Weekend in Madrid

Friday afternoon, I hopped on a bus to Beauvais airport and boarded a plane to Madrid. I got in at around 9:45, and arrived at the hostel at around 10:15. I was happy about this, because my flight wasn't supposed to get into Madrid until 10:00, so I warned the hostel to expect me between 11:00 and midnight! All was good, though. Dropped my stuff in my locker and headed to the bar downstairs in hopes of meeting people. Everyone down there seemed to be there with friends, so I got a sangria and simply enjoyed watching a couple of guys dancing to the random-ass music that the DJ was playing.

Lesson one from Madrid: Sangria from Spain is much stronger than sangria from mexican restaurants in the states. I didn't even finish my cup, even though I got a small one! Within half an hour, I was passed out on my bed.

The next day I decided to take Mandi's advice and go to el Museo de Thyssen. Map in hand, I set out for my first adventure. It wasn't too difficult to find the museum. In fact, it was more difficult to find the entrance to the museum. I spent a good two and half hours exploring every inch of the place. All of my favorite artists were there-Picasso, O'Keeffe, Dali, van Gogh, and Kandinsky (well, all minus Jackson Pollock, but I wasn't really expecting to see any of his work there). As happy as I was to spend my morning in front of these masterpieces, it was very tiring! As I was leaving the museum, I decided that I was not going to go to anymore museums during the weekend.

The weather was beautiful, and I decided that a day like this one should not be wasted inside! I checked my map and saw that there was a nearby park, so I went over there and walked around for the afternoon.

I was in a bit of a distress over dinner, though. The hostel had no kitchen! I went out at around 7:00 to find food, and I ended up eating at a fish and chips place. I know, I wasn't in England, but they had veggie burgers, and I couldn't resist! I promised myself authentic spanish food for dinner the next night.
Lesson number two about Madrid: BBQ corn bought from a street vendor is indeed a nutritious lunch

The next day was sunday, which meant a lot of things would be closed. I was prepared for this, so I borrowed a guide book from the reception at the hostel and wrote down what was open on sundays and the times they would be open. However, most of these things were museums, which I was not cool with. While eating breakfast that morning, though, I overheard some people talking about a flea market. I asked the woman working at reception where I could find this flea market, and set off. I was amazed by this flea market! It was nothing like the one in Nantes, where random people sold random overpriced crap that nobody wanted. It was the flea market of my dreams! After spending two and a half hours there, I walked away with some presents for friends, and a pair of earrings and a sweater for myself.

I decided to go back to the hostel to drop off my purchases. On my way there, I thought of what I could do with the rest of the day. I had narrowed it down to a tour of the national opera house or seeing if I could walk around the bullfighting arena. I asked about the bullfighting arena at the reception desk, and they told me that it was closed since bullfighting season is over for the year. I went to Opera house, but it was closed, which was weird since it said open on the door. I decided at that point that even if I couldn't go inside the arena, there was no reason not to go and just take pictures from the outside.

I arrive at the bullfighting arena, and to my suprise, not only are they giving tours, but I caught the last tour of the day! The tour guide explained not only the history of the arena, but the rules of bullfighting, too. I still don't approve of it, but it was interesting to learn about. Unfortunately, the circus was in town, and they were using the arena as a venue, so there was a big old tent set up in the middle of it. This caused me to not get a real feel for the inside of the arena.

After the tour, I went back to the hostel in hopes of getting work done on my politics paper. Half an hour of work goes by, and I'm suddenly talking to some Irish guy and some Australian girl. The guy is studying in Madrid and got kicked out of his apartment by his landlord, so is staying in the hostel until he finds a new apartment. I tell him my story. We make plans to get dinner together, but then he blows me off. I end up eating in a tapas bar. I got patatas bravas, which are potatoes that are fried and covered in brava sauce, which is a hot and spicy sauce. It was really good! Went back to the hostel, ran into the guy, apologize for not waiting, then blow him off to do more politics work. Three pages of writing and a cup of sangria later, I go to sleep.

The trek back to Paris was tiring. There was a group of school kids on my flight, and they were so obnoxious! All I wanted to do was sleep, and they were being so loud! Other than that, there were no problems. Except now I have all this work to do...
~Sarah, who has to catch up on her work