I realize I have so many stories and events to share from my days in Madrid. I can't believe I have been here almost a week!
I had planned to do some updating this evening but I have been a bit traumatized after attending my first and ONLY bullfight, and needed an escape from reality so tonight I went to the movies. It is Sunday after all, my favorite day to find myself in a theater... even in Spain!
I am in Madrid for a another 36 hours, and then I have a long train ride to Granada so look for updates at the latest Wednesday night.
Buenas noches!
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Pop Quiz
If a man says to you, "Y0u have beautiful eyes" does this mean:
A) Your eyes are so stunning, I can't think of anything else.
B) Your eyes are your best feature.
C) Your eyes are your only feature worth mentioning.
D) That is the only sentence he knows in English.
A) Your eyes are so stunning, I can't think of anything else.
B) Your eyes are your best feature.
C) Your eyes are your only feature worth mentioning.
D) That is the only sentence he knows in English.
Winging It
In my life, wherever it is I wander -- big cities or far off the beaten path -- I meet people. While my beliefs do not allow me to rely on coincidence, or believe that things merely 'happen', I do believe 'life' introduces us to people for a reason. Their purpose may be difficult to understand at first, but I do believe that anytime you meet eyes with someone (keep in mind I am not referring to conversations that take place after 12AM and are alcohol induced) and glimpse a glimmer of their soul (not to be confused with eye-contact) they are meant to play a purpose in your life... obviously some more than others. I do feel that when the focus is on getting to know someone vs. other reasons you may spend time with someone (keeping it PG, friends!) there is more of a true relationship that can develop and that can one day lead to being friends...or playing a role in each other's lives for years to come.
My travels in Spain have have been absolutely beautiful for the situations and people that have come my way -- the boys club in San Sebastian, Mr. Reiki, Pierre, Laura, Sam the Taxi Driver, etc. And while I will say to anyone, "I am truly flying by the seat of my pants"... I know that 'life' has its hand in it some way. My decisions are made purely by me, but I do sense there is an angel -- or many angels -- looking over my shoulder to see that such decisions work out for the best...as I have met many people in extremely odd ways, that are all worth raising an eyebrow.... Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts and roll with it.
Tonight was one of those fun-filled nights that I could not have planned, and truly was relying on the 'God of Randomness' to see that things ended up where they should. (is their a God of Randomness? I think their should be!)
With map in hand and in search of Plaza Sant Ana, I found Frenchie Sam the taxi driver outside this amazing hotel. Totally trendy and gorgeous -- both Sam and the hotel. I had to wonder for a minute what he was doing driving a taxi in Madrid, but I already knew his story.
He is working tonight but wanted to ensure I knew the best streets to in Madrid for drinks, live music, good lounges and overall, places with good vibes. He did not disappoint. Once a brief tour of the area we are into the hotel for a drink, my favorite way of starting the night -- abroad or NYC. The penthouse lounge is amazing, "tres NYC" he kept saying.
(I love how everyone in Europe is all about "NYC"... and here I am roaming their country for a bit!)
The view from above is of the square below, its very quiet and almost tropical feeling with the balmy weather of Madrid and the wind blowing. Very Miami-esque.
Anyway fun times in the Penthouse pursue. Sam is
an 'Aries' (he volunteers this, I did not ask) and truly ALL OVER THE PLACE. Conversation is flying from one topic to the next... he basically tells me his life story, how everyone loves him because he's French and has a crazy accent, that his boss thinks he is amazing....etc. etc. etc. Very lively conversationalist, quite an entertainer, glad he took me under his wing to show me Madrid and be my chauffeur should I need it...however, also secretly glad he is sprinting for his job when the drink is done. People with that kind of energy tend to wear me out, as there is no sense of balance in the conversation. Its all about them, and with them not taking a breath between sentences sometimes its hard for me to do so too. But he said he was an Aries. Definitely spot on. 
I have all of Plaza Sant Ana to enjoy as I may for the rest of the evening. I thought about calling it a night and strolling home, but my heels were killing me. I thought about returning to the hotel as I was craving a Mojito, and I remember seeing that on the menu... And then BAM! Sign says "BEST MOJITOS IN MADRID"... Remember I am the asshole that only believes half of what people say, BUT I bet they are pretty good, so in I bop.
Leave it to me to choose an English speaking bar, but hey, I said I wanted a good conversation tonight so here we go...
I order a mojito (very good choice) and get distracted with news on my blackberry. When I look up a very young someone is trying to say "hello" in every language possible (Hola... hello...What's Up... Que pasa? etc.) I have to smile, which he takes as an intro.
'Matheus' I soon learn is from Brazil, which is a good point for conversation as I loved my time in Brazil (minus that spent in the dental office... but thank god my teeth were not involved!) . He speaks English fairly well... much better than my Spanish skills. He's charming and funny, and has a lot of big questions about life, which I love to see in young people... and older too, but it seems the average inquisitive mind dies at age 27/28... Sad, but seemingly true.
When I run to the loo, I come back to find a rose sitting at 'my table"... whether it should be attributed to the young, or the Spanish, I know not. But I do know it was/is very much appreciated.
Good conversation and a few beers later, I am ready to call it a night. This isn't before making sushi plans for Sunday after the bull-fight... which I am SO excited about on both fronts! (again, sorry my animal loving friends... for the bull-fighting, but sushi is okay, no?)
Sometimes all you need on a Friday night is a starting point, and where the night/road takes you is truly up to you. While tonight started and ended on two totally different vibes, they both made for an interesting mix... and sometimes, mixing it up is what it is all about... at least for me on this Friday, and day marking the start of Spring.
My travels in Spain have have been absolutely beautiful for the situations and people that have come my way -- the boys club in San Sebastian, Mr. Reiki, Pierre, Laura, Sam the Taxi Driver, etc. And while I will say to anyone, "I am truly flying by the seat of my pants"... I know that 'life' has its hand in it some way. My decisions are made purely by me, but I do sense there is an angel -- or many angels -- looking over my shoulder to see that such decisions work out for the best...as I have met many people in extremely odd ways, that are all worth raising an eyebrow.... Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts and roll with it.
Tonight was one of those fun-filled nights that I could not have planned, and truly was relying on the 'God of Randomness' to see that things ended up where they should. (is their a God of Randomness? I think their should be!)
With map in hand and in search of Plaza Sant Ana, I found Frenchie Sam the taxi driver outside this amazing hotel. Totally trendy and gorgeous -- both Sam and the hotel. I had to wonder for a minute what he was doing driving a taxi in Madrid, but I already knew his story.
He is working tonight but wanted to ensure I knew the best streets to in Madrid for drinks, live music, good lounges and overall, places with good vibes. He did not disappoint. Once a brief tour of the area we are into the hotel for a drink, my favorite way of starting the night -- abroad or NYC. The penthouse lounge is amazing, "tres NYC" he kept saying.
(I love how everyone in Europe is all about "NYC"... and here I am roaming their country for a bit!)
The view from above is of the square below, its very quiet and almost tropical feeling with the balmy weather of Madrid and the wind blowing. Very Miami-esque.
Anyway fun times in the Penthouse pursue. Sam is
an 'Aries' (he volunteers this, I did not ask) and truly ALL OVER THE PLACE. Conversation is flying from one topic to the next... he basically tells me his life story, how everyone loves him because he's French and has a crazy accent, that his boss thinks he is amazing....etc. etc. etc. Very lively conversationalist, quite an entertainer, glad he took me under his wing to show me Madrid and be my chauffeur should I need it...however, also secretly glad he is sprinting for his job when the drink is done. People with that kind of energy tend to wear me out, as there is no sense of balance in the conversation. Its all about them, and with them not taking a breath between sentences sometimes its hard for me to do so too. But he said he was an Aries. Definitely spot on. I have all of Plaza Sant Ana to enjoy as I may for the rest of the evening. I thought about calling it a night and strolling home, but my heels were killing me. I thought about returning to the hotel as I was craving a Mojito, and I remember seeing that on the menu... And then BAM! Sign says "BEST MOJITOS IN MADRID"... Remember I am the asshole that only believes half of what people say, BUT I bet they are pretty good, so in I bop.
Leave it to me to choose an English speaking bar, but hey, I said I wanted a good conversation tonight so here we go...
I order a mojito (very good choice) and get distracted with news on my blackberry. When I look up a very young someone is trying to say "hello" in every language possible (Hola... hello...What's Up... Que pasa? etc.) I have to smile, which he takes as an intro.
'Matheus' I soon learn is from Brazil, which is a good point for conversation as I loved my time in Brazil (minus that spent in the dental office... but thank god my teeth were not involved!) . He speaks English fairly well... much better than my Spanish skills. He's charming and funny, and has a lot of big questions about life, which I love to see in young people... and older too, but it seems the average inquisitive mind dies at age 27/28... Sad, but seemingly true.
When I run to the loo, I come back to find a rose sitting at 'my table"... whether it should be attributed to the young, or the Spanish, I know not. But I do know it was/is very much appreciated.
Good conversation and a few beers later, I am ready to call it a night. This isn't before making sushi plans for Sunday after the bull-fight... which I am SO excited about on both fronts! (again, sorry my animal loving friends... for the bull-fighting, but sushi is okay, no?)
Sometimes all you need on a Friday night is a starting point, and where the night/road takes you is truly up to you. While tonight started and ended on two totally different vibes, they both made for an interesting mix... and sometimes, mixing it up is what it is all about... at least for me on this Friday, and day marking the start of Spring.
Back in Business
With Father’s Day behind us, everything reopened on Friday morning, meaning museums and other cultural feats were now an option.
In the morning I tried for 30 minutes to get a ticket for Sunday’s bullfight and got fed up with the online service and went to find someone who could sell me a ticket. I should have taken the trial-and-error experience as a sign that maybe this wasn’t something I wanted to do…but that was not in the cards. And after a trip to Plaza Major and then to the ticket outlet itself, I had my ticket and felt like it was my lucky day. Plus, it was 20Euros less than online. Perfecto.
I was navigating this magnanimous city fairly well. After a long run to the park and back to my room that morning, I had a good sense of where things were, and if I got lost, I had my map.
Wandering through Madrid, I made a few phone calls to those I owed calls to. One being Jose from Barcelona, and low and behold, he just happened to be in Madrid too. Plans were made for Saturday and I was off to see the sites.
I had planned to visit the Thyssen museum and the Reine Sofia that day, and take a break in the afternoon to be lazy in the park.
(My favorite spot in Retiro)
The Thyssen had an incredible exhibit on ‘shadows’ or “la sombra”, which I loved. And the permanent collection was nice too, including several Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s, and Picasso’s I had never seen. I spent almost 3 hours inside, and once out in the sun I needed a quiet place to write and perhaps a glass of wine. The Palace Hotel was beckoning me so I found a table, ordered a drink and found the quiet time I needed. The day could not have been more gorgeous.
(interior view of the Palace)
(Tell me, does this remind you of a post-office?)
Now, time for Reine Sofia. This experience was set in an old hospital, and trust me I got the vibe immediately. Instead of visiting patients you visit paintings, drawings and other pieces. It was all poorly organized, no maps or signs of direction, some rooms were numbered, some were not… chaos, my friends, chaos. (Hopefully the hospitals in Spain are more organized than this!)
But even in chaos, you can find intriguing pieces, and I did. There were several Garcia’s, that I have always enjoyed seeing after spending time in Montevideo. There was a ton of Picasso’s work -- much of it really large panels. There were interesting works by Miro, el Greco and Goya, and a special exhibit by a New Yorker whose name escapes me now. I enjoyed my time, but the scattered layout really zapped my energy, and I was off to Plaza Major for a glass of sangria and to watch the tourists.
(Plaza Major)
Plaza Major is always packed in the evenings, and at most times of the day. Mostly tourists, but also artists, musicians and locals come to the large enclosed area to see what is going on inside. I found a table and glass of sangria and did a bit of writing. I guess I was there too long, as I realized I was meeting a friend in an hour and I had NO CLUE how to get to the selected location.
I ran to my hotel, changed quickly and got directions to Plaza Sant Ana. I was told it would take 20 minutes, walking. Yeah, right. These Madrilenos are so slow…
(I made it to the top of the ME hotel in less than 20 minutes...)
In the morning I tried for 30 minutes to get a ticket for Sunday’s bullfight and got fed up with the online service and went to find someone who could sell me a ticket. I should have taken the trial-and-error experience as a sign that maybe this wasn’t something I wanted to do…but that was not in the cards. And after a trip to Plaza Major and then to the ticket outlet itself, I had my ticket and felt like it was my lucky day. Plus, it was 20Euros less than online. Perfecto.
I was navigating this magnanimous city fairly well. After a long run to the park and back to my room that morning, I had a good sense of where things were, and if I got lost, I had my map.
Wandering through Madrid, I made a few phone calls to those I owed calls to. One being Jose from Barcelona, and low and behold, he just happened to be in Madrid too. Plans were made for Saturday and I was off to see the sites.
I had planned to visit the Thyssen museum and the Reine Sofia that day, and take a break in the afternoon to be lazy in the park.
(My favorite spot in Retiro)The Thyssen had an incredible exhibit on ‘shadows’ or “la sombra”, which I loved. And the permanent collection was nice too, including several Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s, and Picasso’s I had never seen. I spent almost 3 hours inside, and once out in the sun I needed a quiet place to write and perhaps a glass of wine. The Palace Hotel was beckoning me so I found a table, ordered a drink and found the quiet time I needed. The day could not have been more gorgeous.
(interior view of the Palace)In wandering Calle Recoletos, I stumbled upon the Department of Communicacion, otherwise known as the Post Office. Keep in mind this looks like a smaller version of the Real Palace, where a prince would live, NOT wear you would go to post a letter. But everything in Spain is amazingly beautiful, so why not the post office too? So I wander in... or at least try. Ten doors later, I found one that allowed you to actually go inside. I wander to the one of the 10 empty desks, and I am told to take a ticket. Keep in mind there is NO ONE, literally NO ONE, in the place. So I take my ticket, and have a seat. In two days, I have learned NOTHING moves quickly in Spain. I have to wait 10 minutes before my number flashes on the screen. And slowly I helped with my purchase, and I am now the proud owner of 20 Spanish Stamps! (Postcards are in the mail!)
(Tell me, does this remind you of a post-office?)Now, time for Reine Sofia. This experience was set in an old hospital, and trust me I got the vibe immediately. Instead of visiting patients you visit paintings, drawings and other pieces. It was all poorly organized, no maps or signs of direction, some rooms were numbered, some were not… chaos, my friends, chaos. (Hopefully the hospitals in Spain are more organized than this!)
But even in chaos, you can find intriguing pieces, and I did. There were several Garcia’s, that I have always enjoyed seeing after spending time in Montevideo. There was a ton of Picasso’s work -- much of it really large panels. There were interesting works by Miro, el Greco and Goya, and a special exhibit by a New Yorker whose name escapes me now. I enjoyed my time, but the scattered layout really zapped my energy, and I was off to Plaza Major for a glass of sangria and to watch the tourists.
(Plaza Major)Plaza Major is always packed in the evenings, and at most times of the day. Mostly tourists, but also artists, musicians and locals come to the large enclosed area to see what is going on inside. I found a table and glass of sangria and did a bit of writing. I guess I was there too long, as I realized I was meeting a friend in an hour and I had NO CLUE how to get to the selected location.
I ran to my hotel, changed quickly and got directions to Plaza Sant Ana. I was told it would take 20 minutes, walking. Yeah, right. These Madrilenos are so slow…
(I made it to the top of the ME hotel in less than 20 minutes...)
More Madness from Madrid
Today was an awesome day. It always seems that Fridays are the best with lots of communication and a twist of fate/destiny whichever you believe in.
I will elaborate more on today's activities later, but sticking with the "Madness" theme here is an interesting story.
After getting a ticket for Sunday's bull-fight, (Hey, sorry animal lovers, its a national past-time and I wasn't thinking about it like that... but since I have a ticket...please forgive?) I had a bit of a walk and decided to put in some calls to those I owed calls too.
One being Mr. Reiki from Barcelona. I had hoped to send an email with a quick note 'thanks for curing my asthma' but given that his card had either been tossed or lost, I could not do that. I still had his phone number so that was the option I was left with. I know some would say why bother? But I like to feel I was raised right and when someone does something nice for you, you always say thank you. Regardless how simple. So I could not let this go.
So one ring and I have Reiki on the phone, "My dear, I have missed you! I was going to call you, I want you to join me on Canary Reef..." Whatever, my point was to simply thank him and be off. No such luck.
In telling him why I had not called earlier I mention the word "Madrid". "YOU ARE IN MADRID??!!! My dear, it is our destiny, you will never believe it but I AM IN MADRID! You must let me take you out tonight and show you the town. We will have fabulous fun!" (this guy talks like he is gay... or just Spanish, in English)
First off, this guy is NOT my destiny... my destined tour guide maybe.
Secondly, I have plans tonight.
No deterring this Spaniard, Saturday was better for him anyway, so we are going "out on the town to have FABULOUS FUN!" Definitely look for bouts of hilarity stemming from tomorrow night. I am set for a riot. Not to mention, I would like a night out in Madrid that doesn't involve muscle shirts and Mad Hatters breaking it down to Brittany Spears.
But for now I best get going. I have to find some plaza to meet Frenchie for a drink... or maybe its dinner. They eat so late here!
Hasta luego!
I will elaborate more on today's activities later, but sticking with the "Madness" theme here is an interesting story.
After getting a ticket for Sunday's bull-fight, (Hey, sorry animal lovers, its a national past-time and I wasn't thinking about it like that... but since I have a ticket...please forgive?) I had a bit of a walk and decided to put in some calls to those I owed calls too.
One being Mr. Reiki from Barcelona. I had hoped to send an email with a quick note 'thanks for curing my asthma' but given that his card had either been tossed or lost, I could not do that. I still had his phone number so that was the option I was left with. I know some would say why bother? But I like to feel I was raised right and when someone does something nice for you, you always say thank you. Regardless how simple. So I could not let this go.
So one ring and I have Reiki on the phone, "My dear, I have missed you! I was going to call you, I want you to join me on Canary Reef..." Whatever, my point was to simply thank him and be off. No such luck.
In telling him why I had not called earlier I mention the word "Madrid". "YOU ARE IN MADRID??!!! My dear, it is our destiny, you will never believe it but I AM IN MADRID! You must let me take you out tonight and show you the town. We will have fabulous fun!" (this guy talks like he is gay... or just Spanish, in English)
First off, this guy is NOT my destiny... my destined tour guide maybe.
Secondly, I have plans tonight.
No deterring this Spaniard, Saturday was better for him anyway, so we are going "out on the town to have FABULOUS FUN!" Definitely look for bouts of hilarity stemming from tomorrow night. I am set for a riot. Not to mention, I would like a night out in Madrid that doesn't involve muscle shirts and Mad Hatters breaking it down to Brittany Spears.
But for now I best get going. I have to find some plaza to meet Frenchie for a drink... or maybe its dinner. They eat so late here!
Hasta luego!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
This Little Piggy Went to Market...
So today, after my fantastical evening, I got up and had an easy plan to stroll around Madrid. Its Father's Day here so everything is closed except for restaurants.
While I had my coffee and croissant, I decided since all the museums I wanted to visit were closed I would follow the Madrid "Historical Walking Tour" step-by-step. Literally. I figure I would see most of Madrid's historical venues (so it was slightly academic) and I would try and beat the 2 hour walking time suggested (making it slightly physical). Keep in mind, when traveling I usually make up my own tour/map of city... which usually leads to several retracks and stopping for directions. So my plan for the day was kind of test for future cities.
Anyway, ten minutes into the tour I have found Plaza Sol, the oldest chapel in Madrid, and have found a cafe where the guidebook suggests having the famous churros dipped in chocolate. Why not? Its lunch time, and sometimes you gotta have a little fun at meal time. Dear lord, if only I knew how decadent and intoxicating these things are. Y-u-m-m-y.
On a sugar high, I go running after a few more steeples, plazas, fountains, views and castle. Things are going well. I have the map down, I am in line to finish in less than 20 minutes, making the total time including lunch 1 hour 45. But now the guide suggests having "a proper lunch" at Cafe de Oriente, which is a beautiful plaza, so why not? Its bright and sunny and I could go for a salad and a glass of vino blanco in the sun. So that is what I do, except one glass turns into two, and I don't finish the tour as estimated, but I am enjoying the sunny day, so I keep going (with the tour, not the wine).
More sights, cool things, great statues of Don Quixote, a trip of la via Grande and back to Plaza Major, where the book is suggesting eating AGAIN. Whoever wrote this thing, do you realize NO ONE EATS EVERY 30 MINUTES? And I had skipped two spots they suggested having drinks! Basically if you follow the plan, you spend 7 hours on this tour, 5.5 eating and drinking. Makes you wonder who supported the writing of the book -- Madrid's chamber of commerce or Madrid's Restaurant and Bar association?
All kiddng aside, the tour was ideal, the suggestions for drinks and food were excellent. And while I will not be doing Walking Tour #2 tomorrow, I may revisit the guidebook for suggestions in my other Spanish destinatations. Great way to get oriented...And completely stuffed and slightly tipsy!
For a dinner, I did stick around Plaza Major for moules frites at a Belgian restaurant just off Calle de Julio 7, but this was after a few more hours of wandering aimlessly enjoying the perfect weather.
While I had my coffee and croissant, I decided since all the museums I wanted to visit were closed I would follow the Madrid "Historical Walking Tour" step-by-step. Literally. I figure I would see most of Madrid's historical venues (so it was slightly academic) and I would try and beat the 2 hour walking time suggested (making it slightly physical). Keep in mind, when traveling I usually make up my own tour/map of city... which usually leads to several retracks and stopping for directions. So my plan for the day was kind of test for future cities.
Anyway, ten minutes into the tour I have found Plaza Sol, the oldest chapel in Madrid, and have found a cafe where the guidebook suggests having the famous churros dipped in chocolate. Why not? Its lunch time, and sometimes you gotta have a little fun at meal time. Dear lord, if only I knew how decadent and intoxicating these things are. Y-u-m-m-y.
On a sugar high, I go running after a few more steeples, plazas, fountains, views and castle. Things are going well. I have the map down, I am in line to finish in less than 20 minutes, making the total time including lunch 1 hour 45. But now the guide suggests having "a proper lunch" at Cafe de Oriente, which is a beautiful plaza, so why not? Its bright and sunny and I could go for a salad and a glass of vino blanco in the sun. So that is what I do, except one glass turns into two, and I don't finish the tour as estimated, but I am enjoying the sunny day, so I keep going (with the tour, not the wine).
More sights, cool things, great statues of Don Quixote, a trip of la via Grande and back to Plaza Major, where the book is suggesting eating AGAIN. Whoever wrote this thing, do you realize NO ONE EATS EVERY 30 MINUTES? And I had skipped two spots they suggested having drinks! Basically if you follow the plan, you spend 7 hours on this tour, 5.5 eating and drinking. Makes you wonder who supported the writing of the book -- Madrid's chamber of commerce or Madrid's Restaurant and Bar association?
All kiddng aside, the tour was ideal, the suggestions for drinks and food were excellent. And while I will not be doing Walking Tour #2 tomorrow, I may revisit the guidebook for suggestions in my other Spanish destinatations. Great way to get oriented...And completely stuffed and slightly tipsy!
For a dinner, I did stick around Plaza Major for moules frites at a Belgian restaurant just off Calle de Julio 7, but this was after a few more hours of wandering aimlessly enjoying the perfect weather.
Madrid Madness...Or should I say Fantasy?
Yesterday when I got to Madrid, I took a cab to my hotel checked in and laid down for a 15 minute cat nap. Wrong. Four hours later I woke up...obviously, I was a little more exhausted than I thought! Feeling like I had slept the day away I popped up and bounded out the door, guide book in tow. I texted my Madrid contact -- Javier -- to let him know I am alive and ready to play when he finishes with his interview, and then focused on getting up Calle Toledo to Plaza Major to at least see something. Dusk was setting on Madrid so my timing could not have been more perfect. 
The plaza was bustling with tourists, and the city had a great vibe. I knew/know I am going to enjoy my time here. I have arrangements through Saturday, but that can always be changed -- one of the joys of traveling solo!
Just as I was exiting the Plaza, Javier called telling me he would be at my hotel in 20 minutes. Excellent. I was starving. With my "cat nap" I had missed lunch, and for breakfast I had a coffee on the train and a serrano and manchego sandwich, which is substantial, but not for both breakfast and lunch.
He showed up at Hotel Ganivet looking like the Easter Bunny -- khaki suit, lavender shirt, and flowered tie. Javier is gay, not that one would think any different on first glance, but its good to know this as the night went forth.
So we get into his "teal" car and head to the "trendiest" part of Madrid, also known as the "Chelsea" of Madrid. When we get out of the car, he points out several streets for shopping that I can take in later on my own and head to a restaurant, "Lateral". I let him order for us, as I could eat anything at this point...I was simply ravenous. Salads and small plates later, he leans back for a cigarette and I am still hungry. So more small plates for me, and then la cuenta. And then coffee's at his friends place.
Javier tells me he is going out dancing and asks if I want to come. Sure. I mean what else do I have to do tomorrow? And sleeping all afternoon put me in an ideal position to stay out to all hours. So "Yes", lets go dancing.
We stop at my hotel and I throw on a more dance friendly dress. We go to Javier's mom's house (apparently its common to still live at home at 31 in Spain) and he changes from his Easter Sunday outfit to white muscle shirt, jeans, sneakers and a b-ball cap.
One look at him and I knew I was in for something new tonight. When he mentioned the club was called "Fantasy"... well, I knew it would be someone's fantasy, just maybe not mine. Good lord, as we waited for his friends, I just watched the people in line waiting to get in. There were two types. 1) Men of all ages, with EXTREMELY tight jeans, bulging biceps and shirts to show off their 'guns', chiseled features obviously fresh from a facial 4-5 days ago. 2) women with plastic bodies... and some I am not 100% were women...at least originally.
Needless to say, I was probably the only straight person going in 'Fantasy' tonight. But hey, when in Rome... and I payed my entrance, checked my coat and got my drink of vodka with a bottle of tonic on the side (????).
Inside was more fantastical than the line outside. Now all the muscle shirts were dancing together, very closely.
Now when I go to clubs I do one of two things 1) become a fly on the wall 2) become whatever the flies on the wall are watching.
Tonight was definitely a night for Mode Numero Uno. It was wild. Keep in mind we did not get there until 2AM... it did not open til 12:30AM... and we were not leaving for a while. Well, Javier wasn't. I told him I may head out around 4 or so, after practicing 5,000 times what I would tell the cabbie.
Anyway, Javier had fun dancing. I had fun watching 'everything' dancing... half of the people on the dance floor were not real. I mean, one man was wearing a Mad-hatters outfit! Fun times, I tell ya.
So out on the street, I grab a cab. I must say, the people I meet in these 'incidents' is quite comical and you really can't say its coincidental when it happens so often. So Mr. Cab Driver is named Sam and speaks English fairly well, he is French and conversation piece to conversation piece I quickly learn that he is in Madrid getting his PhD, after walking out of a relationship in Paris, and plans to move to the Canary Islands when he graduates. We commiserate break-up stories... which I am realizing more and more that tons of people call-off engagements, and a few that I have met have called off marriages.
Anyway, Sam seems more normal than Mr. Reiki with the licking fetish, and when he gives me his card, I willingly accept it.
After 10 days of spotty English/Spanish conversations I could go for a good chat.
As long as the suggested venue is not named 'Fantasy', I am game.
The plaza was bustling with tourists, and the city had a great vibe. I knew/know I am going to enjoy my time here. I have arrangements through Saturday, but that can always be changed -- one of the joys of traveling solo!
Just as I was exiting the Plaza, Javier called telling me he would be at my hotel in 20 minutes. Excellent. I was starving. With my "cat nap" I had missed lunch, and for breakfast I had a coffee on the train and a serrano and manchego sandwich, which is substantial, but not for both breakfast and lunch.
He showed up at Hotel Ganivet looking like the Easter Bunny -- khaki suit, lavender shirt, and flowered tie. Javier is gay, not that one would think any different on first glance, but its good to know this as the night went forth.
So we get into his "teal" car and head to the "trendiest" part of Madrid, also known as the "Chelsea" of Madrid. When we get out of the car, he points out several streets for shopping that I can take in later on my own and head to a restaurant, "Lateral". I let him order for us, as I could eat anything at this point...I was simply ravenous. Salads and small plates later, he leans back for a cigarette and I am still hungry. So more small plates for me, and then la cuenta. And then coffee's at his friends place.
Javier tells me he is going out dancing and asks if I want to come. Sure. I mean what else do I have to do tomorrow? And sleeping all afternoon put me in an ideal position to stay out to all hours. So "Yes", lets go dancing.
We stop at my hotel and I throw on a more dance friendly dress. We go to Javier's mom's house (apparently its common to still live at home at 31 in Spain) and he changes from his Easter Sunday outfit to white muscle shirt, jeans, sneakers and a b-ball cap.
One look at him and I knew I was in for something new tonight. When he mentioned the club was called "Fantasy"... well, I knew it would be someone's fantasy, just maybe not mine. Good lord, as we waited for his friends, I just watched the people in line waiting to get in. There were two types. 1) Men of all ages, with EXTREMELY tight jeans, bulging biceps and shirts to show off their 'guns', chiseled features obviously fresh from a facial 4-5 days ago. 2) women with plastic bodies... and some I am not 100% were women...at least originally.
Needless to say, I was probably the only straight person going in 'Fantasy' tonight. But hey, when in Rome... and I payed my entrance, checked my coat and got my drink of vodka with a bottle of tonic on the side (????).
Inside was more fantastical than the line outside. Now all the muscle shirts were dancing together, very closely.
Now when I go to clubs I do one of two things 1) become a fly on the wall 2) become whatever the flies on the wall are watching.
Tonight was definitely a night for Mode Numero Uno. It was wild. Keep in mind we did not get there until 2AM... it did not open til 12:30AM... and we were not leaving for a while. Well, Javier wasn't. I told him I may head out around 4 or so, after practicing 5,000 times what I would tell the cabbie.
Anyway, Javier had fun dancing. I had fun watching 'everything' dancing... half of the people on the dance floor were not real. I mean, one man was wearing a Mad-hatters outfit! Fun times, I tell ya.
So out on the street, I grab a cab. I must say, the people I meet in these 'incidents' is quite comical and you really can't say its coincidental when it happens so often. So Mr. Cab Driver is named Sam and speaks English fairly well, he is French and conversation piece to conversation piece I quickly learn that he is in Madrid getting his PhD, after walking out of a relationship in Paris, and plans to move to the Canary Islands when he graduates. We commiserate break-up stories... which I am realizing more and more that tons of people call-off engagements, and a few that I have met have called off marriages.
Anyway, Sam seems more normal than Mr. Reiki with the licking fetish, and when he gives me his card, I willingly accept it.
After 10 days of spotty English/Spanish conversations I could go for a good chat.
As long as the suggested venue is not named 'Fantasy', I am game.
Thoughts for a Trainful Wednesday
I awoke to a very sensitive soul this morning. For some reason this morning in the quick taxi ride to the train station, the thought of dating in NYC again hit me. Something about Mr. Cabbie helping me with my bags and helping me into the car, made me realize that at some point in my life I am going to want someone to help me with more than my bags and the things that are just too heavy that I struggle with. At some point, I am going to want more than a friend I can be silly with. At some point, I am going to want more from a man than I have allowed myself to admit since 2009 began. And to get there, that means dating again in NYC.
Just the thought almost brought on a panic attack. Dating in the city can be such a chore. All of these nuances to figure out, which signals are being sent… and more importantly which are being received.I think part of this is a result of being away and having some time to climb down off my high-horse and be a little bit more real in the ten days I have been here bounding around Europe. And I know that when I get back to Manhattan it will be different than when I left. For the two months I was there – fresh off a broken engagement, ready to party and just have fun, spending all kinds of money because I could, giving any cute guy my phone number (usually multiple in one night) because hey, if they didn’t act quickly, my cell just might not work in a week or two! – I was foot-loose and fancy free. I had an exit strategy… I was headed to Europe for two months. Sayonara, sweetie, see ya in June.
But when I get back, its not going to be the same. I will have an apartment of my own, and my PO Box can go away. I will return to my ways of being more selective about who I spend my time with. Return to balancing a job with my social life (the operative word here being BALANCE). Return to living on a budget and every weekend not being a giant free-for-all. Return to a world where not everyone wants to know I am just out of a three year relationship where I cancelled the wedding. Return to the dreams and goals I have for myself, many of which do not involve staying out to 4AM or spending the entire weekend day-drinking.
In the time I have had to think about my life once I return, I see all these plans that were left in mid-stream at some point along the the three-year journey to this moment, that are now staring at me ready to be put back into play. Running so much while I am here has me thinking of the physical-challenge of the NYC marathon, maybe even as early as this year. There has always been the PhD card that I have always tossed around, and maybe its time I get going on that. There’s the creative me that really wants to start working towards getting published – it may be fiction, but hey, its published! Then there is the maternal me who wants a family life and a real home, and the two golden retrievers at a warm place in the sun.
As I stare at the bright blue skies and the deep green of the trees merging into one another outside of the train window, I feel like the world is trying to say to me “contrast, my dear, its all about contrast”. And I know it is… Party Paige had her time of absolute abandon, my restless spirit is now getting her day in the sun, and the ambitious, career-driven me as well as “Mommy Paige” as my interns often call me, will all have their day too. One phase just makes the next seem more meaningful as you know life on the flipside, and from one you can appreciate the next. There will come a day when all parts of me can cohabitate in the same body without drowning each other out.
But today is NOT that day. And until that day arrives, I will keep traveling, I will keep searching, I will keep hoping that one step in front of the other will lead me to the life I always wanted. Until then, there is Spain, and then France, and then Italy and then Greece, and then Turkey if I have time…So much to see before I even have to start thinking of another tiny village apt, graduate degrees or life beyond May 14, 2009.
Just the thought almost brought on a panic attack. Dating in the city can be such a chore. All of these nuances to figure out, which signals are being sent… and more importantly which are being received.I think part of this is a result of being away and having some time to climb down off my high-horse and be a little bit more real in the ten days I have been here bounding around Europe. And I know that when I get back to Manhattan it will be different than when I left. For the two months I was there – fresh off a broken engagement, ready to party and just have fun, spending all kinds of money because I could, giving any cute guy my phone number (usually multiple in one night) because hey, if they didn’t act quickly, my cell just might not work in a week or two! – I was foot-loose and fancy free. I had an exit strategy… I was headed to Europe for two months. Sayonara, sweetie, see ya in June.
But when I get back, its not going to be the same. I will have an apartment of my own, and my PO Box can go away. I will return to my ways of being more selective about who I spend my time with. Return to balancing a job with my social life (the operative word here being BALANCE). Return to living on a budget and every weekend not being a giant free-for-all. Return to a world where not everyone wants to know I am just out of a three year relationship where I cancelled the wedding. Return to the dreams and goals I have for myself, many of which do not involve staying out to 4AM or spending the entire weekend day-drinking.
In the time I have had to think about my life once I return, I see all these plans that were left in mid-stream at some point along the the three-year journey to this moment, that are now staring at me ready to be put back into play. Running so much while I am here has me thinking of the physical-challenge of the NYC marathon, maybe even as early as this year. There has always been the PhD card that I have always tossed around, and maybe its time I get going on that. There’s the creative me that really wants to start working towards getting published – it may be fiction, but hey, its published! Then there is the maternal me who wants a family life and a real home, and the two golden retrievers at a warm place in the sun.
As I stare at the bright blue skies and the deep green of the trees merging into one another outside of the train window, I feel like the world is trying to say to me “contrast, my dear, its all about contrast”. And I know it is… Party Paige had her time of absolute abandon, my restless spirit is now getting her day in the sun, and the ambitious, career-driven me as well as “Mommy Paige” as my interns often call me, will all have their day too. One phase just makes the next seem more meaningful as you know life on the flipside, and from one you can appreciate the next. There will come a day when all parts of me can cohabitate in the same body without drowning each other out.
But today is NOT that day. And until that day arrives, I will keep traveling, I will keep searching, I will keep hoping that one step in front of the other will lead me to the life I always wanted. Until then, there is Spain, and then France, and then Italy and then Greece, and then Turkey if I have time…So much to see before I even have to start thinking of another tiny village apt, graduate degrees or life beyond May 14, 2009.
Scent of a Man
My sense of smell is in overdrive these days. I can walk into a hotel room and tell if it was EVER smoked in. I can tell what kind of wine was used in a glass of sangria. I can tell if a dress I want to wear can go another day before adding it to the 'need to wash' pile. And I can smell a fresh fruit stand four blocks away. I think its just Mother Nature's way of ensuring safe and fresh smelling travels!
Anyway, the two smells that I have been digging since I entered Europe are:
1) The tiny, tiny yellow flowers that grow in small bunches and are in every park I enter (something similar to honeysuckle)
2) A specific type of man's cologne, not that I know the name, but its heavenly. It must be universal and very popular, as a guy I dated earlier this year in the States was a frequent wearer and I just loved it.
Anyway, in my less than 24 hours in Bilbao, these two scents were EVERYWHERE. Probably the only thing the city had going for it unrelated to the Guggenheim.
Anyway, the two smells that I have been digging since I entered Europe are:
1) The tiny, tiny yellow flowers that grow in small bunches and are in every park I enter (something similar to honeysuckle)
2) A specific type of man's cologne, not that I know the name, but its heavenly. It must be universal and very popular, as a guy I dated earlier this year in the States was a frequent wearer and I just loved it.
Anyway, in my less than 24 hours in Bilbao, these two scents were EVERYWHERE. Probably the only thing the city had going for it unrelated to the Guggenheim.
Bilbao
I am glad I made a stop in Bilbao to see the Guggenheim and enjoy a morning run by the river. I can’t say that I will be planning to stop here again, unless something work related brings me here.
For me the town/city felt dead. Everything was a struggle. From getting a taxi at the bus station yesterday to checking into my room with the woman who all she could say was “Non contiendo”. I get it, you don’t understand. Trust me, I don’t either.
There seems to be some universal European custom that if you are ONE PERSON, you can only stay in a room with ONE BED. This has happened to me before in my previous travels, but the woman last night was incredulous. I seriously thought she was going to call the American consulate to come have my head examined. “UNA PERSONA?” “DOS (insert word for bed here)?”
I felt like Carrie Bradshaw in the last episode of Sex in the City.
There are some words that translate well, which I think of as universal, and if I can read them from a sign on the wall in about 6 different languages, the pronunciation usually is not that difficult. Those words are “credit card”, “train”, “taxi”, “water”, minutes, “attention”… and of course others, but for this story this is all that we need.
This morning I got up for a quick run to see the Ghery building the Guggenheim is housed in one more time, as when I left last night it was dusk and I thought the view this morning would be nice. As I am leaving the hotel, the woman who runs it was outside smoking (maybe that explains why the WHOLE PLACE smelled of cigarettes), while blowing smoke into the breakfast area (I thought this should have been in the reverse, but my thinking and the way of life here were simply NOT JIVING so I just went with it).
When I returned from a quick run, I found Miss Cigarettes again, this time prepared with tools to ensure the conversation ended with “comprende”. I had a map of Bilbao, a notepad and a pen.
I took the map and circled the hotel, “aqui”. I then circled the train station. I next pointed to myself, and then the hotel, “I am here”… I want to go to the train station, and then wrote the word taxi followed by 30 minutos. She kind of got it, and when I had showered and pulled through with my bags she said “taxi – tre minutos”. Yeah… victory!
Paying was a whole other issue involving a lot of “a dei mios”. Trust me lady, my thoughts exactly.
Everyone here seems put out by tourists, or maybe its just me they are not too thrilled with. At the Guggenheim they seemed to get it…anywhere else (minus the ice cream man last night) forgettaboutit. Even the men working at the hotel… never heard of the world chilvalry – must be something that doesn’t translate well.
I don’t pull the damsel in distress card too often, but when you see a woman heaving a bag down a set of winding crooked steps, you help her. Hell, I do it whenever I see ANYONE (man or woman) lugging something too heavy for them. This morning THREE men watched me nearly fall down the steps. Granted, it might have been a funny site to see… but come on, help a girl out. I think its just common sense.
So now I am on the train and bound for Madrid. My friend Sarah has arranged for me for me to meet up with her friend Javier for a few days for him to show me the sites. I am looking forward to being in a bigger city for a few days after this small town feel. If there is a beach, I seem to fit well with the city’s energy. A town in the valley set by a river? Not so much.
I have heard great things about Madrid and have arranged to stay three nights… and maybe longer. Sometime while I am here I want to see a bull-fight, and Madrid may just be the place.
For now I have a 5 hour ride to Madrid, and I think I would be wise to teach myself some Spanish so I feel a bit about better about myself. As right now I am just waiting for my “dunce” cap so I can go sit in the corner.
For me the town/city felt dead. Everything was a struggle. From getting a taxi at the bus station yesterday to checking into my room with the woman who all she could say was “Non contiendo”. I get it, you don’t understand. Trust me, I don’t either.
There seems to be some universal European custom that if you are ONE PERSON, you can only stay in a room with ONE BED. This has happened to me before in my previous travels, but the woman last night was incredulous. I seriously thought she was going to call the American consulate to come have my head examined. “UNA PERSONA?” “DOS (insert word for bed here)?”
I felt like Carrie Bradshaw in the last episode of Sex in the City.
There are some words that translate well, which I think of as universal, and if I can read them from a sign on the wall in about 6 different languages, the pronunciation usually is not that difficult. Those words are “credit card”, “train”, “taxi”, “water”, minutes, “attention”… and of course others, but for this story this is all that we need.
This morning I got up for a quick run to see the Ghery building the Guggenheim is housed in one more time, as when I left last night it was dusk and I thought the view this morning would be nice. As I am leaving the hotel, the woman who runs it was outside smoking (maybe that explains why the WHOLE PLACE smelled of cigarettes), while blowing smoke into the breakfast area (I thought this should have been in the reverse, but my thinking and the way of life here were simply NOT JIVING so I just went with it).
When I returned from a quick run, I found Miss Cigarettes again, this time prepared with tools to ensure the conversation ended with “comprende”. I had a map of Bilbao, a notepad and a pen.
I took the map and circled the hotel, “aqui”. I then circled the train station. I next pointed to myself, and then the hotel, “I am here”… I want to go to the train station, and then wrote the word taxi followed by 30 minutos. She kind of got it, and when I had showered and pulled through with my bags she said “taxi – tre minutos”. Yeah… victory!
Paying was a whole other issue involving a lot of “a dei mios”. Trust me lady, my thoughts exactly.
Everyone here seems put out by tourists, or maybe its just me they are not too thrilled with. At the Guggenheim they seemed to get it…anywhere else (minus the ice cream man last night) forgettaboutit. Even the men working at the hotel… never heard of the world chilvalry – must be something that doesn’t translate well.
I don’t pull the damsel in distress card too often, but when you see a woman heaving a bag down a set of winding crooked steps, you help her. Hell, I do it whenever I see ANYONE (man or woman) lugging something too heavy for them. This morning THREE men watched me nearly fall down the steps. Granted, it might have been a funny site to see… but come on, help a girl out. I think its just common sense.
So now I am on the train and bound for Madrid. My friend Sarah has arranged for me for me to meet up with her friend Javier for a few days for him to show me the sites. I am looking forward to being in a bigger city for a few days after this small town feel. If there is a beach, I seem to fit well with the city’s energy. A town in the valley set by a river? Not so much.
I have heard great things about Madrid and have arranged to stay three nights… and maybe longer. Sometime while I am here I want to see a bull-fight, and Madrid may just be the place.
For now I have a 5 hour ride to Madrid, and I think I would be wise to teach myself some Spanish so I feel a bit about better about myself. As right now I am just waiting for my “dunce” cap so I can go sit in the corner.
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