Go, Go, Go - Up, Across, and Back in Time

            Since summer is coming to an end (what up autumnal equinox), we needed to take advantage of our weekend in Madrid to do some summery, touristy things. We were ambitious Saturday, heading out at about 1 to go check out the Teleférico. I don’t quite know the word for it in English, so I’ll use the description the Spaniards asking for directions used when they thought we didn’t know what they were talking about: “Teleférico…you know, the big, blue balls in the sky…? …with the people in them?” If for some strange reason, you are still unclear as to what I’m speaking of, please feel free to use the visual aids provided below: 

            Just kidding, it’s called a cable car. (I looked it up. Just kidding, I knew it but just wanted you to have to guess. Just kidding, just kidding, just kidding…) Anyway, Erin and I only felt it necessary to pay for a one way ticket since we’re the cheapest kids we know, however, we were uninformed as to what was waiting for us when we arrived – nothing. Literally not a street in sight; we were basically on top of a mountain. Okay, mountain might be a slight embellishment; I guess it was more of a hill, but it was a big one! Contrary to what the website told me, we were not a 5 minute walk away from a metro station. We were in Casa del Campo, “Madrid’s biggest green area,” aka not civilization. We made our way down the mountain (hill, whatever), and thought we had found a road. FALSE. We found a highway. We were obviously too stubborn to ask anyone what to do and where to go, and just decided to continue walking down a path in what we knew (hoped) was the general direction we had to go. Our conversation quickly turned from things we liked (the views, Madrid, our lives) to things we hated (the views, this part of Madrid, our lives) to reflect our changing moods until suddenly, we saw a bridge! A bridge to take us over the highway and to civilization! Now we were talking about things we loved (bridges)! We crossed over and went to the nearest store for nourishment and human contact. He assured us we were nowhere near a metro station and that we needed to take a bus – I’m all about new forms of public transportation that accept my abono transportes as a means of payment. We walked in the direction we felt most confident and ended up – wait for it – AT THE PLACE WHERE WE TURN AROUND ON OUR RUNS! Not even possible, right? I know. After being baffled/overjoyed, we walked to a bus station and took it back to the circular metro line we know and love. Our adventures, however, didn’t stop there!

            We took the metro not home, but to Retiro, where Margo had rallied a bunch of our group to meet up and go boating on the lake! Erin and I had not yet been to Retiro so this was very exciting. It’s a beautiful, huge park with a lot of cool statues. While I’m sure one would assume as much, Perry, Mike, Erin, and I were pretty fantastic when it came to making maneuvers in our boat on the water. Okay, not entirely true. If I’m going to be honest, Perry was the superstar of our group, calling “Stroke!” like a pro. I think Mike, Erin, and I were all about on the same level of pathetic, although to his credit, Mike was able to execute an impressive oar-to-oar high-five with Robyn’s boat.

            Boating worked up an appetite for us and so Erin and I split a bocadilla de tortilla from one of the shops right by the lake. Delicious is an understatement. There was some ominousness in the sky, so we decided to head back. We went for a run, and after deciding we weren’t going to do anything too exciting, we ended up getting the most dressed up we had yet for some intense discoteca glow party that John, who knows all-that-is-cool, informed us of. (Changing our minds, as Emilio pointed out, is becoming something of a trend.) Angeles left us some delicious chicken and rice and potato salad for dinner, and we got to learn all about what types of music Emilio likes. His sound system is connected to his tv, so he had literally spent the day staring at a blue screen listening to music. He likes Galician music, military music, and Julio Iglesias, although I definitely saw some Simon and Garfunkel in there. We didn’t actually end up getting into the club even though we looked “the most guapa we have yet” (according to Angeles), so unfortunately the outfit went to waste. Ohhhh well.

            It worked out because we ended up getting home moderately early. Since I had heard about it, I had wanted to go Madrid’s famous Rastro (flea market) that it hosts every Sunday. According to Emilio (he doesn’t think Erin and I know anything about the world, which is almost true, so he is constantly giving us history lessons), this tradition has gone on for more than 150 years! I left at 10:30 and Emilio was very worried about my breakfast. “Do you want breakfast?” “No, I’m taking a banana; this will be perfect!” (Okay, fine. Actual translation of what I said: “Banana” with an accompanying hand motion.) “…Does Angeles know about this?” After mumbling an answer and walking out the door before he could stop me, I met Katie downstairs and we headed off to El Rastro. We started in Plaza Mayor where people had tables set up with neat old coins and stamps. It wasn’t very crowded but we had heard that it gets pretty hectic. We followed the general flow of traffic towards where we assumed the clothes and jewelry and antiques would be and suddenly we were in a sea of people! It was immense and overwhelming in the best way possible. It was a bargainer’s paradise. There were scarves, clothes, shoes, jewelry, fans, and so much more! I didn’t bring my camera because Rick (Steves) said you should worry about pickpocketers, but I don’t think I would have been able to capture the atmosphere even if I had brought one. I ended up getting 6 pieces of jewelry (I’m all about accessories) for a total of less than 10 euros spent at several different stands. I did a bit of haggling (it’s the New Yorker in me) and sometimes succeeded! We had a lot of fun and got to practice some Español. I came back and relaxed. Angeles, being cooler than me, went out to the movies with her friend. Emilio prepared a Spanish tortilla for us for dinner, and Angeles left us some chicken. Angeles has already told us that a tortilla is the only thing Emilio can prepare – this further supports the whole I-need-to-learn-how-to-cook-to-keep-a-husband point, because no one can subsist on just tortillas.

            We finally went to bed at a reasonable hour. Shortly after waking up we realized we were actually up an hour earlier than necessary. We looked at each other in despair as we realized Angeles had already heard us and so, being as wonderful as she is, had started preparing us breakfast. We were already worried that we had offended her by asking for a bagged lunch for school the previous night because we wouldn’t be back until 3 (why do you need a bagged lunch? You don’t want to eat at home?), so we didn’t want to risk it by going back to bed. We ended up having a productive morning and getting our errands done before class rather than after. Obviously we were still not the first ones there even though we were a half hour early, but we weren’t the last ones, so we were still pretty happy with ourselves. We continued talking about Spain’s transition to democracy in Core Course (affectionately dubbed cooor-cooorse), which was apparently a pretty lengthy process, but hey, whatever works. After a break during which Nuria and Eva explained another unnecessarily complicated registration process to us, we had Spanish painting. I really like this class. We’re starting to learn about neoclassical art, and its inspirations. My favorite work was something that our professor didn’t actually show us. She was flipping through a powerpoint and I caught a glimpse of a Goya painting that said “El sueño de razón produce monstruos.” The phrase intrigued me and when I tried to look it up, I found it can be interpreted in a few different ways. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sleep_of_Reason_Produces_Monsters) I don’t know, though. At this point, I think sleep of any kind is something to be valued.