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Published: November 20th 2005
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The golden library.
The famed library at El Escorial, outside of Madrid. Note: hi all, thanks again for reading. I've added some pictures ot previous entries. Check them out. Keep them comments a'coming. Love them!
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The theme of this episode of my travelblogs is the perpetual quest to find my travel partner, Angela. The story begins with the trip from Barcelona to Madrid, which was maddening, as both Angela and I were worried about and busily working on our take-home finals due Tuesday morning even while the cleaners of the apartment we rented in Barcelona was kicking us out early due to some miscommunications. The four of us hopped on another pleasant Vueling flight and made way to our centrally located hostel in Madrid, being between Puerta del Sol and Plaza Mayor. While Carolina and Sandra made plans to see the town, Angela and I were working away and looking for internet access. At about 11:00pm, she and I hiked to the only internet café known to be open at that hour. Unfortunately it was on the street where prostitutes hang out. Being hissed and grabbed at in public was simply an experience I was not looking for.
After working through most of the night, we turned in our assignments
Cathedral in Toledo.
...even the backside is impressive. the next day. Carolina and Sandra had gone ahead to tour the city, and Angela had yet more assignments to do. So I went on my own to the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza. The museum was converted from an old hospital. While the building was rather unexciting, it housed the famous Guernica by Picasso, as well as works by Van Gogh, Cezanne, Miro, and Dali. Moreover, I was introduced to one my now favorite scuptors, Garganelle. I was simply mesmerized by his work and contemplated how I could possibly steal the art work. Impossible of course, but a fool in love can stop at nothing for the object of his affections. Luckily I did stop when hunger called.
I bought some pastries at the nearby Atocha train station, which is famous for the bombing that occurred on March 11 a few years ago. Incidentally, I was in Madrid the April of the same year and experienced the sorrow and tension that was there then. This time around, the station was much calm. In reflection, I thought of the Iraqi War-related tragedies that have since happened in London, New Delhi, and elsewhere. I don’t think anyone realized how chaotic the world would
Girls in Toledo.
Sandra, Angela, and Carolina chilling out after walking for hours. be in the post-Cold War era. What would be next?
I arrived back in the hostel at 8:00pm, which was when we had agreed to meet for dinner. Everyone but Angela was there. This would be the theme for the trip. At about 8:45pm Angela strolled back and announced that she already ate and that we didn’t have to wait for her. The three of us left, slightly annoyed, and found some food that was only delicious because we were hungry.
The next day the four of us went to Toledo, in the outskirts of Madrid. As I had been there before, I was not quite as excited as the others. Nonetheless, Toledo being one of my favorite cities, the experience was quite nice. I picked a random place for lunch, and it turned out to be quite bad. Carolina sulked the whole time. It was rather difficult to balance Carolina’s preference for taking the time to enjoy good food and Sandra’s preference for fast food and saving time for sightseeing. While Carolina left most of her food untouched, I ate some of hers and drank most of the bad wine. Just because they can’t enjoy the time, I think it was up to me to enjoy for the rest. In any situation, one can choose to be happy or not. I choose happiness. Even as Angela kept wandering off or showing up late and we having to find her, I kept my happy face, even if I did make fun of Angela a few times. After lunch we saw some synagogues, had espresso, but stopped short of going into the cathedral, as we had to pay five euros for it. One becomes tired of cathedrals after seeing a few in Europe, and for business students who would hopefully be getting high-paying jobs, five euros is too much to pay. Instead, we saved our money for some olives and beers at a German brewery.
That night, after a disco nap, we went to a club in Madrid at about midnight to celebrate Carolina’s birthday. Turns out the club was poshly decorated like a palace, complete with ceiling frescos. The music was varied, with American rock-and-roll, Latin beats, Spanish pop, and European techno. The ladies enjoyed dancing the night away with numerous boys from all over Latin America and Europe, while I stood by drinking and taking their photos. At about 4:00am we shut the place down, complete with happy memories and promises to keep the escapade secret (as if!...you know the ladies cannot keep secrets, even their own!).
The next day, Carolina went on her own to lavish some salon time on herself, while Angela studied. Sandra and I went to El Escorial, a monastery outside Madrid. El Escorial was no ordinary monastery. In fact, it was more grand than most palaces I have seen. The cathedral was one of the largest, and the library was gilted to the hilt. The Spanish is known for their religious piety. As far as I can tell, it was just an excuse to spend money on their religious sites.
That night, we surprised Carolina with candle-lit birthday chocolate truffles and mini-cakes. For dinner we had tapas. Halfway through dinner, the server came over to wanr us about keeping out belongings safe. Apparently the people a few tables over just had a purse stolen while they sat. The only time I felt robbed was when the bill came. Food in Europe was simply neither cheap nor plentiful. Europeans are thinner not because they are healthier than Americans. It’s because they can’t afford to eat. Carolina and Angela, on the other hand, had money to burn apparently, so they went to see a flamenco show. Sandra and I elected to head to bed.
The next morning Sandra left to catch a train to Cordoba, while the remaining three of us prepared for our last day in Madrid. Carolina slept in, while I thought I would check out the Royal Palace as I had slept past the time needed for me to make a run around the city as I had planned. Turned out the palace was closed for official functions. I ran into Angela on her way out and reminded her that we were to meet at noon for what I thought was a 3:30pm flight. Back in the hostel room, Carolina and I realized out flight was actually for 1:30pm. Leaving at noon would make us late for the flight, as the train ride to the airport takes an hour. We went around the city looking for Angela. Though unsuccessful, I did inadvertently put in the run around the city that I hoped to do. Carolina and I packed out stuff, checked out of the hostel, and waited Angela outside the hostel. We were panicking at this point, particularly given Angela’s propensity to be late and her needing to make a meeting the next morning for her final exam. The mantra of “where is Angela” became permanently engraved in our heads. Luckily Angela proved us wrong for once, and came back at 11:45am. We ran toward the taxi stand. A cop even stopped for me when he saw my panic-stricken face.
The taxi ride was made quite pleasant as the driver was a rather young and unjaded by years of foreigners asking to driver both faster and safer. In fact he made jokes and told us about the sights we drive by. Apparently he has visited the U.S. and spoke some English, this while I attempted my Spanish on him. We luckily made it to the airport in time and made our flight. One the way back, Carolina and I sat together and watched Herbie the movie, the other passengers staring at us while we laughed out loud. The movie seemed funnier given our good moods, being incredulous that we were actually on our way back to Amsterdam. We rounded off the trip with a harbor-side dinner in Rotterdam. During dinner, the funniest thing was said by Angela, who, apparently lacking self awareness, said “Being on time is important.” Good things happen to those who keep the faith and smile.
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Michael
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Happiness
"I choose happiness." Can I hold you to that?