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Sandwiched in Madrid
You missed a spot... Madrid
is a city that has all a 10k-er can ask for. Non-stop nightlife that runs straight through sunrise, a trio of world-renowned museums to get confused in, tapas so tasty you´ll forget to leave room for midnight dinner, a lifestyle filled with cinema, parks and festivals and of course, good public transportation. HOWEVER, there is one critical box NOT marked off on the 10k checklist: Late-night eats. Yup, if there´s one thing I will lie, cheat, steal and kill for at the end of the night, it is (contrary to rumor) food.
Which is why I was a bit confused last Friday as I stared at a 1.30€ (roughly $1.75, 10k-mericans) "Jamon y Queso" sandwich in the Cat´s Hostel vending machine at 5am. It was there for the taking, it looked delicious, and me being a "Why not?-There´s-what-you-do-and-there´s-what-you-don´t-do" kind-of-guy, you´d think that sandwich had "10k" written all over it.
But something happened after roaming around the streets for over an hour in search of a snack. When I finally had the solution in front of me, I lost interest. I was content, after all the wandering, to simply KNOW that I could have a bite if I wanted
Paella Party
Comiendo en "La Cueva" to.
"Why are you blogging this?", you ask. Well, because it occured to me a few nights later that the reason I passed on the sandwich was the same reason I passed on MAKING a pass on my sultry bunkmate (let´s call her Mary J. for storytelling purposes) one night after our infamous Hostel Hook-Up rule-breaking battle ("No Roommates").
The night started right that Friday, with the whole hostel crowding around the Cat´s Cave stage to watch a flamenco/hip-hop show by eclectic musician,
Evan Christian. Blending acoustic guitar and flamenco sounds with classics from the likes of 2Pac ("I get around" acoustic was my favorite), Metallica, Dr.Dre and Outkast, the Chi-town native (touring Europe to promote his new album due out in June) rocked the 'Cave' with his unique sounds and wide range. Needless to say, Evan will be getting the nod from the 10kPod as soon as it touches down back home. If you want to hear some samples or read about Evan´s work thus far, check out his site through the link above. You heard it here first.
The group went out afterwards, but I avoided the back-to-back hook-up like Vince Vaughn in "Wedding Crashers". Of
course, similar to Vince, when you´re in the same house, there´s only so much you can do to avoid the inevitable. Which brings us to Saturday´s "Grand Prix of Madrid (Cat´s Hostel)".
After the hostel´s "Paella Party", the group hit the town again in search of a backpacker-friendly (i.e. sandals/shorts ok, no cover, free "chupito") club/bar. The liquor went down fast and heavy, and soon enough Room #18 in Cat´s Hostel was once again looking promising for some late-night purring.
Hours later, as sultry Mary and I tip-toe´d in to our room, we scaled the bunk and started the engines. Having already been through qualifying, the race cars were ready for some sharper turns and improved shifting, but something wasn´t right. Was it the alignment? Traction on the rubber? Nope. Daddy might´ve been mistaken, but I swore I heard two different kitties purring. That´s when my pupils adjusted to the pitch-black room, and I caught the shadow of what appeared to be ANOTHER top bunk, not 10 FEET (about 3m, Global 10k-ers) from us, being shared by TWO backpackers as well. And they were not spectators. What we had on our hands was a second racing team, and
Gentlemen, start your engines...
At last year's European Grand Prix they were WELL past their warm-up lap.
That prompted this whispered exchange between Mary J. and myself:
Mary J: Are they doing it?
10k: I can´t really tell. I think so.
Mary J: Wait... is that a girl and... A GIRL?
10k: Uh... I can´t really tell. I think so (crossing my fingers).
Mary J: I don´t know about (pronounced "a-BOOT" in Canadian, hey) doing this with these people in the same room as us..
10k: (popping the clutch) Hey...why not? (shift gears)
What ensued would make Schumacher and Alonso envious. The engines were revving. The tires were squealing. And every pit stop by either team prompted a small giggle. The Grand Prix of Barcelona was hours away, but based on the average 10k-er´s viewing habits, your TiVo would´ve switched you over to THIS drag race instead.
The race ended in a mad dash too close to call. Team 10k avoided breaking the cuddling rule, so maybe the tiebreaker goes to us, but in the end, we were all winners.
As backpackers, it´s ironic that you burn bridges to create new roads to travel. We quit jobs, put off careers, end relationships, strain our families all for the rush that is the unknown, the off-the-beaten-path destination, the beautiful stranger waiting for you. In the end, you´ll get cut out of wills, have no pension fund, and Mom will grow tired of waiting for that marriage and grandkid, but as 2Pac and Evan would say on a Friday night in Madrid: I get around.
I´ll wrap Madrid up in the next couple of days, after which I´ll blog my stay here in Granada and hope to be up-to-date by the time I leave Sevilla for Portugal next week.
Now if you´ll excuse me, I have a 1.30€ sandwich with "10k" written all over it.
10kJuan
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Paola
non-member comment
Some things never change...
Juanito "10k", I have know you almost my whole life and always remember your zest for life and pure and contagious laughter. I'm so glad to hear you're still livin' la vida loca and enjoying what the world offers, Grand Prix's and everything! :) Cuidate hermanito, Paola