Well, I’m here! I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet that I have finally dropped myself in the middle of Europe to endure my greatest self-preservation test yet: succeed as a foreigner in a foreign country by adapting to a foreign language, culture, and monetary system. All by myself. That last part’s the kicker. I know that it might not be that big a deal to many people, but it feels huge to me, especially right now.So…what have I seen so far? Let me give you the rundown.
When I got off the plane, I exchanged all the cash I had for euros (€) at a terrible exchange rate, and then went off to find a taxi to take me to the city center. The cab driver I found took me to the Apartamentos Recoletos near the Plaza Cibeles (my current point of reference) and I was so tired that I didn’t want to look for a cheaper place. Plus, I had no idea where to look anyway, and my luggage was way heavy. I just wanted to take a nap. So I paid the 77€ for a double room (the cheapest thing they had) and then conked out for four hours. I woke up about 1:00pm and then realized how badly I needed a shower, so I took one. Wow, this is becoming horribly detailed.
Anyway, after all that, I went for a walk to find something to eat and to explore a bit. Plaza Cibeles is right smack in the middle of lots of interesting things, so my mouth was hanging open during my entire walk. Alan, I give you fair warning: if you ever find yourself in Madrid, make sure to take deep breaths and drink lots of water to keep calm, or the architecture just might send you into cardiac arrest. I went walking up and down some streets, and down the wide Paseo del Prado. After about 20 minutes, I was famished so I popped into the next restaurant I came to, called Mercado de la Reina, or the Queen’s Market. I had no idea what anything on the menu was, so I just ordered one of the cheapest things, which was croquetas caseras de jamón ibérico. Anything with ham sounded good to me. Turns out, the croquetas were little fried balls of sweet creamy lard stuff, with bacon bits mixed in. Probably the most artery-clogging thing I’ve ever eaten. After I paid my dreadlocked waitress, I headed out for some more exploring.
I decided to find the Prado Museum, which houses some of my favorite Spanish paintings, especially those by Diego Velásquez. Thanks to my lucky travel book and its lovely maps, I found it quite easily and began staking out the place. Unfortunately, it seems to be very well-guarded. Walking out with Los Borrachos (my favorite Velásquez painting) is going to be a bit more difficult than I had anticipated. Well, I’m here for eight months, which should be plenty of time to figure something out.
Even though this is my first day here, I have already realized what a profound influence this place is going to have on my life. For example, living in Madrid will force me to get over my fear of fountains, because they are everywhere. I saw a particularly scary spiky metal one in the shade-tree pedestrian part of the Paseo del Prado, and actually walked by it like it was not there, ignoring its deadly bubbliness completely, so I am proud of myself.
The Prado is close to the Parque del Retiro, so I headed there next. The Parque is like a gigantic forest in the middle of the city, with lots of shady walking paths. It was nice and cool and relaxing. Well, it would have been relaxing if my shoes hadn’t started trying to peel the skin off my heels at the very moment I arrived there. I had definitely chosen the wrong shoes for a hike around the city, but I least I looked cute while limping. Actually, Joaquin, remember the time we were in that mall in Tegucigalpa (I think Miraflores) and I had to stuff tissues in my shoes because they were hurting so bad? Yup, same shoes. I think I’ve learned my lesson this time. Anyway, there is a big lake in the northern part of the park where people can rent rowboats. There are benches everywhere, which I took full advantage of whenever I could. Around the lake is a great place for people-watching. I saw Spider-Man, two Minnies, and Shrek making balloon animals for kids. Lots of people were roller-skating. There were fortune tellers, and portrait sketchers, and artists selling their little paintings on bed sheets in the shade. Many families were out taking a walk and couples were rowing their little boats around the lake. As such, the Parque del Retiro is my favorite place in Madrid so far.
Another thing about the people in Madrid: I have seen so many different kinds of people, of different colors, speaking different languages, wearing different types of clothes. People looking confident and people looking completely lost. People walking fast and people just strolling along. Blond people, black people, Japanese people, mestizo-type people, American-type people (somehow, you can just tell), dorky people, fashionable people, fat people, skinny people, funny-looking people…it goes on and on. This was a particularly encouraging thing for me to discover, because I fit in perfectly! Finally, a Spanish-speaking country where I don’t stick out like a sore thumb! It’s about time…
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