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Published: October 12th 2009
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Paella in Madrid
The Hotel Europa, where we stayed, had arguably one of the best restaurants in the area. We had the seafood paella... mmm. “I’m kidding!” she claimed, after I told her that her I that I was going to name this blog after her perplexing question. We were trying to orientate ourselves, and that’s what she offered up. Oh, mother. I believe you… 😊
I had a lovely weekend with my parents in Madrid, and it could have only been improved with the addition of my long-lost brother, busy toiling away in St. Louis. We missed you, Nick!
Hm, this is becoming disjointed. Perhaps I’ll start at the beginning: Saturday! Lola was eager to get me out of the house on time, and every time she asked me when I wanted breakfast, her suggested time got earlier and earlier. We finally settled on 8:15am, a bit on the safe side knowing my train left at 9:53, and I did end up arriving at the train station about an hour early. I settled into a seat with a copy of National Geographic in Spanish, figuring that if all else failed, I could look at the pictures. When I finally got on the train, the ride was fairly uneventful, though there were a few notable things, such as the individually wrapped jellybean everyone was offered as a snack. Cherry, in case you were wondering. They also showed a French comedy (my favorite, coincidentally) dubbed in Spanish, and I had a fantastic time laughing along with my fellow passengers to parts I remember being funny (joke, joke, I’m not as bad at Spanish as I’m letting on… I swear!) It’s possible you haven’t heard of “Bienvenue Chez les Ch’tis” (I’ve heard it called “Welcome to the Sticks” in English) but this is your official movie recommendation. Go find it. It’s awfully humorous.
But now I digress! The weekend. After an hour-long quest to locate my parents at the “Hotel Europa,” which included a metro-ride to the wrong stop, a Spanish phone call, and the help of an 80-something woman with a cane, I found them! We didn’t waste any time, and set to work finding lunch and doing a bit of exploring. We ended up at the Prado Museum, free on Saturdays, and I did my best impression of a tour guide, since I’d been there twice before. As the visit wore on, I realized something. My sincerest apologies to the art gods, but I was unmistakably bored. I don’t even think that it was because I’d seen it all before, I think I would have felt that way in any other hall of 15th-18th century paintings… too much Jesus, too many kings and queens, too many floor to ceiling paintings depicting a particular scene in the life of so-and-so… BORED. Do I blaspheme? Is that a word? Probably so to both counts. It is slightly more interesting with a tour guide, but quite honestly I’m tired of art museums. Certain things I enjoy, in moderation (such as modern art… so I like modernation? (ha)… sorry, strange mood) but goodness I’m tired of lingering an appropriate amount of time in front of each painting, not really sure what I’m looking at, skipping ahead to the things I recognize and trying to give them the appropriate amount of reverence. This is all part of my new campaign called “being honest with myself.”
Ohhh I digress again. Still with me? I’m apparently feeling quite wordy today, and I apologize for the loquaciousness, but things just keep coming out! We ended the evening with a delicious dinner of seafood paella (so good the langoustines were eyeing me) and another stroll around the area. Aw, parents, I missed you!
Sunday it was up bright and early to see the stamp and coin market at the Plaza Mayor (where, humorously, they were selling US State quarters for 90 Euro cents apiece) and to wander through El Rastro, the largest flea market in Europe, according to Rick Steves. He wasn’t kidding, either, that thing was HUGE, and mom and I took the opportunity to add to our rapidly growing collections of scarves. Then we hustled over to catch the bus to El Escorial with no time to spare, and were met there with a two-hour long wait to get into the palace. Hazards of traveling during the Spanish holiday weekend, I suppose. Once inside, guidebook in hand, I played the guide once again, as well as interpreter and translator, as was so often the case this weekend. Seriously, dad, if you ask me “What’s that sign say?” one more time, it just might push me over the edge… haha… sort of kidding…
Sunday night, oh Sunday night. Now that I think about it, my dad mentioned several times wanting to do a “pub crawl”, but I guessed I just didn’t believe it would actually happen. Surprisingly enough, pub crawl we did, and topped the night off with a visit to a nearby tapas bar with a top-notch bartender. He must have liked us, because we got some free food and drinks, which made for a very happy and lively mom and Lindsey and a very amused dad. ¡Viva España!
And this brings me to MONDAY. Weary of navigating through the bustling streets of Madrid, we spent the day at the Parque de el Retiro, a lovely park with a sizeable lake, all in the middle of the city, and then a ride on the Teleférica, a cable car to the west of the thriving metropolis. But the magic couldn’t last forever, and after lunch the parents deposited me at the metro stop and zoom zoom zoom, a few costly encounters with public transportation and I was back in Sevilla, where I rest now, passing the time while I wait for the internet to start working, if it ever does. In the meantime, Bob and Janelle are passing the time in Madrid tonight, Toledo tomorrow, and then meeting up with me here in my “home town” on Wednesday, where we have an eventful weekend planned. Stay tuned, kids, excitement and adventure await!
*****
What you see above is what I tapped out upon my return to Sevilla, painfully awaiting the appearance of internet (I'm probably addicted, but we'll save that story for another day) and when I didn't yet know what my parents had planned for their evening in Madrid without me. Turns out they had grand plans to get their camera stolen. 😞 While deciding an alternate course of action after their plans of visiting the Palacio Real were thwarted by the fact that it was closed, they were enjoying the nice fall day on a bench in a nearby garden, camera between the two, and when they got up to leave, it had disappeared. A police report was filed and a new camera bought, and it's not likely the old one will turn up anywhere we can find it. Sigh. Pictures: gone. New caution: acquired. Too bad.
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