Donde está el Metro? (Madrid, Día 1)

We didn't get to Madrid too late, but getting to our hostel was a bit of an ordeal. I figure out that we could take the Metro, but once we were on it, we realized it would take forever to get to our stop, Chueca. So, we got off after two stops at another airport stop to take a cab -- but the airport was ridiculous. The signs didn't make any sense, but not because they were in Spanish -- they just didn't make sense. The nice thing was, though, that I got to start using Spanish right away (first, to ask where the Metro was, then to ask how to get to the cabs). I got to speak Spanish a lot on this trip, actually, because most of the people we encountered didn't speak English. That was really exciting. I felt like my high school education wasn't a complete waste of time.

Finally, we got to our hostel. Again, it's very lucky that I know enough Spanish, because the woman working there (the owner?) didn't speak any English. The hostel was so cute though. It was kind of like a crappy B&B, minus the second B.


We grabbed dinner at this little open market right down the street. The best thing we could find (or so we thought) was a burger place, but they ended up being the worst burgers we'd ever had. We also had to sit in a cloud of smoke, though not for the last time that weekend, because smoking is legal indoors and everyone smokes.

The next morning we got up early and went to the Plaza de Cibeles. There was a pretty fountain, the Fuente de Cibeles, for some god of something. There were a few important buildings around it, including the Palacio de Communicaciones, which they mockingly call "Our Lady of Communcations" (according to my travel book).


We got lost on the way to our next stop and ended up, luckily, at the Plaza de Independencia. This is where the Puerta de Alcalá, the old entrance to the city, is.


From there, we went to the Parque de Retiro, the big park in Madrid. It was absolutely gorgeous out, so we got ice cream and walked for a bit. It was sunny and warm and I regretted bringing my jacket (until about 4, when the temperature suddenly dropped like 15 degrees). We walked to the lake and rented a boat to take out. The friend I went with, Carrie, tried to row, but really sucked at it (the guy on the dock was yelling, "UP! BACK! DOWN! NOOO!"). It kind of reminded me of the 5-person bike incident in Rome. Anyway, I took over, and amazingly, I managed just fine (yeah, Dad). On the way out, we passed a pretty gardeny area.


My travel book recommended a place to eat nearby named La Finca de Susana, but they weren't open yet when we got there at 12:30. They only opened at 1pm for lunch, then closed, then opened again at 8:30 for dinner. Spain is weird. But I guess this place was really popular, because within 20 minutes of it opening, every chair was full.


We were trying to do the whole "Spanish cuisine" thing, so we split an appetizer of Chicken croquettes, which we found out were little mashed up chicken things that were fried and served with tomato sauce-covered bread. Weird, but edible. I got some kind of pork ribs with gross rice and Carrie got paella, which we found out is not, in Spain, what Americans think of as paella (we think of the Cuban kind). In other words, it was gross. The desserts were yummy though -- I got Catalan caramelized creme with biscuits (cookies).

Next up was the Plaza de la Puerta de Sol, which is very lively and has a lot of shopping. There were guys playing music and tons of people. Over the square is a big sign advertising Tio Pepe, a kind of sherry. The sign is supposedly synonymous with the square, kind of like the Citgo sign in Kenmore in Boston. We stopped at a Dunkin' Donuts, which they call Dunkin' Coffee (not even Dunkin' Café) and got snacks (they had some different kinds than we do). I also saw an ad for Confessions of a Shopaholic that made me laugh, because the word "shopaholic" doesn't translate, so it instead says "Confessions of a Compulsive Shopper."



We walked down a busy street to Plaza Mayor, which was more enclosed, and saw a bunch of people yelling and singing. They were wearing Spain's colors and marching around for the football game that was probably that night. The plaza also had one pretty building, the bakery (not sure if it's still a bakery or just was at one time), which had murals painted on the façade.


At this point we were pretty tired, so we went back to the hostel to nap and shower. That night, we walked to the Gran Via (a big thoroughfare) do get dinner. After our lunchtime experience, we weren't to up on the idea of getting Spanish food again (especially if we couldn't get an English menu and didn't know what we were ordering, as I realized my knowledge of food-related language is severely lacking), so we went to McDonald's. This was actually an experience in it's own. It was much nicer than any McD's I've ever seen. There were nice, cushioned chairs and it was clean. The menu was pretty funny, because most of it was in Spanish (hamburgesa, patatas pequeñas), but there were a few English words that didn't actually need to be in English, like "chicken."

The funniest part was a separate counter they had for a McCafé, where they served frappes, coffee, and dessert. We ended up getting some, and the woman served me my cake on a nice, reusable plate (like, actual flatware) and even decorated it.


After our awesome dinner, Carrie and I went to a small bar called Museo Chicote. My guidebook said that Frank Sinatra, Ava Gardner, and some other people were all once patrons. It wasn't anything amazing and the drinks were really expensive, but we had fun. On our walk back, some drunk guy came up to us and said, "Chicas!" which was weird, because if a guy ever just came up and said "Girls!" I'd be like, "What the hell?" That was the one of the only times I wasn't excited to use my Spanish-- so we told him "No hablo español."