they have real, tasty, hot, cheesy version now! Even those gross fried calamari bocadillos seem less ubiquitous than before. More English is spoken by restaurateurs and shopkeepers. International ATMs are easy to find. The euro is everywhere (adiós pesetas!).

But some things stay the same. The jóvenes (youth) still have that funky way of dressing. Gone are the plaid pants (yes, plaid, yikes!) and chunky shoes, but they are replaced by stockings and short skirts with Converse sneakers. The Goths are still here. “Vale” and “Luego” are still muttered in that guttural madrileño accent, and the city natives are still as gruff as ever. People still meet at el oso y madroño in Sol and by Felipe III in Plaza Mayor. Cigarette smoke permeates everything, but the buses are refreshingly smoke-free now. VIPS, El Corte Inglés, and fnac are all still going strong. These are just the little things that make a place seem familiar to you or not, and Madrid is becoming a ghost to me. My affinity for Brasil is much stronger, and I imagine that Madrid will belong more to college days than the future. But I will always love this city.

When Rules Supersede Reason
We have last-minute errands to do - mainly getting some souvenirs for my aunt and uncle in Canada who will be hosting us starting tomorrow. First stop is fnac, the headquarters for music and books that I have come to trust both in Spain and Brasil. I pick out a flamenco guitar CD for my Tito Jimmy, and then grab the latest CD by La Oreja de Van Gogh (a group I discovered several years ago and fell in love with) and a CD by Antonio Carmona (remember La Quinta?). I try to pay with my credit card, but she refuses to accept my student ID card or the copy of my passport as ID. “Tiene que ser el original. (It has to be the original).” I find it ludicrous that this large store would expect tourists to walk around with their passports, risking much more than the loss of money or credit cards should they be robbed. I’m annoyed. Three months of traveling, and everyone else has accepted either the passport copy, student ID, or CA driver’s license. We walk back toward the hotel to pick up driver’s licenses, resolving to leave our passports because the loss of those would be too devastating. On the way, we get bocadillos at Pans y Co (another blast from the past). Back at fnac, I grab the same three CDs and go to a different cashier. I show her the driver’s license (which is the original, by the way), and she explains to me why they don’t accept driver’s licenses. Hmm, California is the 5th or 6th largest economy in the world, and you can’t take my CA identification? I didn’t even have to show my passport to enter Spain from France, but I have to walk around with it in Madrid to buy CDs? I tell her that I would not risk losing my passport by walking around with it, that I can show three different forms of identification that all have my photo. “Hay normas. (There are rules.)” Ahh, that’s right, the rules. The same rules that the Thailand duty free employed to protect themselves from fraud (recall, they tried to make Leroy sign the back of his credit card so they could match signatures, even though “Please check ID” was written on the back for security and he showed them his passport (the original, by the way). I ask if these are fnac rules, and she replies that they are rules of “todo el mundo” (everyone’s). I tell her that that would be impossible, since I’ve just traveled through “todo el mundo” for three months and have not had a problem anywhere, including other places in Spain. She says, “hay normas.” I tell her it’s easier to enter the country than buy CDs, grab my card, and walk away.

You might wonder why I didn’t just pay cash, and the answer is that we have a finite set of euros that we are trying to spend until we leave without withdrawing more cash. That, and it’s the principle. If they make it that hard to purchase CDs, then forget it. Spanish citizens will find it easy enough to carry around there D.N.I. (ID card), but an international tourist should not be expected to tote their passport around.

Paseo por Madrid (A Walk through Madrid)
I figure El Corte Inglés actually wants to make money, and since there’s one near my old apartment, I’ll get my CDs there. We turn left to walk west on Gran Vía toward the Argüelles-Moncloa neighborhood I used to live in. The grand buildings of Gran Vía do little to shade us from the sun. Gran Vía turns into Calle Princesa, past the metro Ventura Rodríguez near where Kate lived for a summer and the Cáscaras restaurant I fancied. Then, there is El Corte Inglés Ocio (Leisure), and I get my CDs, although I have to get a different flamenco guitar one based on the shoplady’s recommendation. El Corte Inglés is notoriously more expensive than other music, book, grocery, etc. stores, but I’m happy to pay the additional €3 when she looks over my CA license and passport copy and expeditiously rings up my purchase. She even gives me the choice to pay in euros or in dollars (you should pay in euros, by the way, because your credit card usually gives you a decent rate and still charges you a foreign transaction fee on top of the conversion charge at the store, which is 2%!)(MISSING). Mission accomplished. Next, we walk three blocks up Gaztambide from Calle Princesa, and pause at number 39, my old apartment. The Hot & Cool sandwich place is gone, and there’s an air conditioner by my old window. The big green recycling dome on the corner has disappeared too.

We turn the corner and walk toward metro Moncloa, then at the edge of Parque del Oeste, eyeing the Arco de Moncloa as we stroll by. A left at Avenida Séneca, where the student dorms are. We are now at the edge of the Ciudad Universitaria (University City) of La Universidad Complutense de Madrid, the main university of the city with over 88,000 students. It was founded in the nearby town of Alcalá de Henares in 1499, although its true origins date back to 1293. It is the sponsoring institution for my study abroad program, IES Madrid, and I attended at least two classes at the main university in order to learn more from that poetry professor who called me a ghost (Ah, Marcos!). We walk into El Colegio Mayor San Agustín, which in my day was a male dormitory that also housed our program. Things look familiar but different. The common area has newer furniture. The bar that served sandwiches and drinks is no longer manned by Chema and his big mole; a younger man has taken over. There’s a plasma screen showing soccer. The IES Madrid offices are empty, but it’s no matter, because Lauro and Susan don’t work here anymore. Fantasmas.

If you’re wondering where the pictures are from our walk, we didn’t take many. I think Leroy is traumatized from the job of uploading so many pictures from Paris and Amsterdam that he doesn’t want to take any more photos. After my nostalgic walk, we ride the subway to Sol for Leroy’s mandatory Häagen-Dazs as well as some failed attempts at purchasing Spanish souvenirs. At the hotel, we count out our remaining euros (€13,05) and plot on how we can make it stretch for a cappuccino and breakfast tomorrow. We’ll have to charge dinner.

Sports Update
What? Kobe wants to be traded from the Lakers? L.A. Galaxy might loan Beckham out to a European team next year? I guess I won’t have much time during internship anyway, but both of those bite the big one. Oh, and the final decision on Ronaldinho? They decided that he would only be suspended for one game (the next one and the penultimate one for La Liga), which is the usual for a red card. The reasoning for lessening the suspension from two games was provocation by the Getafe player (Beleguer) prior to the attempted kick and because he didn’t actually make contact. It seems he was hard tackled at least three times prior to that (remember the bad referee?), and it just so happens that he got caught on tape when he decided to get revenge for himself (since the referee was so bad). Did I mention the referee was terrible?

Garbo Leaves Us Thirsty
Forgoing any more touristy dinners with flamenco or tapas bars, we opt for the Italian restaurant around the corner from our hotel, Garbo. It’s surprisingly inexpensive, and we order up a spinach salad, spaghetti carbonara for me, and veal with potatoes for Lee, with Lambrusco. Everything is tasty, but too salty. Spanish cuisine leaves much to be desired, depending too much on salt and olive oil, but I had thought the Italian restaurant would have avoided the trend. No, we end up thirsty and with high blood pressure, but the dinner is still a lovely event, with Leroy making the best toast ever (yes, we put it out there). The staff is all Brazilian, so we leave saying obrigado/a and smiling ear to ear.

The last dinner, the last euros, the last full day in Europe. The vacation is ending, and we are très très triste, I mean, tan tan triste. This is our 99th blog. It is only fitting that our 100th be the day that we leave Europe and return to North America, that much closer to home, that much closer to real life. A fitting end to an important time in our lives, and the beginning of a new life together. I’ll toast to that.

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Photos

Gaztambide 39
Meli at her old pad

IES Madrid
Meli's study abroad program.

Making ends meet
It's 4pm Wednesday and our flight isn't until 12:15pm Thursday...

Comments

[Eric]

I just spent the last hour slowing reading through and being completely engaged in your Spain blogs. Tons of feelings of nostalgia, both happy and sad filled me as a I read. I enjoyed seeing the familiar spots in Spain, and also felt a sense of loss when you talked about places that no longer exist, or changes that have taken place. It was also moving to hear how your mindset has changed from your 20's to 30's. Thank you both for sharing your worldwide travel experiences and for being an inspiration in my life as well.