Well, I made it to Rome!
For all of you new to the blog, you're probably thinking...What the heck? I thought Sassy Catalina was going to Spain for six months.
True, true. But as you will find out, while you are spending hours and hours reading the details of my European adventure--in reverse--I made a contract for a studio apartment in Madrid, but it doesn't start until the 1st of March. So, instead of spending more money staying in pensiones in Spain, I decided to hop on a plane and come to Rome for a week! It's low season and cheap, so viva la Roma!
Welcome all new readers...[and welcome back Mom and Dad from NYC..thanks, Dad, for leaving, like, forty comments...] It seems that they're are some unfamiliar eyes reading my blog. How nice of you to drop in! I would have dropped you a friendly hello in the comments section, but really, I have no idea how to do that--and yes, I am that lame. In fact, just to illustrate how lame I am, I will confess that I got dressed and got out this morning at the spritely hour of ten AM--intent of going straight to the famous Palantine Hills to be oh-so-sassy-smart and buy my combined ticket for the ruins and the Colosseum, and thus, bypassing the long Colosseum queue. When actually, instead, I ended up in some other park with Roman ruins, searching for an hour for the Palatine box office. That's what happens when Sassy Catalina reads a map upside down.
Well, okay...I'm not going to go through a long narrative account of my experiences thus far...because a] that would be boring and b] I don't have my pictures downloaded so I can't share and c] I've already been here for two days and I just don't type that fast. BTW, I do have internet in my room in the first hotel that I'm staying in, but it's a complete fluke. It's a tiny hotel and very cheap, and I'm starting to believe--considering how cheap the room is--that I traded heat for internet. Hmmmm...heat vs. internet. Heat vs. internet. It is cold in Rome right now, but DSL internet in my room is very, very useful, despite the fact that someone has switched around many of the keys. So, for example, when I press ? I really get - . Another example, when I press : I really get >. It's a good thing that I'm such a bad typist because anyone who knows how to really type by putting their fingers on all the "proper" keys would be completely foiled.
Okay, so now for some random reflects on The Eternal City> I mean :
1. The Roman ruins of the Forum and Palatino Hill are just that. They are ruins. Like a pile of bricks that the tour guide says to you: you can imagine that this was an elegant sweeping room with arching ceilings and marble walls and painted frescos, and I felt like saying, Really...? Because it just looks like a pile of broken bricks to me.
2. The Colosseum is more impressive in the movie Gladiator than in real life. Okay, that's not really true. But, I really expected to be taken into the bowels of all the tunnels and be told fantasical stories of gore and death and punishment, and instead, the tour was only about thirty minutes long and I only got one stroy of gore and death and punishment--and zero tour of its bowels.
However, it should be noted that the tour guide told us an interesting anecdote. Apparently, in the 8th century, Rome was being overun with Christian pilgrims, and the Roman government just didn't know what to do with all of them, so they figured that they would make up a story about how the Colosseum was the main places were 1st century Christians were persecuted and killed during the Gladiator fights. That way, all the pilgrims would flock to one central location--a symbolic and sacred site--that could easily manage the flood of all the pilgrims. Really, it was complete bunk. The 1st century Romans used the Colosseum to kill everyone equally for sport. They crucified the Christians along main roads, so that they could be seen in public. Just an interesting example of government propoganda.
3. Spanish is very similiar to Italian. I know it's obvious, but until you're actually here, worrying about how you won't be able to communicate in a restaurant--or at the very least, not seem like a completely retarded American, who can't even try to speak some Italian--that you really realize how similar Spanish is to Italian. Many words are identical, or nearly identical. Plus, I've gotten very far on three phrases: 1. buonogiorno 2. chiccolato, por favore 3. grazie
And a grazie and a por favore, pronounced with a very dramatic Italian accent--plus, a friendly smile--will take you a long way, especially with the grandfatherly-types manning the yummie sandwich shops at the metro stations.
4. There are a lot of old women begging for change, and they really look like they need it. Little frail hunchbacks with canes and sunken faces. As Maria would say...it is always woman who is the one who is suffering. And I don't know what it is, but whenever I feel really bad, and stop to give them change, I always get "help" a few hours later when I'm really lost or need a good place to eat...
5. It was raining today. There was a little Indian man selling umbrellas at the Palantino Hills, and he was asking for 5 euros, but when the Italian tourists would scoff at the price, he would lower it to 3 euros. I didn't buy an umbrella, simply because I've been avoiding buying an umbrella since Madrid, and I figure why submit now? But there was a teenage couple who was harassing the Indian street vendor, taunting him about how it wasn't even raining. The teenagers had accents, so they weren't American [thank freaking god], but they were speaking in English. I thought to myself, leave the poor guy alone. He's a street vendor, for christsakes, trying to make a living. Later, it did rain, and even though I didn't have an umbrella, I was happy. I hoped that the teenage couple got drenched. [meow...sassy!]
P.S. I'm sorry, Danny. I know, I know... but you know how I get when people are mean for no good reason!
6. There is a big street along the Piazza Venezia that has a stream of traffic rushing through it and no cross walk. I don't know if it's just this one place, or all the main streets in Rome, but what happens is that pedestrians just walk RIGHT into the road and TRUST that the traffic will stop.
I watched the phenomenon very careful, and indeed, the traffic goes from 40 to zero in about 1 second. Everything halts, even for one lone pedestrian. I'm guessing that pedestrians have the right of way, and the traffic must stop. But it would be kinda like making all the traffic on Michigan Avenue suddenly halt, every time somebody steps out into the street. I confess, I was not so brave to go it alone, so I waited for a group of four Brits to cross--they seemed like they knew what they were doing--and tagged along.
7. The water here turns from frigid to 3rd degree burn scalding in 1 second. And that is not an exaggeration. I burnt the palm of my hand today without even trying, and you have to leave the accordian shower door open half-way in order to leap out, or else, in 0.5 seconds, you will burn to death.
Well, I guess I will leave you all with that imagine... Tomorrow, I am visiting the Capitoline Museums to see some famous paintings [my favorite] and moving to a hotel in the Vatican area. And on Friday, Maria flies into Rome to spend the weekend with me...
Ciao!
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Friday, February 16, 2007
El Retrato
Yesterday, despite being exhausted, I dragged myself to Madrid´s Museo Thyssen-Bornemisa, where they are having a special exhibit about El Retrato, the protrait. This was an exhibit solely of modern portraiture, and the avangarde idea that these painters created images of the sitter with the intention of making it art, not a realistic representation--a concept we take for granted now, but apparently, it caused quite a shake-up in the art world at the turn of the century.
Anyway, since I really have only spent my time searching for places to live, or searching for food, or searching for Citibank, or searching for places to stay in Rome, (and no, Danny, I still have not had a chance to meet people yet!), I decided that since I really have seen none of Madrid, and since I am leaving for Rome on Monday, I better get out and about and see something...
So here are a few things that I learned at the El Retrato exhibit.
This is Salvador Dali´s portrait of Picasso. Nice! Dali is one of those dead people who I´d love to bring back to life and have a conversation with
Gustav Klimt can make any woman look beautiful, even when she´s lying on her deathbed
The point of cubism is to make the object of interest and its background seem like they´re on the same plane. It is not to make everything look like little cubes! Who knew?
I still love Van Gogh´s stuff, even though I always must be reminded that the proper way to pronounce his last name is Van Goth
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Success and Failure!
This is my other cousin, Maria, at her office in The Conservatory of Music, where she teaches piano. I´m going to spend this weekend in the suburbs with her family (my aunt Nana and uncle Felipe, Maria´s brother, Santiago (my cousin) and his wife, Yolanda.SUCCESS:
Last night, Maria drove into the center of the city, so we could hang out at the internet cafes at night and plan our possible trip to Rome. I´m going to leave for Rome next Monday and Maria is going to meet up with me next Friday, for the weekend.
We found cheap tickets for her, and decided on a cheap hotel to stay in. We were very excited and happy that we were planning a spontaneous trip to Roma!
FAILURE:
Meanwhile...while we were buzzing and giddy about our Italy adventura, Maria´s car was being towed by the evil Madrid policia. When we finally came out of the internet cafe around 11:30PM and I walked Maria to her car--yep...you guessed it. It was gone. Christ!
And as you might imagine, finding and retrieving a towed car in Madrid is as big a pain-in-the-ass as it is in a big city in the United States. The irony and good news of the whole fracso was that Maria illegally parked her car, right on the corner of an alleyway of a police station.
Nice, Maria! So her car had probably been towed within minutes of her parking there! And yep, the cops were in the office, waiting for us!
So at least we had an easy time locating which pound her car had been towed to, and during the whole exchange with the police, I was learning all sorts of fun words, like la matricula (license plate number), la denuncia, (parking fine), el propeterio del coche (owner of the car) que mierda (that´s crap!). Actually, I already knew that last one...
Anyway, the cops were very nice to us poor young females, stranded in downtown Madrid--especially considering the fact that they were the ones responsible for towing Maria´s car. And by the way, the cops here in Madrid are all very young strapping good-looking chicos, who all wear these form-fitting black and neon yellow jumpsuits, that say, "come to me, I will rescue you!" Just a little cultural detail...
We did finally get Maria´s car back, at 1AM in the morning! My only regret is that I didn´t have my camera with me, or else I would have taken pictures of the whole "retrieving of Maria´s car!" adventura...
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
I got an apartment!
Well, the big news is that I made a contract for an apartment this morning! Yay, for me!
I spend all day Sunday and Monday, searching on the internet, calling around, making appointments, and seeing different apartments, and let me tell you, two days was more than enough.
First of all, the custom here in Madrid is that old single women rent out rooms of their 3-4 bedroom flats to students. So not only are you sharing the apartment with 2 or 3 other foreigners that you don´t know (okay, sure, you have your own room--but not your own bathroom) you are also sharing it with the owner of the flat. So it´s like being in a dorm again and living with your house mother. I must say that after meeting a few house mothers, I found myself thinking...I am a thirty-year-old woman with a professional sassy attitude. Do I really want to live with students and a house mother?
I told Paco this, and he didn´t understand what the problem was. Look, I know it´s the custom and all, and I get the idea that it´s what most foreigners do, but I am not like most foreingers. I am Sassy Catalina, after all.
Well, unfortunately for Sassy Catalina, there was a bigger problem unfolding: when I would call about the few studios that did exist for rent, they either were already rented (even though the internet announcement had only been posted for one single day) or the owner wanted a longer lease than 5 months.
By yesterday afternoon, I was feeling quite frustrated at the prospects of spending every night and morning, searching internet leads and trying to be the first one to jump on it. Plus, the fact that I only needed a place until July was going to be a problem. And, the other problem was that many of the rental options were not near the center of the city. They were located far in the north, where the university district is, and after going up there last night to check it out, I was feeling a bit hopeless. I came to Madrid to live in Madrid, not to live in the residential university campus district.
So yes, Sassy Catalina was getting a bit fiesty and elitist about where she wanted to stay...but I really had no idea how to find better rental options. Then, out of the blue, I got a call for a studio for rent. The girl on the other line asked me if I wanted to meet at the studio in order for her to show it to me. You bet I wanted to!
I quickly rifled through all my notes because I had no idea who she was or where the studio was located or when I had left her the message. By this point, I had my notebook filled with notes about rentals. But she told me over the phone that it was a very small studio, but totally remodeled and completely new, and it was near the plaza de españa, which is perfect because that´s where I´m staying now (the center of Madrid without being in the touristy center). So I said, sign me up!
Actually, she told me the address and I told her I would meet her. (this is all in Spanish, please remember). Then, I set off to find the street of this magical studio. The name of the street was something I didn't recognize. Well, she explained to me on which side of the plaza de españa the street was...but she really only said, "you know where plaza de españa is, well it´s behind it. " Well, really, plaza de españa is a BIG rectangle with streets running along each side and more streets running off each of those streets. And since I never bought a proper Madrid street map before I left the US, I was a little bit fucked.
But off I went in search of the street. I asked some cute guys in a restaurant, because hey, why not (don´t worry, Danny, they were cute, but not that smart!) because they told me that I really wanted this other street (which after going in the wrong dirrection for awhile, my instincts finally told me that I was going the wrong way, looking for the wrong street.)
So then, I went back to the plaza de españa and approached a few cops, who despite trying to be helpful and calling all their cop friends on the radio, they really had no idea. They waved me up towards Princesa street with the vague notion that it was up there somewhere and that I should go ---->that way. After milling about----->that way, I saw a Pepsi truck driver, and thought to myself, this guy has to know what I´m talking about. Alas, he did not, but he was very nice and he had a big map of Madrid, and we looked on the back for the street, and Lo and behold, there it was in the map´s directory. Yay, for Pepsi truck drivers!
I hurried to the street and found out that it was at the top of plaza de españa, and not really the back, depending on your perspective, so I´m really glad that I asked someone who had a map, or else forgettaboutit.
Once I arrived, I realized it was about three minutes from where I´m staying now at my little brothel (inside joke if you´re coming into the blog late), and the location is perfect. Berta, the leasing agent, met me quickly, and show it to me, and indeed, it is tiny! But also very cute and new and perfect...and at this point, I was exhausted and frustrated and sad about my general lack of prospects, so I told Berta that I liked it (b/c I did!) and asked if the owner would be willing to rent it to me for only 5 months. She hesitated b/c like everyone else, she thought that 5 months might be too little. Also, there was another girl, an italian, coming to see it after me, so maybe it would be leased to her. (damn those italians!) Anyway, Berta told me she would call the owner and ask if 5 months was okay, and then, she would call me that night.
I left, thinking that if it was meant to be, then great. If not, then I would just have to keep searching...and I prepared myself mentally to keep searching. I made an appointment for one more place, but again, it was way far in the university district and it took me an hour and half to get myself there and back. And it was an even more complicated endeavor then finding the little studio apartment, let me tell you.
Are you getting the idea of how exhausting this whole process was becoming? And this was only the second day. Thank god for me that Berta called and told me that the owner agreed to lease it to me for 5 months until the end of July! Horray! And as an added bonus, the studio has not only a washing machine, but also a dryer, which is actually quite the rare thing in Spain. Double horray! No hanging my underwear everywhere to dry. Triple horray!
I took a train this morning to Aravaca, which just happens to be the same suburb where Paco lives, so it was helpful to know where I was going. Berta picked me up at the train station and took me to the leasing office where I signed all the documents and made the deposit. I pretty much understood everything in the contract--it was pretty basic--and while reading it in Spanish, I realized that after working in a real estate office for five years, I had seen enough leasing contracts to know what was in them, so translating the concepts from Spanish into English in my head was actually much easier than I thought it would be.
So now, I am the proud renter of a little studio apartment in the center of Madrid! Horray for me! The only problem is that the current renter doesn´t move out until the end of February, so I need to figure out what to do with myself until then, so I´m thinking I´ll just go to Rome next week.
Hey, why not!
I spend all day Sunday and Monday, searching on the internet, calling around, making appointments, and seeing different apartments, and let me tell you, two days was more than enough.
First of all, the custom here in Madrid is that old single women rent out rooms of their 3-4 bedroom flats to students. So not only are you sharing the apartment with 2 or 3 other foreigners that you don´t know (okay, sure, you have your own room--but not your own bathroom) you are also sharing it with the owner of the flat. So it´s like being in a dorm again and living with your house mother. I must say that after meeting a few house mothers, I found myself thinking...I am a thirty-year-old woman with a professional sassy attitude. Do I really want to live with students and a house mother?
I told Paco this, and he didn´t understand what the problem was. Look, I know it´s the custom and all, and I get the idea that it´s what most foreigners do, but I am not like most foreingers. I am Sassy Catalina, after all.
Well, unfortunately for Sassy Catalina, there was a bigger problem unfolding: when I would call about the few studios that did exist for rent, they either were already rented (even though the internet announcement had only been posted for one single day) or the owner wanted a longer lease than 5 months.
By yesterday afternoon, I was feeling quite frustrated at the prospects of spending every night and morning, searching internet leads and trying to be the first one to jump on it. Plus, the fact that I only needed a place until July was going to be a problem. And, the other problem was that many of the rental options were not near the center of the city. They were located far in the north, where the university district is, and after going up there last night to check it out, I was feeling a bit hopeless. I came to Madrid to live in Madrid, not to live in the residential university campus district.
So yes, Sassy Catalina was getting a bit fiesty and elitist about where she wanted to stay...but I really had no idea how to find better rental options. Then, out of the blue, I got a call for a studio for rent. The girl on the other line asked me if I wanted to meet at the studio in order for her to show it to me. You bet I wanted to!
I quickly rifled through all my notes because I had no idea who she was or where the studio was located or when I had left her the message. By this point, I had my notebook filled with notes about rentals. But she told me over the phone that it was a very small studio, but totally remodeled and completely new, and it was near the plaza de españa, which is perfect because that´s where I´m staying now (the center of Madrid without being in the touristy center). So I said, sign me up!
Actually, she told me the address and I told her I would meet her. (this is all in Spanish, please remember). Then, I set off to find the street of this magical studio. The name of the street was something I didn't recognize. Well, she explained to me on which side of the plaza de españa the street was...but she really only said, "you know where plaza de españa is, well it´s behind it. " Well, really, plaza de españa is a BIG rectangle with streets running along each side and more streets running off each of those streets. And since I never bought a proper Madrid street map before I left the US, I was a little bit fucked.
But off I went in search of the street. I asked some cute guys in a restaurant, because hey, why not (don´t worry, Danny, they were cute, but not that smart!) because they told me that I really wanted this other street (which after going in the wrong dirrection for awhile, my instincts finally told me that I was going the wrong way, looking for the wrong street.)
So then, I went back to the plaza de españa and approached a few cops, who despite trying to be helpful and calling all their cop friends on the radio, they really had no idea. They waved me up towards Princesa street with the vague notion that it was up there somewhere and that I should go ---->that way. After milling about----->that way, I saw a Pepsi truck driver, and thought to myself, this guy has to know what I´m talking about. Alas, he did not, but he was very nice and he had a big map of Madrid, and we looked on the back for the street, and Lo and behold, there it was in the map´s directory. Yay, for Pepsi truck drivers!
I hurried to the street and found out that it was at the top of plaza de españa, and not really the back, depending on your perspective, so I´m really glad that I asked someone who had a map, or else forgettaboutit.
Once I arrived, I realized it was about three minutes from where I´m staying now at my little brothel (inside joke if you´re coming into the blog late), and the location is perfect. Berta, the leasing agent, met me quickly, and show it to me, and indeed, it is tiny! But also very cute and new and perfect...and at this point, I was exhausted and frustrated and sad about my general lack of prospects, so I told Berta that I liked it (b/c I did!) and asked if the owner would be willing to rent it to me for only 5 months. She hesitated b/c like everyone else, she thought that 5 months might be too little. Also, there was another girl, an italian, coming to see it after me, so maybe it would be leased to her. (damn those italians!) Anyway, Berta told me she would call the owner and ask if 5 months was okay, and then, she would call me that night.
I left, thinking that if it was meant to be, then great. If not, then I would just have to keep searching...and I prepared myself mentally to keep searching. I made an appointment for one more place, but again, it was way far in the university district and it took me an hour and half to get myself there and back. And it was an even more complicated endeavor then finding the little studio apartment, let me tell you.
Are you getting the idea of how exhausting this whole process was becoming? And this was only the second day. Thank god for me that Berta called and told me that the owner agreed to lease it to me for 5 months until the end of July! Horray! And as an added bonus, the studio has not only a washing machine, but also a dryer, which is actually quite the rare thing in Spain. Double horray! No hanging my underwear everywhere to dry. Triple horray!
I took a train this morning to Aravaca, which just happens to be the same suburb where Paco lives, so it was helpful to know where I was going. Berta picked me up at the train station and took me to the leasing office where I signed all the documents and made the deposit. I pretty much understood everything in the contract--it was pretty basic--and while reading it in Spanish, I realized that after working in a real estate office for five years, I had seen enough leasing contracts to know what was in them, so translating the concepts from Spanish into English in my head was actually much easier than I thought it would be.
So now, I am the proud renter of a little studio apartment in the center of Madrid! Horray for me! The only problem is that the current renter doesn´t move out until the end of February, so I need to figure out what to do with myself until then, so I´m thinking I´ll just go to Rome next week.
Hey, why not!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Success and Failure
Sucess:
Well, today I successfully got the metro-bus ticket that they only sell to tourists. It´s a bus and subway combination ticket for unlimited use for seven days and it´s the most economical ticket available, until I´m able to get my monthly pass.
I asked for it in perfect Spanish from the ticket agent and he asked for my passport to verify that I was, indeed--a foreigner--because my Spanish was just that perfect. (Not really. Actually, he needed my passport number to issue it, but still, a girl can dream can´t she?)
Failure:
I started the apartment search today and found many cute little studios in many cute little areas and weren´t too expensive, and when I called about seeing each of them, every single one was already rented, and most of the rental announcements had just been put on the internet yesterday! Yikes. Clearly, finding an apartment to rent is going to be harder than I thought...and finding an apartment to rent for only five months is going to be impossible.
Well, today I successfully got the metro-bus ticket that they only sell to tourists. It´s a bus and subway combination ticket for unlimited use for seven days and it´s the most economical ticket available, until I´m able to get my monthly pass.
I asked for it in perfect Spanish from the ticket agent and he asked for my passport to verify that I was, indeed--a foreigner--because my Spanish was just that perfect. (Not really. Actually, he needed my passport number to issue it, but still, a girl can dream can´t she?)
Failure:
I started the apartment search today and found many cute little studios in many cute little areas and weren´t too expensive, and when I called about seeing each of them, every single one was already rented, and most of the rental announcements had just been put on the internet yesterday! Yikes. Clearly, finding an apartment to rent is going to be harder than I thought...and finding an apartment to rent for only five months is going to be impossible.
The Modern Spanish Family
Ana with her youngest daughter, Elena (who currenty has the chicken pox!).
Ester and Elena (my little cousins!)
Elena, just as she´s about to suck on my camera...she really liked sucking on my camera.
Ester y yo.
Little Elena taking a picture of my ass. Nice!
Abraham...I mean, my uncle Paco with his youngest daughter, Elena (the youngest cousin!).
Paco with his grandaughter, Sarah (the middle child of Maria)
La familia
This is the whole Family...Maria (my cousin and the oldest daughter of Paco) and her husband, Manuel, and their three children: Daniel, Sarah, and Oscar. And then Paco and his second wife, Ana, with their two little daughters (also my cousins) Ester and Elena! Did you get all that?
Winter in Madrid - Take 2!
Gran Via (the big street with Broadway shows and lots of excitement that´s right near my brothel) and Plaza de España (the main square that´s also very close!)
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Paco, you doth protest too much!
This is Paco, protesting about having his picture taken for my blog. I´m going to take the train to the suburbs on Saturday to have lunch with his wife, Ana, and there two little girls (my little cousins!) Paco´s oldest daughter, Maria, might meet us too, and bring her kids, so it might be one big kindergarten camp. Paco promises to feed me well, so I´m looking forward to it, so long as I don´t end up on the wrong train. Before I left for Spain, I heard a story on NPR about a woman in Thailand who got on the wrong bus, and instead, ended up in Laos or some other microscopic Asian country, and couldn´t get back to meet up with her family for 25 years.
Lovely.
Sorolla...what a score
After I left the Institute and while I waited for Paco to meet me for lunch, I strolled around the neighborhood and stumbled upon my future garden. Actually, it ended up being the former house and garden of Spanish painter Joaquin Sorolla, who is like the Spanish Renoir.
It was a great reprieve amongst the hussle of that morning, so I really enjoyed it. If you´ve never heard of him, you can click on this link: it will give you idea of the types of paintings he created. http://www.allposters.es/gallery.asp?aid=1804214426&c=&search=Joaquin+Sorolla&lang=4&GCID=s15100x015&KEYWORD=%5BJoaquin+Sorolla%5D&Referrer=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Egoogle%2Ees%2Fsearch%3Fhl%3Des%26q%3Djoaquin%2Bsorolla%26meta%3D&SAID=1804214426&SAIDTime=2%2F10%2F2007+2%3A18%3A03+AM&maid=1804214426&AffClickThroughID=924603200&TID1=10566
Citibank woes...
They turned on the heat, in the end, and I was given an extra blanket, so I think I might not freeze to death after all.
Yesterday was a busy day. In the hostal, we have to wake up by 10AM and leave our rooms, so that Salome can come and clean every morning (not really, but at least that´s a funny image--a belly dancer rapping on your door at 10AM to clean your room) .
But we should leave because they are very concerned about cleaning the rooms everyday, so it forces me to wake up and get on the Spanish schedule. It´s very quiet outside at 10AM in the morning. All of the boutiques are still shut up, and the streets are almost empty. I quite enjoy it.
Anyway, yesterday, was a bit stressful because I was worried about securing another hostal for next week. I can already tell that I will need at least until next week to search and secure a permanent place to stay--and it might take longer! I quickly toured around the neighborhood of my current hostel to look at my other options. Alas, they were quite disappointing. I was hoping to pay a bit extra to get a little room plus a kitchenette and washing machine, but the internet photos were not exactly the same as reality. I had high hopes for one place in particular, but in the end, it was much older than I expected, and each room was hidden behind a curtain. When I finally found the closet with the kitchenette, it was just that...a closet, and I thought to myself...am I really going to cook inside closet and behind a curtain? It was kind creepy, and it made me appreciate my little brothel more...
That morning, I also had plans to meet up with Paco that morning, so I had to hussle. The plan was to get myself to the Citibank in the old Anpudias neighborhood (where Dad´s studio used to be). From there, I would get some cashie-cahs and call Paco, so he could give me dirrections to his office. I figured I´d remember everything once I was I got myself to the old neighborhood, but clearly, my memory isn´t perfect. Although to be perfectly honest, I did do okay, once I stopped looking at the map, and just trusted my instincts. That seems to be the theme of this trip so far.
I finally stumbled upon it like a blue corporate beacon of finacial security in broad daylight. Unfortunately, I got there and realized that I had forgotten my ATM PIN at the hostel. I tried a few combinations (which in retrospect, seemed to be correct, which means there may be a problem with the card, but that´s a different drama to deal with on a different day) then remembered Dad´s story of having his card sucked up by the Spanish Citibank ATM machine and causing quite the Monty Python scene that only Dad can cause...and so, I stopped and called Paco.
Of course, Paco reminded me that I can just get money from the Citibank teller. Claro que si! Duh!
Anyway, once I met Paco, he took me to the Institute for English Studies to check out any postings and see if it could be a resource. But considering that the American kids hanging about were about twenty (although they looked more like 12 to me) and were talking about how drunk they were last night in the cafe, it made me reconsider finding a shared apartment with college students.
Yesterday was a busy day. In the hostal, we have to wake up by 10AM and leave our rooms, so that Salome can come and clean every morning (not really, but at least that´s a funny image--a belly dancer rapping on your door at 10AM to clean your room) .
But we should leave because they are very concerned about cleaning the rooms everyday, so it forces me to wake up and get on the Spanish schedule. It´s very quiet outside at 10AM in the morning. All of the boutiques are still shut up, and the streets are almost empty. I quite enjoy it.
Anyway, yesterday, was a bit stressful because I was worried about securing another hostal for next week. I can already tell that I will need at least until next week to search and secure a permanent place to stay--and it might take longer! I quickly toured around the neighborhood of my current hostel to look at my other options. Alas, they were quite disappointing. I was hoping to pay a bit extra to get a little room plus a kitchenette and washing machine, but the internet photos were not exactly the same as reality. I had high hopes for one place in particular, but in the end, it was much older than I expected, and each room was hidden behind a curtain. When I finally found the closet with the kitchenette, it was just that...a closet, and I thought to myself...am I really going to cook inside closet and behind a curtain? It was kind creepy, and it made me appreciate my little brothel more...
That morning, I also had plans to meet up with Paco that morning, so I had to hussle. The plan was to get myself to the Citibank in the old Anpudias neighborhood (where Dad´s studio used to be). From there, I would get some cashie-cahs and call Paco, so he could give me dirrections to his office. I figured I´d remember everything once I was I got myself to the old neighborhood, but clearly, my memory isn´t perfect. Although to be perfectly honest, I did do okay, once I stopped looking at the map, and just trusted my instincts. That seems to be the theme of this trip so far.
I finally stumbled upon it like a blue corporate beacon of finacial security in broad daylight. Unfortunately, I got there and realized that I had forgotten my ATM PIN at the hostel. I tried a few combinations (which in retrospect, seemed to be correct, which means there may be a problem with the card, but that´s a different drama to deal with on a different day) then remembered Dad´s story of having his card sucked up by the Spanish Citibank ATM machine and causing quite the Monty Python scene that only Dad can cause...and so, I stopped and called Paco.
Of course, Paco reminded me that I can just get money from the Citibank teller. Claro que si! Duh!
Anyway, once I met Paco, he took me to the Institute for English Studies to check out any postings and see if it could be a resource. But considering that the American kids hanging about were about twenty (although they looked more like 12 to me) and were talking about how drunk they were last night in the cafe, it made me reconsider finding a shared apartment with college students.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Winter in Madrid!
I was hoping to post a picture of me in Madrid, all sunny and warm and lovely. But instead, when I arrived, it was raining and frescito. But still, I made it here and had a great first day! Paco picked me up at the airport, despite the fact that the Iberia terminal is a far, far trek from the main airport. He told me not to take Iberia again, but how can I resist? I avoided the international terminal at O´Hara because Iberia is basically American Airlines (incognito), we left ontime, and our plane zipped across the Atlantic in just under 7 hours. Plus, if you speak Spanish to the flight attendants, they´re nicer to you than to the other passengers. How can you beat that?
(note to Dan: stop procrasinating and buy that dirt cheap Iberia ticket for May)
Anyway, Paco and I took the metro to my little hostel: el Pension Salome. I was hoping to take pictures, but sorry... finding food and water took priority. So here´s the link: http://www.berthold-von-regensburg.de/pension-salome-madrid/index_es.htm
Paco and Dad didn´t want me staying in the center of Madrid (despite the fact that´s where all the hostels are) because they said there are too many immigrants and the area has deteriorated. So I booked four nights in The Pension Salome, ignoring that it´s named after the slattern who belly-danced for King Herod and delighted him so much, that when he offered her whatever she wanted, she requested the head of John the Baptist. So I suppose it wasn´t a shocker when I heard through the Paco-Dad grapevine that the Calle de Pez--the street of my now booked reservation for four nights--is in the middle of the red light district. Well, in the end, although my little hostel is on la Calle de Pez, it is quite nice and does not resemble a brothel.
Anyway, Paco left me to sleep all day until 5PM! Then, I ventured out onto Gran Via, which is like New York´s Broadway street, and found my three basic necessities: bottled water, internet, and chocolate. At the internet cafe, I got waylaid by the goofy Spanish keyboard, and had to ask how to make this symbol: @. It´s Ctrl+Alt+2 for all you playing along. Yeah, I was basically intuil, (which in means "useless," in Spanish, until I figured that one out.)
Later, I got real dinner and circled back for more internet. I only have four nights booked at my little brothel hotel, and so, I have to stay ahead of my trip, and start looking for the next temporary place to stay. I think I could stay in Salome, but the low level of heat is going to be a problem for me! It might be a problem in general here!
Tomorrow, I will meet Paco for lunch and I´m going to use his university office to use his...you guessed it--internet!
Hopefully, I´ll be able to post some pics tomorrow!
(note to Dan: stop procrasinating and buy that dirt cheap Iberia ticket for May)
Anyway, Paco and I took the metro to my little hostel: el Pension Salome. I was hoping to take pictures, but sorry... finding food and water took priority. So here´s the link: http://www.berthold-von-regensburg.de/pension-salome-madrid/index_es.htm
Paco and Dad didn´t want me staying in the center of Madrid (despite the fact that´s where all the hostels are) because they said there are too many immigrants and the area has deteriorated. So I booked four nights in The Pension Salome, ignoring that it´s named after the slattern who belly-danced for King Herod and delighted him so much, that when he offered her whatever she wanted, she requested the head of John the Baptist. So I suppose it wasn´t a shocker when I heard through the Paco-Dad grapevine that the Calle de Pez--the street of my now booked reservation for four nights--is in the middle of the red light district. Well, in the end, although my little hostel is on la Calle de Pez, it is quite nice and does not resemble a brothel.
Anyway, Paco left me to sleep all day until 5PM! Then, I ventured out onto Gran Via, which is like New York´s Broadway street, and found my three basic necessities: bottled water, internet, and chocolate. At the internet cafe, I got waylaid by the goofy Spanish keyboard, and had to ask how to make this symbol: @. It´s Ctrl+Alt+2 for all you playing along. Yeah, I was basically intuil, (which in means "useless," in Spanish, until I figured that one out.)
Later, I got real dinner and circled back for more internet. I only have four nights booked at my little brothel hotel, and so, I have to stay ahead of my trip, and start looking for the next temporary place to stay. I think I could stay in Salome, but the low level of heat is going to be a problem for me! It might be a problem in general here!
Tomorrow, I will meet Paco for lunch and I´m going to use his university office to use his...you guessed it--internet!
Hopefully, I´ll be able to post some pics tomorrow!
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
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