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| Alyssa and me in Parque de Buen Retiro, which is basically the central park of Madrid, but much older (first built around the year 1505) |
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| Same day with Alyssa in Parque de Buen Retiro (Sept 17th) |
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| A small portion of the giant rose garden inside of Parque de Buen Retiro (Sept 17th) |
Sept 18th: These long effortless days have been quite the dream, but all things must pass. Today, my life changing retreat with Alyssa has finally come to a seemingly abrupt and undesired end. I watched in disbelief as she sank deeper and deeper into the dreaded security checkpoint at the Madrid International Airport, knowing and accepting that I would have to live without the person whom I had been with for the last ~264 hours in complete succession for three more months. But as soon as she was out of my sight, I had to press forward; today was the day that I was going to meet Carlos, so I didn’t have any time for dwelling.
Carlos is a man I met through couchsurfers.org, a secure and popular website designed for philosophical and eager travelers to meet locals, learn about their culture, and stay on their couch for free in exchange that you let them do the same if they come to visit you; and he agreed to let me sleep in his living room until my study-abroad program starts on the 24th of September. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Carlos did not carry any of the characteristics of a psychopath, serial killer, or rapist; in fact, he is a sensitive and mild, soft-spoken Venezuelan who moved to Spain a few years ago. I really wanted to do something nice for him because of all of his hospitality, so I repeatedly marched up and down the disappointing aisles of his local grocery store, on a search to find fresh ingredients for a nice vegetarian dinner; after an abundance of letdowns, I settled for salad and pasta, but I tried to do the best I could given the meager ingredients and slim pickings of cooking ware in his bachelor kitchen. Shopping at grocery stores in Europe has made me realize how fortunate Californians are for their wide variety of quality, fresh ingredients at low prices; I don’t think there is another place in the world that can begin to compete with us. Luckily, Carlos enjoyed dinner, and said to me that it was a lot better than the type of food that he eats on a regular basis, which made me feel slightly more even with him. But his generosity still far surpassed all of my efforts; even with the leftovers we had for the next few days.
Carlos is learning Japanese and English, and since he is a native Spanish speaker, we cut all of our conversations into 50% English and 50% Spanish. By end of the first night with Carlos, I felt right at home, and set off for some much needed rest. Before I did so, Carlos informed me that he has an odd work schedule (11pm to 7am), where he basically does the same thing Homer Simpson does, but instead watches his computer screen for intruders who try to hack into some kind of computer database or something along those lines, so this meant that I would not be seeing a lot of Carlos because he sleeps until about five in the afternoon.
Sept 19th: My first full day of being alone in Madrid. I went on a run in Collado Villalba, the small town I am staying in for the week, which is located about 15 minutes north of Madrid. Later, I boarded a bus that took me into Madrid. For the next few hours, I meandered through Madrid, and was completely overran by love birds, sweet hearts, and honey couples; all of whom were pretending to be perfect and happy just to make sure that my deep sensation of lonely blues boomed into the caverns of my desolate soul. But I wouldn’t give up without a fight because I know there’s always a remedy for this feeling: la guitarra. I played guitar in the park for a little less than an hour and made 5€, and then ate dinner with it. Solitude took second place behind the excitement of new experiences.
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| There was a giant cycing race in the middle of the city. |
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| A typical 16th Century building when Spain was under Hapsburg rule. |
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| A skateboarder in front of the Palacio Real or Royal Palace. He was just one of the many kids who skateboard here everyday. I sat and watched them for a while. |
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| The Façade of a building in Plaza Mayor (or Main Plaza). This building has people painted all over it (mostly naked people) |
Sept 20th: I went on another run around Collado Villalba. I also planned a day trip to Segovia for the next day (the 21st). Then I put on my anti-lover-encountering spray, and went to Madrid to Parque de buen Retiro in order to practice the guitar in a tranquil public garden. I found a nice place with a bench beneath an abundance of evergreens that did not get a lot of foot traffic. Everyone told me that I would experience new things in Spain, but no one could have ever predicted what I am about to tell you.
While playing guitar in this beautiful park, a friendly dog or smiling face would approach me every so often, which was great because I got to practice my Spanish with two different families of animals. A mature man (dressed in the stereotypical Spanish senior citizen attire of loafers, dress pants, and a tucked-in, short-sleeve dress shirt) also approached me. This was another great opportunity to practice my Spanish; we spoke for over 20 minutes about everything under the sun, and I was able to tell him about my pleasant travels with Alyssa. We also had a conversation about the prevalence of homosexuality in each of our countries because there was an affectionate gay couple across the way from us. He told me that there are a lot of gays in Madrid, and that they are allowed to marry. But I guess all that talk about social issues regarding homosexuality really got him excited because he then decided to begin caressing my thigh and turned to ask me, “¿Te gusta?” (Do you like?). To which I immediately scooted away and retorted, in what must have sounded like my most creeped-out tone of voice, “No, no me gusta.” (No, I don’t like).
I then proceeded to get the hell out of that park, and then I got the hell out of Madrid all together and went back to Collado Villalba to sleep on some random guy’s couch. On a list of my top 7,000 most comfortable days, this would not have been considered an option—a large portion of my existing sense of childhood disappeared forever on September 20th.
Sept 21st: I took a recuperation trip to Segovia, where I was told there is an unusually small population of creepy old men. I walked for eight hours and saw some beautiful things, none of which involved me being fondled.
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| A view of Segovia from a hill that I climbed up as soon as I got off the bus in the morning. I laughed aloud when I saw this view because I was so overwhelmed, and it definitely took my mind of the previous molestation. Notice the Roman aquaduct that was built in the 1st century AD. |
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| Here are two of the many crosses that sit atop that same hill. I have no idea how old they are, but probably at least 500 to 1000 years old. |
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| An 11th Century church in Segovia |
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| An actual castle that I visited. It was first built in the 11th century and has experienced a lot of history from being the residence of the Spanish royals, to becoming a prison for about 200 years, to becoming a military school. |
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| Here is a great picture of the whole group that went on the Segovia trip. |
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| Like all great castles, the Alcázar has a giant moat that runs around it. |
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| The throne of the king and queen inside of the castle |
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| There was some unbelievable stained glass in there also. |
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We were all having such a great time that we decided to all get together and snap another group photo just for the heck of it. "Quick, everyone look to the right!" |
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| The Roman Aqueduct |
Sept 22nd: My birthday. I boarded a birthday bus to Madrid, and set out on a journey to fulfill my only birthday wish: find a piano to play. But first I treated myself to a 12€, three course lunch at El Vergel, a restaurant that proudly boasts its catch phrase, “Si corre, no lo comas,” which means, ”If it runs, don’t eat it!” Then, like a wild musical beast, I continued the great hunt; I prowled around Madrid from building to building looking for a piano. I went to a music school and told them my ideal celebratory itinerary, but they wouldn’t let me play—swing and a miss. So I gathered my remaining courage and headed to a community center that was rumored to have a piano, but the entire building was wrapped in scaffolding and could not be accessed at all. This was a devastating blow to my birthday flame. I then continued to wander aimlessly, filled with a sense of defeat as if I had been fishing all day and caught nothing. Although I had stopped paying attention to my fishing pole, it was still resting in the water, and by and by I finally got a bite around 7pm, when I had completely given up. Fish on! As I gazed ahead to see what I had on my line, I saw a little treble clef sign at the end of an alleyway, which turned out to be a music academy, and in the window I could see a piano. But the building was closed for the day; this fish was getting away. I had come too far, so I rang the doorbell anyway. Amazingly, without saying anything at all, I was buzzed open. I staggered in exhaustedly, and there was an elderly Spanish woman packing up her desk for the day. I told her about my day’s adventure, and she graciously agreed to stay for 15 extra minutes to let me play for a while. It may have been a small catch, but it was a catch nonetheless, and it completely changed the energy of the day.
It was now dark, so the hunt had come to a closing, but I went off and had a wonderful night. I went to La Boca del Lobo, a little dive bar located on a narrow, dark street that features live music performances nightly. I saw Los Chalanes, who were a group of skateboarders turned flamenco band. The show was said to start at 9:00 pm, so being a normal human, I showed up at 9:00, but I guess no one does that here because I was LITERALLY the only person in the entire bar besides the bartender and sound technician. So I made friends with them, and they turned out to be great guys. The bartender offered to let me put my backpack and guitar in a storage closet so that I wouldn’t have to watch over it all night. When he found out it was my birthday, he poured me a free shot of tequila for a three-way toast. I regretfully told him that I don’t drink, so he poured me a shot of Coca-Cola, and when I told him I didn’t drink soda, I thought the toast would be called off. But he came through in the clutch and poured me a shot of orange juice, and the toast was a great success. Given the scenario of the skateboarding flamenco players, I was expecting the concert to be awful, but as it turned out, they were one of the most talented bands I have ever heard, regardless of any genre. I spoke with the guitarist afterwards, and he told me that he has been intensely studying guitar for over 20 years, including being an apprentice underneath a guitar maestro, and he still practices at least 3 hours a day. He said guitar is his life; he pours so much emotion and technique into his playing style that I could feel it in the depths of my soul. He will forever be an influence to me. I stayed at that bar until around 1:45 in the morning, well after that band had gone off-stage and there was now a funk/jazz/jam band up, who were a lot of fun, but were nowhere near as moving as Los Chalanes. All in all, it was a successful birthday.
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| I got lost during the hunt, but I couldn't care less after I found this park. |
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| Notice the green birds... What the heck are those? |
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| At this point, it is obvious that I have just been having way too much fun taking pictures of myself. |
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| I made a new friend, and invited him to my birthday party in the park. |
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| My new friend brought some of his friends. |
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| This is an actual wall near the Museo de Prado (Prado Museum). |
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| Cute couple getting married on a good day. This is in front of the Palacio Real. And yes, I have been getting a lot of weird looks from newlyweds for taking pictures of them on their wedding day. |
Sept 23rd: I spent the day in Madrid again and went to Parque de Buen Retiro and was again bothered. This time by a drug addict who tried to sneak behind me while I was playing guitar and steal stuff out of my backpack. I decided to get the hell out of that park for a while, and went to one of the main plazas called Sol. I found a nice alleyway that had a few restaurants and pedestrians walking through, so I pulled out my guitar and left the case open to see if I could make some dinner money. After playing for less than two hours, I made over 17€ (~ $22.50), but by that time I was too hungry to keep playing, so I retired for the night, ate a cheap dinner, and headed back to Carlos’s house to prepare for the big day ahead of me, the day that I meet the other Cal Poly students in Madrid. This also meant that I had to say goodbye to Carlos because I would be staying in a hotel in Madrid for the next week.
Expect Part II soon.
