08
Mar 15

Hiking, Softies, and Searching for Mr. Pointy

A couple of weeks ago, I had the chance to visit my college pal JM in Seattle, and in true blog fashion (at least this blog), I’m writing about it late.

Right around this time last year, I went to Seattle for AWP and saw JM all too briefly. This time, we got to hang out for a whole long weekend.

Rain, Softies, and fry bread

The great thing about Seattle is that the flight from SF is so short: just two hours. Even better when you have an aisle seat in the exit row with no one in the middle (except for my seatmate’s jacket and backapck, go right ahead) and on Virgin. Aw yeah!

I spent the whole time listening to downloads of my new obsession, the Stuff You Should Know podcast (which deserves its own post), and playing Shanghai Mahjong, and before I knew it we were there.

Of course it was raining, but not too much, and JM was kind enough to pick me up at the airport. The moment we met up, it was non-stop talking. We had a lot to catch up on. Back at her lovely house, we snacked and chatted some more before heading out to nearby Kirkland.

I should say JM doesn’t live in Seattle itself but a suburb highly populated by “Softies,” or people who work for Microsoft. In my short visit there, I found that Seattle and the surrounding area had a very different tech feeling than the Bay Area. Less start-uppy and more old-school Big Tech. But I could be totally wrong.

It was drizzling as we walked around, but again not too bad. It wasn’t even worth the effort to use an umbrella. Kirkland has a lovely lakefront that was still lovely even in the cloudiness and mist.

For dinner we ended up at a Mexican place, where I tried Native American fry bread for the first time. However, there was so much stuff on it, I couldn’t really tell what it was like. My drink was definitely yummy: a combo of some kind of liquor, ginger beer, and lime.

I can’t remember when we got back. No later than 10, but I had gotten up early that morning, and between the flying and the drink, I was ready to conk out.

The search for Mr. Pointy

We spent the next day walking around downtown Seattle. We did a tiny bit of shopping, then for lunch we had delicious pho, which was perfect for the damp and chilly day. Unfortunately I can’t remember the name of the restaurant. I know: I’m useless.

Then we were off to the EMP/Science Fiction Museum. I’ve been there before but that first time somehow missed the whole science fiction part of it. Needless to say, this time around I was nerding out pretty hard, especially because of the Star Wars costumes exhibit.

But before that there was the “fantasy” section, which included stuff from The Wizard of Oz, The Lord of the Rings, and The Game of Thrones:

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And of course the Star Wars exhibit was great.

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But what I was really on the search for was Mr. Pointy. I saw it advertised outside, along with other “horror artifacts.” Obviously the vampire-killing stake Buffy inherited from Kendra wasn’t going to be in the Star Wars section. I walked around the fantasy section twice before poking my head out and asking the young hipster guard, “Is it in here that I would find Mr. Pointy?”

He stared at me blankly.

“You know from Buffy,” I said. Then it hit me. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”

He admitted that he didn’t, and that he had only seen the movie. Then he said that besides the music section, there was just fantasy and Star Wars, and I have to say I was a wee bit disappointed.

JM and I were walking out when I saw the sign again about the horror exhibit. I had seen signs for it inside too, but for the life of me couldn’t find it.

JM was kind enough to accompany my obsessed ass back in (although she opted for the museum store instead), and the guard was kind enough to believe me when I said I had just left (having the receipt helped) but completely missed the horror. He gave me a new sticker and pointed me in the right direction.

I love fantasy and SF, but I love horror even more. When I saw that the exhibit was rated PG-13, I was even happier.

I saw the alien from Aliens

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— this guy —

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and — duh duh duh duuuh! — Mr. Pointy:

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Yup, it’s a stick. But Buffy fans will get the importance of this stick.

I also enjoyed a short video about Ringu and The Exorcist. Eli Roth talked about how when he was six, he was about to watch some scary movie (I forget which), and his father said, “You want to see a scary movie?” and showed him The Exorcist.

“That messed me up for years,” Roth said.

When I was nine, I had a similar experience, which I’ve tried writing about before but not yet to my satisfaction. Maybe it’s time to try it again.

After I was done, I found JM in the cafe, and after downing a refreshing apple soda, we headed back.

That night we had dinner at home, then checked out a winery not too far away. We thought it was going to be a wine tasting, but it wasn’t. It was just wine, bad music, and worse dancing.

I kind of wished I had Mr. Pointy then.

Hiking

The next day we went hiking, which was super-fun.

The last time I went hiking was in college or high school. We were on a family trip in Yosemite. It was me, my dad, and my brother (my mother wisely decided to opt out), and it was August. In other words, hot. For some reason Greg had all the water, and since he was on cross country, effortlessly jogged all the way up to the top. He met me and my father — sweating and huffing and puffing — on the way down, and at that point we gave up.

This hike was much easier, partly because I’m in better shape but also because it was cloudy and cool, and I had plenty of water and snacks.

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The hike was about four miles total, and was actually easier than my walk back from the grocery store at home. In that case I’m carrying up to 10 pounds of groceries uphill in the sun. Doing that a few times a month for several months has been good practice.

After our hike, we had a delicious barbecue lunch at a place nearby called Rhodies Smoking BBQ.

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After we got back, we pretty much just bummed around for the rest of the day. Had leftovers for dinner, then started to watch a movie. But neither of us were too into it, and I was pretty tired. The next morning I flew back to San Francisco.

I may visit Seattle again before my move back to the east coast. It’s so close and the flight prices don’t seem to change much. Plus I’d love to go hiking — and eat barbecue — again.


30
Aug 14

The flight home

I was stressed about getting to the airport, but YP found out about the express bus and it was super easy.

Getting through airport security was another story. I didn’t realize I had to take out ALL my electronics, including plugs, chargers, and my headphones. I had to go back through the scanner twice more. However, luckily they didn’t make me go to the end of the line, and plus this nice American kid explained it all to me, having experienced the same thing himself.

Going to my departure area was also a pain. Between a tram ride and the walk, it was over 20 minutes. This woman approached me asking a question in Spanish. I said in English, “Are you going to the U.S.? Then you need to go to area U.”

“U?” she said. “Like you and me?”

At first I laughed, but then she wouldn’t get away from me. She stood RIGHT next to me on the escalators. Like she was pressed up right against my backpack and kept saying stuff like, “You and me, we’re the same.” She held up her passport but it was EU, not American so I had no idea what she was talking about.

Maybe it was mean of me but I totally wanted to ditch her. It was hard enough to figure out for myself where I was going. At first I went the wrong way, and when I turned around abruptly she was right on my heels. Then I walked off really quickly, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep up.

I made it to my gate with about an hour to spare. I had time to go the bathroom, get something to eat, and pick up a couple of things from the duty-free shop. (I wanted to use up my euros but I wasn’t able to.)

Compared to my airport experience, the flight itself was a dream. It was Iberian Airlines and really nice. The plane seemed new, and each seat had a fancy entertainment center. There were so many free movies. On top of that, in a row of four, it was just me and one other woman, both on the aisle.

I didn’t sleep at all but watched three and a half movies: Veronica Mars, American Hustle (much of which was censored so parts of it felt disjointed), Captain America 2, and part of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

The only uncomfortable part of the flight was after we landed. We were told many times not to get up until the captain told us it was okay to do so. Two airport officials with surgical masks came on and questioned this family (I’m guessing they were Afro-Spanish). At one point a stewardess, also masked I think, took away this water bottle that was stopped up with a paper towel. The family, which had two little boys, were escorted off the plane first by the masked officials.

All I kept thinking was Ebola, but maybe one of the kids was sick (one of the bathrooms smelled really bad and then was out of order) and because we were coming in from another country, that was just standard procedure?

It was weird. But I guess they would have told us if it was anything serious.

The next leg of my journey was tough. The only good part was that I had ended up not checking my suitcase. The woman in the Madrid airport warned me that I’d have to pick up my bag and get it through customs before getting on my connecting flight. I don’t know how I would have made it. I had to get through customs, then schlep to another terminal, then go through security AGAIN. At least this time I knew the drill.

I made it to my gate about half an hour before boarding. I had time to pee, get some food (this fruit cup really hit the spot), and be surprised that everyone spoke English.

I don’t know why I ever thought O’Hare Airport was nice. It’s shitty and not air conditioned well.

I thought the flight 4.5 hour to my city would feel endless but I was so exhausted I fell asleep several times. We landed on time, 7 PM, which was 4 in the morning Madrid time.

But my journey still wasn’t over. I still had the subway, and it was during that 45 minute ride that I felt REALLY exhausted and kind of sick. But at least it wasn’t hot, my car wasn’t crowded, and when I got to my stop, I caught the one cab waiting at the cab stand. By 9 PM, almost 24 hours since I left Madrid, I was home home home!

I was so happy to be back in my own place, my fatigue didn’t even bother me anymore. I washed up (thinking about that gross bathroom), set an egg to boil for a late dinner, and called Mom. We spoke very briefly.

I had lentil soup with an egg for dinner (it tasted particularly flavorless after two weeks of salty food) and watched a bit of Midsomer Murders. By 10 PM I was losing consciousness.

I fell asleep fast and at one point woke up and had absolutely no idea where I was. I even had trouble finding the bathroom. I was feeling around in the dark: is this it? No, that’s the closet. Crazy.

I was pretty awake around five this morning. I did my favorite morning routine: have a nice strong cup of coffee (Spanish coffee from the airport, which was really fucking good, wish I had bought more) and PBJ toast, and read. Then I caught up on work emails and worked out. Ten minutes on elliptical and then a three-mile run after one of the treadmills became free.

The early morning walk to the gym was so nice.

I thought about going into the city, but it’s already three now so that’s not happening. Maybe I’ll go tomorrow, or at least the grocery store. I have enough regular food but not enough snacks.

I’m pretty tired now. Think I’ll watch the Doctor Who 50th anniversary special and then have an early dinner.


28
Aug 14

Back in Madrid

In Barcelona, I was dreading the subway ride from our hotel to the train station, but I surprisingly remembered how to get there since I had lead the way the first time. Again, the train ride was lovely. We ended up sitting next to each other, and we both dozed most of the way.

I felt more comfortable once we were in Madrid. I prefer hot and dry weather as opposed to hot and humid, and it was great that the hotel YP picked was very close to the apartment we had stayed in, which meant it was super close to the train station.

We had asked for two twin beds but they gave us a double. We asked to switch rooms, and they ended up putting us in a suite with two twins AND a Murphy bed. YP took the Murphy.

While YP went to pick up his matador outfit, I headed out to the Naval Museum. But it was closed — d’oh! I wasn’t sure what else to do. At first I wandered around aimlessly, looking for a restaurant since I was pretty hungry. But nothing appealed to me, or else I felt too shy to go in by myself. I ended up in the supermarket section of VIPS and picked up some Asian noodles and a yogurt. I went back to the room, ate, read, and watched Midsomer Murders.

It was during this time I realized the A/C wasn’t working. At first I was okay, but then I got so warm I had to open the windows.

After YP came back, we went to meet the apartment swapee for a drink. It was then that I realized how starved we both were to talk to someone who was not each other, and in English to boot. The swapee was very nice and it was fun chatting with her. That was also the first truly leisurely Spanish meal we had. We sat outside, had drinks, and ordered food in fits and starts. (As always I ordered too much.) The swapee had brought her dogs. She held the smaller one in her lap while the bigger one hid under the table and leaned its body against my legs.

That night, our last in Madrid, we both had a terrible night’s sleep. It was too warm, even with the windows open, and plus it was very noisy. After a while I put in my earplugs, which helped some, but then I was awake at six. I got maybe three hours of sleep.


27
Aug 14

Barcelona, Day 3

After a good night’s sleep, I was up early.

I had breakfast again in the hotel (which YP had thought was free but it wasn’t, oh well). YP had plans to go to the beach. I was tired of the sun and plus I had my period so I headed back to the Ciutadella Park to visit the Barcelona Zoo, which was about to close when I went the night before.

El pinguino, up close and personal #barcelona #barcelonazoo

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Of all the places I went to, the zoo at 19 euros was the most expensive. But I think it was worth it. It’s enormous, and I was there for almost three hours. Still, the animals’ enclosures seemed really small, like they had barely any room to run around. But I guess that’s what a zoo is and why some people hate them.

Why hello there #barcelona #barcelonazoo

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Afterwards, since it was still early, I made the schlep to the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, or MNAC.

I could have taken the subway, but I walked the almost-hour instead, figuring that would be a good way to see the city. I didn’t get lost but I’m sure I used a lot of data on my phone.

On my way I passed the Gardens of the Grec Theater. It was really neat but again it was so hot and sunny so I didn’t stay for long.

The MNAC is so crazy. It’s high up on this hill, and you have to take about four outdoor escalators just to reach it.

The view from the National Museum of Catalan Art #barcelona

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By the time I did, I had such a headache. I took an Aleve but it did nothing so I think I was dehydrated. I started drinking water like crazy and also had a yummy blueberry muffin before heading inside. Delightful surprise: the muffin was full of frosting.

I enjoyed the museum although I was SO tired. I sat as much as possible although there wasn’t much seating. I was pretty good about seeing everything and listening to as many audio descriptions as I could.

The ceiling at the National Museum of Catalan Art. #barcelona

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'Sup? #barcelona #art

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When I finished it was only about five so I thought I’d try to see the Magic Fountain. I discovered that it was only an eight minute walk away, but thought, How the hell am I going to figure out how to get there?

Then I realized it was at the foot of the museum. Dehr.

The Magic Fountain at the foot of the National Museum of Catalan Art

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Then began the long schlep back.

Unlike in Madrid, it’s very easy to find places to eat in Barcelona. Things don’t seem to shut down between two and eight, and there’s lots of takeaway. So I had many choices for dinner.

Where did I end up? At a hamburger place next to the hotel. YP had had a veggie burger there, and he said it was good. I did not have the veggie burger. I had a hamburger with blue cheese and grilled onions, and it was GOOD. It was also enormous. I thought I wouldn’t be able to eat the whole thing, but I did, along with most of the fries.


26
Aug 14

Barcelona, Day 2

We started the day with a late breakfast at Brunch & Cake, which was adorable. I had something to eat earlier so I wasn’t super-hungry, but I was still able to have a cortada and one slice of coconut bread (YP had the other).

Coconut bread with carmelized pears #barcelona

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Afterward we went to check out Sagrada Familia. It was a bit of a schlep and again it was sunny and humid. The cathedral was really cool, but there were soooooo many people. I thought YP might want to stand in line to go in, but thank God he didn’t.

Next up was the Museu Picasso. On our way there we ran into La Monumental, an old bullfighting arena that’s now a museum. (Bullfighting has been banned in Barcelona since 2010.)

The museum itself was dinky and just okay. The fun part was going into the empty arena, standing in the middle of it, and going “backstage.” It was even more fun because by then we had been to an actual bullfight — and besides the museum fee, we didn’t have to pay for a tour.

There was quite a long line for the Picasso museum. We waited for almost an hour but at least we were in the shade. When we finally got into the museum, YP went through it quickly and took off to do something on his own. I got the audio tour and listened to almost everything.

On my way back to the hotel, I munched on a piece of yummy pizza, then stopped in the Barcelona Cathedral. This time I was ready with a little jacket. But it turned out I didn’t even need it. There were plenty of women in sleeveless dresses and tops, and both men and women in shorts. What a crock. At least I didn’t get duped into buying a shawl like the girls I ran into as I left.

Ceiling, Cathedral of Barcelona #barcelona #spain

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At the hotel I charged my phone and rested a little, then went to Ciutadella Park, which was just a five minute walk away. It was pretty nice with lots of people running, doing CrossFit, and yoga. For those reasons, as well as the vegetarian restaurants, banned bullfighting, and transvestites I kept seeing, Barcelona reminded me a lot of San Francisco.

After the park I checked out a couple of cool buildings (the Palau de Musica Catalana and Palau Guell) and then had sushi for dinner. It was above average.

I slept much better that night.


25
Aug 14

Barcelona, Day 1

Off the Barcelona!

I was a little worried about schlepping to the train station with all our stuff and the possible madness of getting through security and all that, but it turned out to be a breeze. I kept remembering how it was taking the train from Paris to London, and only afterward remembered that was from one country to another.

We had a lot of time to kill so we sat in a cafe. I had (yet another) cafe con leche and a delicious chocolate muffin. I don’t know if it was any different from a chocolate muffin in the U.S., but it seemed yummier.

The train ride was absolutely lovely. YP made sure to get us front-facing seats, and we each had a window. Plus the woman next to me got off early so I had a whole row to myself for most of the time.

I listened to music, daydreamed, and had (yet another) mixto sandwich plus cafe con leche in the cafe car.

Three hours on a nice train is the perfect amount of time. Long enough to enjoy yourself but not too long before you start to feel antsy and bored.

Getting to our hotel from the train station in Barcelona was a bit of a pain. Plus it was sunny and humid. After we had a late vegetarian lunch, YP went back to the room and rested and napped for like four hours.

In the meantime I went to the Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art, mostly because it was the only museum open that day. On the way I passed the Barcelona Cathedral (as I would a million times during our visit). There was a sign saying that shoulders had to be covered, and that day I was wearing a sleeveless dress. A lady tried to sell me a shawl, but I figured it would be easy to go back another time so I said no.

T-shirt art at the Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art #barcelona

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The museum was nice and, as museums are in New York, over air-conditioned, which was nice at first but then it was freezing. I watched this short documentary on a Welsh professional wrestler, although I drifted off a couple of times.

Footsteps above, at the Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art #barcelona

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I went back to the room to charge my phone and found YP still napping. I stuck around for a little while, then headed back out. I tried to visit the library but it was closed by the time I got there (a recurring theme), and then had ramen for dinner

Ramen break after more than a week of Spanish food #barcelona

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It was very pretty but tasted just okay. Still, it was a nice change from tapas and ham and cheese sandwiches all the time.

I got back before YP, who had gone to another vegetarian restaurant for dinner. I showered and relaxed with old episodes Midsomer Murders.

While I couldn’t hear the street noise, I didn’t sleep well that night. Too many cafe con leches I think.


24
Aug 14

El Rastro, bad sardines, bullfighting

On this day we checked out El Rastro, the flea market.

It was interesting and fun to walk through it, although neither of us bought anything. Along the way I stopped for a plate of fried sardines —

— which turned out to be a bad idea since later they gave me an upset stomach. It was either the sardines or the cafe con lech, although I’m pretty sure it was the former.

While my stomach was upset for only a few hours, for the rest of the trip (and even now), the thought of seafood made me ill.

After the flea market, YP headed off on his own (I forgot what he did) while I returned to the library. This time it was open, yay!, and the exhibits were free.

One was of the history of the library and another was about this Portuguese poet, Fernando Pessoa. Those were both in Spanish, but there was another, bigger exhibit about Spanish influence on America which was also in English. The exhibit was pretty good but conveniently left out anything on genocide.

That night we saw a bullfight.

Plaza de Toros, Bull Square #madrid

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Somehow it didn’t occur to me that a bull — or bulls, it turns out — would actually be killed. I thought the matadors would play around with the bull but in the end it would be okay.

It was not.

Six bulls in total were killed. There were three matadors, each of whom took two turns. While watching the matadors stab the bulls was difficult (there’s a lot of blood), even harder was when the guys on the horses came out and the bulls charged the poor horses who, blindfolded, just stumble blindly, having no idea what’s going on.

I guess in the past the horses had no protection and so were often mauled to death. Now they have what looked like padded armor, which can’t prevent all injuries, I imagine.

But, and this is weird, I still got into it. The matadors were all elegant with their cape work, and sometimes they got so close to the bulls. It was pretty exciting.

The etiquette was interesting as well. People were very respectful, only cheering and clapping when they were supposed to. No one got rowdy. There was feeling of respect for a very old tradition.


23
Aug 14

The Bullfighters’ Tailor

On this day we rented a car and drove to this place on the outskirts of Madrid so that YP could buy a matador outfit.

You heard right.

At first he thought he could get one in the city, but it turned out that place didn’t sell whole outfits. So it was off to this other place, which wasn’t far from El Escorial, the “historical residence of the King of Spain,” according to Wikipedia. We figured if the matador outfit place turned out to be a bust, we’d have another thing to see.

The place wasn’t easy to find. We got lost a couple of times but eventually ended up where we thought his place should be. But all we saw were little apartment buildings and office parks, very much a suburb.

Finally, YP found someone who pointed us in the general direction. Unfortunately, there was no sign, at least not that we realized at first.

Señor #JustoAlgaba is that you? I think it is. Compare: http://instagram.com/p/sDWHJFhFyW/ via @yonkey

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It turns out that graffiti likeness is the tailor, Justo Algaba, himself, and the building behind it, number 23, is where his store is. But like I said, we didn’t know that at the time. All we saw was that the gate to the (empty) parking lot was closed. I thought YP would want to scale the fence. Luckily he found a buzzer and kept trying numbers until someone answered.

“I was looking for Senor Justo Algaba?” he said.

After a brief pause, a deep male voice answered,”Vale” (which basically means “Okay” or “Fine), and, to my amazement, the gate opened.

Because it was siesta time, the building was almost empty, but an older gentleman on the second floor spotted us on the stairs and waved us up.

Senor Algaba’s “store” certainly didn’t look like one. There was a mural of matadors —

Celebrity matadors #justoalgaba #madrid

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— a bull’s head —

— and a display case with outfits, but that was all.

Later YP Ptold me that Senor Algaba took one look at him and came out with an outfit (second-hand) that fit almost perfectly.

While the WF got fitted with a vest, jacket, pants, shirt, socks, hat, and shoes (it’s a complicated outfit), I relaxed on the couch under the bull’s head and read. I was glad I had brought my book.

YP also later told me that the tailor has been in business for the past 40 years, and has outfitted in addition to famous matadors, the likes of Sylvester Stallone and Latoya Jackson. However, like I said, his store was very modest. Someone else might have photos of themselves with various celebrities, but he did not.

He was also insistent that everything about YP’s outfit be just right. YP said something about using his own shirt and socks, and the tailor replied, “No, no, no.” YP knew it wasn’t because he wanted to sell him more stuff; he just wanted it to be perfect.

And while I didn’t understand a word he said, I could tell he was very gentlemanly. When he pointed out the restroom for me, he sort of escorted me in the right direction.

After we were done, YP had me take a photo of him and the tailor, and it was totally cute.

Afterward, Senor Algaba said, “Very good, very handsome.” YP said, no you look handsome, and the tailor said no you, and they went back and forth like that for quite some time.

Senor Algaba wanted to fix a small tear in the pants, and offered to drop off the outfit at the store in Madrid for YP to pick up later in the week. He also suggested that instead of spending hours in a restaurant that we get sandwiches and stuff from the vending machine downstairs, which, in our starved state, was fine by us.

My sandwich — a croissant “mixto,” ham and cheese on a croissant — was actually pretty good. We ate in the car and then were off to El Escorial.

I was very tired but I really enjoyed this. It reminded me of Versailles (except much less crowded) with rooms set up like how they were in the past, paintings, sculptures, and a crypt (you know we love a good crypt).

The drive back to the city was less smooth than the drive out. The GPS was fucked up and we kept getting lost. On top of that both our phones were running out of battery.

To make a long story short, after much effort we figured out rental car return was in the general parking lot.

We were so exhausted, we ended up just eating in the train station.


22
Aug 14

Basilica, Royal Palace, National Library

Friday our plans were to check out the San Francisco el Grande Basilica and the Royal Palace of Madrid.

On our way we stopped for breakfast at this nearby cafe, where I had a lovely cafe au lait. I had also ordered a ham and cheese on a croissant but wasn’t very hungry. Luckily I had a trusty ziplock bag and saved 2/3’s of the sandwich for later.

The Basilica was really pretty, and it was kind of nice to get there just as it opened. There was a sign that said no pictures, but as I tried to sneak one in, a passing guard was like go ahead! kind of like the conductor on the train from Toledo.

I sort of can’t remember the Royal Palace. Mostly I remember the outside where a couple of accordion players played continuously (Italian songs mostly, and the theme from The Godfather), and how two little girls tried to climb onto the ledge of an exterior window until a far-off guard blew his whistle at them and one climbed down with her hands up.

We also passed through the Sabatini Gardens, where we kept hearing these birds squawking. YP joked that it was a toucan, and then a couple of minutes later I saw three green parrots fly overhead. It turns out Madrid is overrun with wild raccoons and parrots. Who knew.

Our next stop was the Alumenda Cathedral beside the Royal Palace. We weren’t sure what it was. All we knew was that we could go to the top, which we did and saw a lovely view and these really cool statues:

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That was almost better than the Royal Palace.

Next were nun cookies. Let me explain: apparently there are these cloistered nuns who make cookies and other sweets. The nuns are somewhat hard to find, and we thought it would be fun to try and find them and also to bring back the nun cookies for our co-workers.

The convent wasn’t too hard to find. We overshot the alleyway, but quickly found our way back. We had a little trouble finding the door, but luckily the blog post I linked to above had a picture of it. I took one too. Then — d’oh! We discovered the place was closed and cookies and sweets wouldn’t be available again until September:

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No nun cookies for us. Another good thing was that nearby there was the Mercado Market, where we had a variety of food:

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  A photo posted by actung9 (@actung9) on

That night we went off and did our own thing again. YP went clothes shopping and I checked out the National Library.

Unfortunately the library was closed by the time I got there. The website said it was open until 9 but it actually closed at 8. I got there right before 8 so at least I could go inside the gate and look at the exterior, even if I couldn’t go in the building.

Feeding my inner library nerd: National Library of Spain #madrid

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I met one of the resident library cats.

Spanish library cat is not pleased with me #madrid

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I wasn’t hungry and I didn’t want to go straight back to the apartment so I walked some more. I wandered down this street that kind of like Fifth Avenue, ie, lots of high-end stores that I would never buy stuff from.

For dinner, I stopped at a grocery store near the apartment and picked up salami, cheese, and a baguette. It was a bit too salty but still delicious.

Tomorrow’s agenda: get YP a matador outfit! Stay tuned…


21
Aug 14

Thyssen-Bornemisza Museu, Crystal Palace, Indian food

On Thursday, YP and I went to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum together and each did our own thing afterward.

I enjoyed the museum. At first I was very diligent about listening to every audio description and at least looking at every painting, but after almost two hours, I got saturated and started breezing through the rooms, especially after realizing there were two more floors and I had started in the middle.

By the time I called it a day, it was almost three and I was hungry. Actually I was hungry earlier but I had a bite of a Balance bar, which sustained me.

At the museum cafe I got the duck over cous cous. While the sauce was amazing — tartly sweet with apricots, prunes, and currants — the duck itself was tough and chewy. The duck I had at the Courte d’Ingles was a billion times better. But I ate the whole thing, knowing it would be a while before I ate again.

I also had the dessert, a very liquidy vanilla custard. The flavor was good but it was so watery. I’m starting to think Spain doesn’t do dessert so well.

YP was already back by the time I got home. We were supposed to meet one of his old friends at six, but at 5:30 she sent a message saying she couldn’t make it. That kind of sucked because I came back early for our plans instead of going to the national library.

So instead we checked out the Crystal Palace, which we had been meaning to anyway. I’m sorry to say it was unimpressive. I could see how it was once amazing, but now the glass is dirty and the place was empty except for a scattering of rocking chairs which were apparently part of an exhibit. Apparently it used to hold “flora and fauna” from the Philippines. Not anymore.

It reminded me of stuff in China: buildings that seem grand from afar but are shoddy and dilapidated up close.

We decided to have Indian for dinner. He found a restaurant with plenty of vegetarian options. We got there at 7:30 but it wasn’t open until 8:30, which is often the case around here.

We sat in a Starbuck’s for almost an hour. That wasn’t so bad. I was so tired, I was able to just sit, daydream, and people-watch.

I’m finding that while some Spanish men are definitely attractive (I’m a sucker for dark hair and eyes), they are way too well-groomed for my taste.

Finally, 8:30 rolled around. I wanted a little bit of everything so I got the tasting menu. The starter was a tiny meat samosa and pakora which was more like an Indian onion bloom. The entrees were curry lamb, saag paneer, and chicken tandoori with a side of rice and naan. Dessert was a small mango lassi. All for 19 euros, which is a little expensive, but if I had ordered one entree with rice and naan, it would have been almost 19 anyway.

Back home we were both pooped. I did what has become my evening routine: shower, take care of my feet, and watch an episode or so of Doc Martin. I slept well.