Thursday, March 17, 2011

Day 1 and 2: Rain, Rain, and more... Rain


Pic 1: The main square near my hotel, Petit Palace Londres.
Pic 2: Madrid's airport (spotless!)
The flight from north America was fairly uneventful except for the possible terrorist attack and the plane's swerve on take-off out of London; must have been a bit of road kill in Heathrow. It funny how everyone just quietly looks around and thinks, "What the #$% was that??!!" then our blind faith in the pilots sinks in like a catholic and our priests... hey... wait a minute!! Back to the tourist attack, as George W. would say. I'm in line to get on the plane in that thingie that connects the plane to the terminal (does that have a name?) Jesse will know. The airport police begin pushing their way through the crowd and everything stops... no talking, no loading, just unconscience (this damn thing has no spell check!) accusing looks from passenger to passenger looking for a Koran or something... sorry I'm profiling... blame shows like '24', CSI or Fox Network (that's a TV Network Kim ;) Anyways, a Nigerian woman around 28, pregnant and alone was the target of the situation. They knew her seat, her name but didn't know what she looked like; thus, every passport was checked and she was escorted off the plane. I know she was smuggling a baby... or was she? Hmmmmm? OK, excitement is over, back to the adventure. I said to Kim that it reminded me of the book, Little Bee.

I landed in Madrid after around 2 hours of sleep on board... I thought crossing an ocean should take a lot more time... didn't factor the 3 1/2 hour loss in time (or gain?!). Madrid is clean and orderly... what a contrast to Buenos Aires; same typical look but the architecture is more... harmonious. They must have strict building codes, "Don't build crap that doesn't fit with the damn building next to you!". People are very busy except for the tourists... they just tend to zone out and be impolite. Learn 2 phrases in spanish, "please" and "thank you". In BA (Buenos Aires), the locals seemed to be more relaxed and lively... perhaps its just the location. The men are very fashionable in a euro kind of way... no skidoo jackets here! And the women are surprisingly normal (?!) See Kim's reference to Argentina's grip on women's place in the aesthetics of the BA - ie: Breast augmentation and skin tight clothing.
The hotel, Petit Palace Londres, is pretty nice. Small and efficient, no big frills. My room is tiny but everything fits and I have one of those 'spray your butt thingies'. Very handy... why don't they catch on in Canada?? One cannot go back willingly to toilet paper once you've partaken in the finesse of water cleansing... although, the force of the water should be observed before pointing at anything a tad delicate. See reference to India and Sean's painful water boarding experiment... Surprise!
The first night was a visit to the local Irish Pub for a few Guiness and some chicken shaped into wings (I'm not allowed to eat wings in front of my wife anymore... see reference to dying from heart attack via clogged arteries - don't look, just kidding). Being so close to Rome, you'd think that their Caesar salad would be better... perhaps we have it wrong?? Thus, no more Caesar salads until I get home. A soccer game was going on at the pub... what an experience. Spanish people lose their minds during, before and after soccer. I settled into a nice corner table that had one chair... it must have been for the town dunce... or me... whatever, it was a nice vantage point. A goal was scored and every chair in the house was toppled with flying bodies and men hugging and kissing one another. Hey... no problem, just leave the Canadian, no spanish speaking dude out of it! I just smiled and quietly emitted the thought, "Go Blue team or whoever just scored... just don't think I'm with the other team". Great night... slept 10 hours and woke up to another day of Madrid rain but lots to see and do.
Day 2: I walked and walked and was amazed at the wonderfully screwed up street layouts. That's why they need triangular buildings... it's like a maze here with plazas (like concrete parks) at every turn. Umbrellas... I'm just tall enough that every third or so umbrella misses my cornea by millimeters... eye-kabob. I have a sore neck from bobbing umbrellas from killer nannies and old men... I guess they have more to be concerned about than my sight... they are dying in a few years and have to look every direction except forward.
I went to the Museum today... the Prado. I saw the most amazing works of art. You know... the stuff that you grew up looking at in books and bibles. El Greco, Velazquez, Goya, Bosch, Rubens and Titian to name a few. 5 hours of wandering the halls... pretty cool. It's something to think how works or art have been so influenced by the church and monarchs. Quite the history lesson.
Tonight I eat at an Argentinean restaurant... imagine! Didn't get enough clots in my pulmonaries in BA. I had an awesome steak and another salad that was 6 inches high... the salad Kim, not the steak. I sat at the counter with a crap load of other men that didn't want to sit alone at a table. Da boys... if only I knew what they were talking about... "Let's watch the gringo eat that mound of leafy crap... he must have a list for dinner from the el wifo!" It was gooood. On the walk back, I was approach by a wonderfully affectionate lady from Africa wanting to know certain personal answers pertaining to my state of loniness and desire for interracial experiential learning. I thanked her for picking me out of a sea of pedestrians as being the one pathetic enough to need her services. It cost me 2 Euros to buy my arm back.
On to day 3... what to do?? I gotta make a list :(
btw: I'm not going to go through my grammar so I apologize to anyone that reads this and has the need to correct - and - why do the pictures want to go to the top on this damn program?? Is there anyway to imbed then where they belong... next to the text?

5 comments:

  1. i love following your thought pattern sean! oh, and your trip.

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  2. At least it was not a transvestite! Or was it? I am sure that if there is one in Madrid, she/he will find you. The cats and I miss you. Scrappy was trying to explain the order of feeding to me this morning. She would like you to come back as quickly as possible.

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  3. Tell Scrappy not to mislead you in her importance... although I do pamper the old fart.

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  4. Look... you come up as me! I guess you really are Mr. Thistle!

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