Madrid 5/28/08 NightSitting here in this hotel room with DJ and Chris, doing nothing but lying in our three seperate beds, smoking cigarettes. Today never ended. I haven't slept since Monday night (it's Wednesday night). Today, our group went to the Prada Museum four a tour. We walked around for awhile but then we ditched it to walk around downtown Madrid on our own. We bought foreign cigarettes and sat in a courtyard. Later, we met up with the group to eat dinner (some strange meat that resembled dog food) and watch a bullfight.
5/30/08 12:15 am
Man, what a day. We woke up real early this morning for breakfast, which consisted of chewy ham and a hard piece of bread. We visited some palace, I don't really remember the name of it (nor could I pronounce it). After lunch, the chaperones set us free in Madrid for a good six hours. So me, DJ, and Chris walked through the endless cobble streets of downtown Madrid and found some neat little bar. We ordered some of the local beer, which was called CruzCampo, and we sat outside in the warm sun and listened to some local play classical guitar. We all clapped and tipped him for his work. It was a beautiful time. Later, we found some hooka bar whcih killed about another two hours. Later at night, we met up with the group at Plaza Mayor, which is a big open courtyard in Madrid, which was like the center of the city, everyone passed through their. Then they set us free again, so we went out and found some other little hooka bar. We got weird looks in their because most of the other people were transsexuals or crossdressers. We really didn't mind. The tea they had was amazing. Someone their told us to run if the cops came. That freaked us out a bit. So we left a little more quickly than we would have. After that, we got lost looking for our hotel. So we bought a bottle of vodka and stumbled through the dark, empty streets until we found it. We slept like babies.
Flamenco dancers are beautiful. The way they dance in the dim light, their dress twirling, their eyes wandering. It's magical, it really is. We visited some cave in Granada where we sat against the wall. The cave was dark and we were crowded against the wall. Then the dancers came out, speaking their language with thier bodies, saying so much. I was in awe. The pure wonder and magic of this country and out travels have rendered me seemingly speechless.
Granada is cloudy and colder than Madrid. There is grafitti on the walls that say things like "Stop the Government" and "We'll Never Die". We didnt go out and explore as much. We really just stayed in our room, sitting out on the balcony, passing that bottle of vodka back and forth that we bought in Madrid. I need to call my parents soon, i'm sure they want to know how the trip is going. I'm still in love with this place. I wrote a poem today:
standing outside a cathedral in Granada
an overwight, yellow-toothed gypsy tried
to scam me out of 5 euros by giving me
a stick of rosemary.
I shook my head and ignored her
like it was routine, then i walked away
from her with such assurance of my act that
the city applauded.
So we were supposed to go to the beach but the bus driver got lost on the way their, so we had to stay on the bus for a good six hours or so and we ended up in some port city on the Strait of Gibralter. The hotel was nice though. We weren't aloud to go out at night though, something about crime. So the three of us found a way on to the roof and smoke cigarettes and talked about our travels, the night time ocean humming off in the distance, speaking of some foreign land, some future journey.
This morning, we rode a feery over to Morocco and what a culture shock that was. As soon as we enter the city, we see camels and houses made out of stucco or something. We walked through a market and it was so strange. Toothless women wrapped up in their Musilim garb sold fruit which little boys tried to steal. A blind old man stood with his can in the middle of the street screaming something in his language. I assumed they were prophecies abour our impending doom. I asked our tour guide how to say "stupid americans" and he told me. Later, I heard some young guys setting up a booth muttering those words under their breath while staring at our group. I went to some pharmacy and bought some magical potion that supposedly relieves headaches by rubbing the oil on your forehead. I haven't tried it yet but i'm hoping it works.
Later that day, we rode the ferry back, then headed for Seville. It didnt seem to take too long to get there. Me, DJ, and Chris still had time to go out. So we found some neat little bar by the river and watched the sun set over the water and over the city. We drank, we laughed, we met some Spanish women who could speak a little English. We tried to get them to dance with us, but they were too shy. God, their smiles in that golden sun, the cool breeze of the river, the bartender laughing at our foreign ways. It's a beautiful thing being here, I don't want to leave.
6/3/10 11:00 am Leaving Seville
Goodbye Seville, I will return, don't worry.
We woke up today and went to Starbucks and had a cup of coffee and a few cigarettes. We're heading to Corbada (sp?) now for awhile, then we're taking a bullet train to Madrid for two more nights. I feel alright, but i'm tired of staring at these damn olive trees.
Corbada wasn't anything special. It was just this old mosque and a few little stores. I bought an oracina (sp?) and we had some pizza and beer at this little joint for lunch.
The bullet train to Madrid was also pretty boring. I became depressed watching this older guy get intimate with this younger girl, maybe my age. They were part of another tour that had attached onto ours back in Seville. The girl just kept saying "This feels so right, so natural" It made me sick, they way they held hands and cuddled for miles and miles towards Madrid. Whatever. I think this travelling is getting to me.
The bullfight in Madrid was a bit of a shock. We were all packed into this stadium. I mean, really f*cking packed. The guy behind me had his knees digging into my back. We watched the bull come out and and watched the different people come out and stab and stab until the bull was ready for the matador. The matador teased and played with the disoriented bleeding bull until he stood straight up, stared at the bull right in the eyes, and, as the bull breathed heavy and charged towards the matador, he raised his sword and stabbed the bull right inbetween the eyes. The crowd cheered, thirsty for more blood. I couldnt believe it. But the Spanish believe the bull died with dignity and with honor. And perhaps as the bull rots, the eventual stink is just the world.
6/4/08 Last Day
We woke up, hungover and grey, and left for some park where there was a staute dedicated to the devil. Me, DJ, and Chris cured our hangovers by getting more beer at the park for lunch. The sun was out and it was warm so we all began to feel much better.
Since it was our last night in Spain, we all went out and got drinks with some of the kids in the other tour group. We drank, smoked, and laughed until we couldnt walk straight. It all seems a bit hazy to me now, but I remember pissing on some bus that was parked on the street and singing "Stuck in the Middle with You" while walking down the hotel hallway. We slept like rocks and Chris woke up in the bath tub for some reason.
We feel tired and we feel old. Its about four in the morning and we're waiting for our plane. I keep falling asleep while writing this so i'll make it short.
Goodbye Spain, i'll see your beautiful skies and beautiful women again. And when I finally return, you'll say "Good to see you, old friend" and i'll nod like nobody's business.
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