Katie and Tommy: Around the World

We were thrilled to learn while flying from Barcelona to Madrid that Madrid was indeed one of those magnificently well-planned cities where for a mere $2.00 one could take a subway from the airport and arrive within 100 yards of their hostel in less than 45 minutes time.

Due to our flight being slightly delayed, we did not arrive to our hostel until a bit past 11:30. Much to our happy surprise, however, Madrid stays up much later than Barcelona and so finding food at that late hour was not difficult. We went a to fashionably decorated, though unoriginally named tapas bar called “tapasbar” before turning in for the night. We were a bit disappointed to learn the next morning that Madrid was in the middle of an unusual bout of rainy weather. Since that day’s downpour had already started, we decided that our first activity of the day would be to check out the Museo del Prado so that we could hopefully save the outdoor activies for days with better weather.

Though we did have to wait about 30 minutes to enter, we were thrilled to learn that EU students could enter for free and American student admission rates were only 3 euros. We were really struck by many of the paintings in the early rooms. Though neither of us were familier with the artists, they were exceptionally moving, even graphic at times. We had a list of masterpieces that we wanted to see and we saw them all, I believe. My favorites naturally were three of the most well-known paintings in the museum: Velasquez’s Las Meninias, Van der Weyden’s Descent from the Cross, and Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights.

For lunch we ate a wonderfully crummy hole-in-the-wall bar and ordered bocadillos de calamares con salsa brava, or fried calamari poboys with hot sauce. Since they were only three euro each, we ended up ordering two bottles of San Miguel beer as well. Since the weather had improved, we spent the rest of the day walking around the old town and finding a nice cafe/bar where we could go and read at night.

To save some money, we went to a grocery store and bought some bread, cheese, and tomato/olive oil sauce so that we could make some light tapas for dinner. While in the store, we both commented how it would be a bit sad leaving Spain because it won’t be until Australia that we’ll be in a country where the native language is one we can understand. Though we have been remarkably successful thus far at pointing and showing fingers, there is just something pleasureable about being able to tell someone, correctly and eloquently, what you are trying to say. After dinner, we headed over to Arca, the cafe/bar we had picked out earlier that day, where over a pitcher of sangria we read books an began to draw out a few ideas we’ve had about how to make better travel gear.

Sunday morning began at an English-speaking mass in north Madrid. One of the priests invited us to stick around after mass for donuts and coffee and we had the chance to speak to him. A native of San Francisco, he is a Jesuit who was assigned to Madrid as he continues to work on his doctorate.

After mass, we took a subway to a part of town a bit closer to where we were staying so that we could go see el Rastro, the weekly Madrid flea market. Though we hardly ever see anything we would really buy at these sorts of things, Katie did buy a headband to keep her hair out of her face. For lunch, we entered a crowded cafe next to the market to grab another bocadillo (swiftly becoming our favorite Spanish snack).

We got to take advantage of a tip from a local after lunch. Less than a hundred yards from our hostel was a place called the San Gines Chocolateria, whose speciality is chocolate con churros, or hot chocolate with churros, a fried, tubular, beignet of sorts. Needless to say, it was delicious. Ingesting so much sugar in such a short period of time made us quite sleepy though, so we took a short nap in our hostel before we went over to the Museo Reina Sofia, which is currently putting on almost all of the major works from Paris’s Picasso museum as a temporary exhibition.

We were a bit disappointed to discover that the museum closed very early on Sundays so we went instead to the city’s largest park, El Retiro. After having a sufficient amount of time exploring the park and reading on one of its benches, we went to yet another tapas bar and vinoteca to get some dinner. To drink, Katie and I tried two different sherries, a dry Palomino and a sweet Pedro Ximenez. To eat, we ordered octopus and potatoes with “salsa brava;” goat cheese and anchovies; goat cheese and carmalized onions; as well as pesto, spinach, and smoked salmon wrapped around mozarella cheese! It was one of the savoriest dinners we’ve had on this trip, but we’re also confident that we could replicate all of these hors d’oeuvres at one of our own parties.

Monday brought a lot less rain so we did almost all of our urban walking then. Our first destination was the Cathedral de la Almuden, next to the Palacio Real. The cathedral looked old from the outside, but the inside looked quite modern. We walked around parts of the newer town, hoping to find a theatre where some of Madrid’s best flamenco shows take place. We were a bit disappointed to find that an Argentine pop singer, whom we had never heard of, was performing there instead of any traditional flamenco shows.

So after another bocadillo (poboy) lunch, we headed back to Reina Sofia and finally got the chance to go see the Picasso exhibit. One cool thing was not only seeing Guernica, but also a series of photographs that Picasso took as he was working on it, documenting changes that he made as he worked on it. When we looked at the finished painting on display, we could see some of the half erased marks he never fully cleaned up.

We went to sleep early that night, after another light dinner of cold tapas at the hostel. On Tuesday morning, we caught our plane to Athens. The subway ride took a bit longer than we had expected and since our eticket didn’t specify we were departing from the furthest terminal, and we ended up catching our flight only because we ran through the concourse to the ticket desk!

Photos from Madrid

Right from the start, being in Barcelona was just wonderful. We did have to fly into Girona Airport, which is about an hour’s bus ride from the city, but for the price of our EasyJet flight it was more than worth it. Not to mention the bus ride took us through some absolutely lovely countryside. The only other problem was that, while I was completely recovered from my infection, I managed to contract a cold my second night out of the hospital, and by the time we arrived in Spain my voice was completely shot. I couldn’t do much more than whisper and make squeaky noises. Still, I didn’t let that get in the way of enjoying Barcelona, and I just let Tommy do all the talking.

A quick metro ride got us from the bus station to our hostel, which was perfectly situated just north of the old city. It was about 9:00 pm when we arrived, and we were hungry. We planned to get some groceries, but all the stores were closed. We found a little cafe with affordable tapas, and got a pitcher of sangria–it was absolutely delicious!

The next day was bright and sunny and we set out to see the city. The main artery through la Ciutat Vella is La Rambla, a long street with a wide pedestrian walkway in its center, lined with trees. The walkway is lined with the typical stands selling flowers, magazines, or souveniers, but we were surprised to reach one stretch with a series of outdoor pet shops! Stands were set up on all sides filled with cages of birds, guinea pigs, bunnies, and hamsters. I couldn’t help but go from one to the next, admiring the animals. Every now and then one would have a real oddity, like a cage chock full of baby chickens, or some extreme breeds of pigeons with exaggerated feathers.

On our way down La Rambla, we ducked into La Boqueria, an immense covered market. Tommy and I have seen lots of markets of this kind on our trip so far, and I must say, La Boqueria beats them all by far. Never have I seen such amazing displays of beautiful food: piles of colorful and exotic fruits (including several of our South American favorites), huge collections of candies and chocolates, and fresh (occasionally still-moving) seafood. The fruit vendors sold amazing juice and fruit salad, some of which we sampled as we walked through.

We continued down La Rambla to the coast. It was a lovely sight, deep blue water and an avenue lined with palm trees. We walked down it into Barceloneta, another neighborhood near the beach. There we visited another market and had bocadillos, or sandwiches, for lunch. Then we walked down to the sandy beachfront. It was just perfect. The weather was cold, but in the bright sun it was hard to tell. It was packed with people relaxing, but there were still plenty of free lounge chairs to spare. We plopped ourselves down to enjoy the water and the weather. Every now and then hawkers would come by offering massages or “cervezabeer?” but we tuned them out.

We strolled east down the coast. I had my binoculars and was avidly searching for birds, as I had read online that the Barcelona waterfront was an excellent place to do it, but the diversity was pretty much limited to gulls and pigeons. But as we moved inland into a park, we began to hear the raucous squawks of parrots in the trees. There is apparently a pretty significant population of Monk Parakeets in the city, which can be seen feeding with the pigeons. Several of them had some cumbersome but very visible numbered tags around their necks, so I can only guess they are being studied by someone.

We wandered through the old city some more, seeing some of the older buildings and cathedrals. Then we walked to the immense park of Montjuic in the western part of the city. It was quite a hike up a steep hill, but the view from the top was worth it. Not to mention the gorgeous, perfectly-manicured gardens. We also found several sites from the 1992 Olympics, including the diving pool, which was filled with bathing gulls.

After a brief rest at our hostel, we went out for our one big night of tapas, which we had been looking forward to doing in Spain. We had located a nice-looking place called Taller de Tapas (“Tapas Workshop”) during our walk. We were excited to find that they had Quilmes, our favorite Argentine beer. We had two bottles and three different delicious tapas. We split an amazing chocolate dessert and some very sweet sherry. Our little meal was pretty pricey to us, and we watched in awe as the couples around us kept plates of tapas coming, along with plenty of wine and champagne. Maybe someday?

Our first day in Barcelona was just perfect. It was such a beautiful city. Unfortunately we knew we would not have another like it–the weather forecast was nothing but rain for the rest of our stay. The next day we decided to stick to indoor activities. The first of these (after sleeping in quite late) was a haircut for me. It had been maybe five months since my last one, at it was getting a little hard to deal with. Luckily, on our walk the day before we had stumbled across an English salon with the motto “Don’t let your Spanish get in the way of your hair!” The owner is from Britian, and everyone inside spoke perfect English. I got one of the best haircuts I’ve ever had there.

Our next stop was perhaps the best place in Barcelona to spend a rainy day: El Corte Inglés, Spain’s premiere department store. We’re talking nine stories of anything you’ve ever wanted. From the designer clothing, purses, and fragrances to home furnishings, electronics, and musical instruments, it was a fun place to wander through. We spent some time admiring lovely objects we couldn’t afford (if you haven’t seen a MacBook Air yet, go to Best Buy and check one out…wow)

Our last stop in El Corte Inglés was the counter of a wedding dress designer, Pronovias. I’m not the kind of girl who has been planning her perfect wedding for years, and when I got engaged I didn’t have a clue what kind of dress I wanted. My mother and sister bought me some bride magazines, and inside one of them, a single wedding dress caught my eye. It was simple and unique, and the only one I’ve ever seen a picture of and really liked. While I knew I could never afford it, I checked out who the designer was: Pronovias, Barcelona. Since we were going to be in Barcelona, I thought I might as well look them up. Why not? As it turns out, while they’re scarce in North America, in Barcelona it would be difficult to be in the city and not be on top of a Pronovias store. So in we went, to the little corner of El Corte Inglés roped off for the finest of Spanish wedding dress designers.

Since my voice was pretty much useless (like my Spanish) Tommy explained why we were there–we had seen a dress in a magazine that we were looking for. The lady working the desk did not speak English, but somehow with much gesturing and guessing at fashion vocabulary, we communicated what the dress looked like to her. She told us they did not have it there, but that the branch on Via Augusta should. Since they were closing soon, we decided to head over right away.

It was intimidating, to say the least–a stark, pale store with nary a wedding dress in sight, the walls lined with black and white photographs of extremely fashionable gowns. We had to ring a doorbell to get in. A sharply dressed Spanish woman let us in and asked how she could help us. When Tommy said I was looking for a wedding dress, she began taking out forms and asking for all sorts of information. I hoarsely prompted him to explain the specificity of our search. Between us, we were again able to communicate what the dress looked like, and they knew it immediately. Surprised that I only wanted to try on one gown, they beckoned me upstairs.

Thus began the first and (I predict) most bizarre dress fitting of my life. I was seated in a large room with a comfy sofa and a trifold mirror and pedastal. They had me don six-inch heels and an undergarment I later learned is called a can-can, which poofs out at the bottom to help fluff the dress. Then they brought it in. It was more than a little odd looking at the actual garment I had admired from maybe four thousand miles away. They helped put it on me and began fitting it to me. I knew more and more with every passing second that I did not belong in this store, trying on a dress I could not afford, but I was already standing there, so I simply continued pretending. When they were finished, I was a strange specimen of a bride–pristinely lovely from the front, and a mess of clips and excess toulle in the back. But the dress was beautiful. Tommy came in and the ladies gave us a minute alone, during which he frantically snapped pictures of me. Our plan is to try and get a similar dress made, possibly even in Thailand. We’ll see.

We did a little more shopping for things we’ve been needing, and also paid a visit to the Hospital de Sant Pau, an old and beautiful hospital which is still active. Fortunately it was just to sightsee and not for my readmission. The weather had changed drastically throughout the day; a single location could go from bright and sunny to dark and pouring and back again in only a matter of minutes. We cooked some pasta back at our hostel for dinner.

The next day, the forecast was a little more optimistic, so we caught a train to Montserrat. This area had been recommended in an EasyJet magazine on one of our flights, and we had been looking forward to checking it out. After an hour train ride out of Barcelona, you take a cable car up a mountain to the monastery of Montserrat, and there are several walking paths to other sites in the hills. The scenery is supposed to be spectacular. Unfortunately, the cable car took us straight up into a thick cloud where you couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of you. We tried a scenic walk but couldn’t see anything but a sea of fog. When it began to drizzle, we got some hot chocolate at the nice cafe there and headed back to Barcelona. We spent the rest of the day catching up on internet in the hostel until our evening flight to Madrid.