Life in Spain... So Far

"AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose." -Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road

...okay, so maybe that was lame, but that's a

badass poem and you can't argue with badass.

After a day of flying, one hour of sleep, feeding crying/obnoxious toddlers, and countless glasses of complimentary vino, we arrived in Madrid to get the party started. We had our dinner comp'd by the hotel and soon headed out to hit the town, landing in Moore's Irish Pub of of Plaza Mayor. Apparently Mick Harley, the Northern Ireland born-and-bred bartender, was impressed by a pasty white American from down South's ability to finish a car bomb in five seconds flat (timed, mind you, with a reliable stop watch and much faster than the 50-year-old Dubliner chugging along with me) --which merited 2 more free car bombs--(ridiculous and incriminating pictures to follow). After bonding over REM, the Doors, and Pearl Jam, Mick hooked me up with several more drinks, explaining my ability to get 5 car bombs, 3 Newcastles, and 1 other identified beer for only 9 euro. Booyah.

After getting sweet talked and liquored up (but not in a negative way) by Mick, I moved on to talk with three well-dressed businessmen sitting in the back room with the rest of the UGA crew. Felípe (from Toledo), Leif (from Germany but living in LA) and Andy (from Chicago) were all on business in Madrid with their sustainable wind-energy company. Felípe told us the best places in Spain to go during our time here, while Andy and Leif introduced me to possible job opportunities in India working in their CSR department, despite my horrible track record in Math and Science. Thanks for the business cards, boys.

In other news, Spanish breakfasts are a little more bizarre than I'd expected, although I'm starting to get the hang of them. Spaniards are big fans of meat, especially ham. As in, most vegetarian options that I encountered in Madrid included... wait, really? What? That's right. Jamón. (Valencia has been much better, though).

With Felípe's advice, a few of us opted to catch a 40-minute train to Toledo for a couple of hours to check out Spain's original capital.

Needless to say, it was pretty epic and very fun. We went to a great little place near the center of town to get a few Tinto de Veranos (the winter version of Sangria here)-- which came with tapas. In this case, they were tiny burgers and french fries. We like to think that they were horse burgers, as they smelled foul but apparently tasted like Mr. Ed (which, I guess, is delicious?)

We also met an older Turkish couple that owns a travel company and was very eager to meet American kids. They gave us their information and told us to come visit them, although we're a little concerned that we'll get there and it will be a Hansel and Gretel type situation, and we'll end up dying at the hands of a seemingly sweet but actually deadly Turkish couple. But hey, you never know...

Anyway, during our last day in Madrid, a handful of us went to El Prado, where we saw paintings by Rembrandt, Raphael, El Greco, Velázuez, Goya, and Titian. Excluding the Lourve, it was the best museum I'd ever been to. Our last night in Madrid was pretty ridiculous. After making friends with Gloria and Pascal, a Madridian couple who apparently have the hookup in their hometown, we scored about 20 passes to Joy, one of Madrid's most badass discotecas, and danced all of our bocadillos off. We woke up the next day (Saturday) to make the 4 hour bus ride to Valencia, where we are getting settled now.