Here We Go...

Blogs are dumb, but some of you have asked that I give updates on what has been going on here during my stay in Europe for the next month, so here you go. This place is called Existential Dread because it's what a psychiatrist once told me that I was living in, so I thought it would have been a cool title for a book if I ever made something of myself. I didn't and probably won't, so this is what I am calling my blog. I might have been in dread a few years back, but really, travelling around Europe does not equal dread. Life is good.

This is my second full day in Madrid, but I'd better get you caught up on how everything went down before I got here.The flights out to Europe were pretty simple enough. The only problem I had was the inability to sleep flying from Chicago to Dublin. I made the stupid decision to stay up all night the previous day, thinking I could sleep on the plane. WRONG. It was a pretty miserable, but made tolerable by the fact that Aer Lingus gave me a free upgrade to economy plus, giving me a window seat in the first row behind first class. I spent most of my time looking out the window during the flight. There was a brilliant moon out, and it illuminated the Atlantic Ocean below me. There was something incredibly soothing about seeing each ripple in the ocean moving in the opposite direction of where we were going.

When I got into Dublin, I was really excited to head into town and visit some of the sites that I didnt have the opportunity to see last year. I bought my shuttle bus ticket into the city and made the ride into the city center. The bus dropped me off in the Temple Bar area (aka where all the tourists are). I walked about a mile out to the Archaeology Museum before I noticed how empty the streets were- no tourists in sight. I had completely forgotten that it was Sunday, and that most everything didn't open up until after noon or not at all... including the pubs. Wow. I came to Dublin to just look at a bunch of closed signs on doors and windows. I was screwed. Since there wasnt anything I could do, I decided to walk out to the River Liffey so I could nod off on a bench while watching young punker kids walk by looking like they just came out of a UK/Sex Pistols 1978 time warp, and the painful sounds of U2 being played by some guy with a boom box (I'm not kidding, U2 is overplayed there. I know they're proud of them and all, but still... my ears are slowly bleeding).

I must have been on the bench for an hour and a half, looking like a fat junkie with my constant nodding off and wrinkled/stinky clothes. I must have been a sight to see. I decided to get up and try to find something to eat so I could stretch my time out and not spend it looking like a transient. I made my way back into Temple Bar and found a place called the Bad Ass Cafe. They serve breakfast all day, and it looks like a fine establishment where you can have a Guiness with your beans and eggs in the morning after a night of partying at the clubs, and that's what it was inside. Irish kids probably not much older than 18 hiding their faces behind sunglaseses, boys with weird hair wearing pink Paris Hilton t-shirts, and girls looking like they just finished turning tricks around the corner all hovering over their plates of white pudding and beans while talking about how amazing the previous night was and how much they hated their lives. I felt their pain. At least about feeling miserable, that is. It's kind of hard to enjoy being where you are if you feel like you have a desert in your eye sockets and an anchor in your feet.

Anyways, the food was good for being so bad, and I decided to head to the airport after 5 hours of doing absolutey nothing in Dublin. I'm sure I'll be back, but I would like to get outside of the city next time and explore the countryside. It looks beautiful from the sky. It was about this time that I remembered that I forgot to pack my camera's battery charger, so that means only a few photos before my camera dies - not a good thing considering I was planning on taking tons of pictures during my time in Pompeii next week. Crap.

When I got off the plane here in Madrid, it was like a shot of energy hit my body and I was ready to take on the entire city. I was really excited to be back here, and I couldnt wait to check into my hotel so I could dump all of my stuff off and get going on the streets. When I got to my hotel, the Hostal Cruz Sol, near Plaza Mayor, I came across a bum who kind of had a passing resemblence to Charles Manson. He had a huge poster tube type of thing in his hands, and he screamed while making a slashing movement from his back all the way down near my head, stopping short of striking me. I gave him a dirty look and he gave me a mentally imbalanced stare (hard to describe, he definitely didnt have all his marbles). What an interesting start to my stay back in Madrid.

After checking-in, I walked out to look for some tapas at bars across the neighborhood. I jumped from one place to another, eventually making my way up to an area close to the red light district near Grand Via. I stepped into bar that serves little sandwiches and beers for 1 Euro each, so I filled up fast and cheap on some really delicious selections of food. After I finished, I heard a commotion outside, so I decided to see what was up. I walked down the street headed down to the main plaza in Madrid, the Puerta del Sol, when a prostitute (she was wearing a one piece outfit that made her body look like sausage stuffed in casing- YUCK - and her makeup was over-the-top... almost circus clown worthy) grabbed my sleeve and pulled me back violently, enough so that I had to turn back to talk to her because I needed my arm back. She had quite a motor mouth on her, and she asked if I wanted this or that for a low, low price. I kept walking as she laughed behind my back. Undoubtedly, her mom and dad are proud of her.

When I got to Puerta del Sol, there was a huge throng, probably 200-300 people dressed in blue and white, holding flags of Argentina and singing national anthems while climbing the statues scattered around the square. I had assumed they beat Mexico in "el Munidal" (the World Cup), and the expat commuity here came out to celebrate. It was interesting to see, but what I really want to see is what would happen here if Spain beat Portugal in their match-up Tuesday evening. It's all the rage here, and hopefully Spain can pull out a win so I don't get my head smashed in by that bum.

My second day saw me waking up around 1pm. I slept for about 12 hours, and it felt so good after not having slept for a couple of days. The entire day was a tapas adventure from me, as I jumped from bar to bar and tasted lots of different things, like patas bravas (potatoes in a spicey sauce), acetunas (olives -lots of different kinds), many different types of jamon (ham) and queso (cheese) from around Spain, tortillas de patata (a pie-like dish made out of eggs and potatoes... very soft and tasty), and whatever the waiter gave me whenever I ordered my beer. Each beer comes with a tapa, whether it be one of these things, or an assortment of nuts or chips. I was at one bar where a man cutting the meats was really excited to see if I liked the chorizo he gave me, and asked me if I thought he cut them well. He seemed really happy about his work, so he kept rewarding me with lots of yummy things to stuff my face with. I paid 1.50 for my beer and got enough food to last me for the rest of the night. That's one of the things I love about Spain. Friendly people and lotsof great quality food for dirt cheap prices, if you can find the right spots. If you talk to people and speak their language, or at least make an effort to try, you will usually get rewarded with anything from a smile to free food or drink. I don't want to leave Madrid, but I have Rome next, so I can't complain. There's just something about Spain that really makes me feel comfortable (aside from being able to speak Spanish), and a big part of that is the people and the environment they've made here in their country. Its truly one of the great and underappreciated countries of the world.

Today, I am sitting at a cafe called Cafe de Oriente, right next to the Royal Palace in Madrid. There is a large statue and gardens next to my table, with a great view of the palace (as you can see in the photo above). I know I am going to pay out the nose for this coffee, but its worth it. The view is spectacular, and the vibe is extremely mellow. There is a little tension in the air across, as Spain plays Portugal tonight in an elimination game in the world Cup. There are flags of Spain flying from balconies, and people are walking around in their national jerseys. Yesterday at a sporting goods store, while looking at soccer jerseys and handling a Portugal shirt (Jordan is of Portuguese descent), a worker game up to me and said rather loudly "You guys are going to LOSE tomorrow!" I told him to take a look at the size of the jersey (medium) compared to me, and told him I was looking for somethig for my girlfriend. He was much nicer after I cleared all that up. He actually seemed offended that I was supporting Portugal in any way. It should be crazy tonight. The police presence here has grown compared to yesterday, and I expect quite a scene here if they win tonight, and probably a really somber city if Portugal takes them down. In any event, it should be quite an interesting experience!

Time for more tapas and beer.

-Scott