My latest travel narrative

I didn´t do so hot on the first travel narrative gradewise, but I still like it. Thanks to everyone that put up something nice about it.

Here´s my latest, I guess I´ll see if I did any better. I think I went for a little different style. So here it is...

Thinking to Myself

I wake up late on a Saturday to a sudden RAP! RAP! RAP! On my bedroom door; it is my second weekend in Madrid and I am enjoying my bed entirely too much. My room mate, Austin, is still passed out in his bed, which is adjacent to mine. Just like every night, half of his blankets have found their way to the floor. Angel, our host Señor, walks briskly into the room with a burst of energy announcing that the paella is ready. Just having woken up, my stomach is in no mood for a meal of this caliber. Lazily, I take my time in brushing my teeth and washing my face, watching the bubbles disappear soundlessly down the drain. I think to myself, last night was great, and I could care less if the paella is cold when I sit down at the table. I continued to take my time, but eventually decided it was time to grub.
Walking from room to room in the hallway of our tiny Spanish apartment, I encounter a series of light switches that must be turned on and off in order to save on electricity costs. Upon returning home, I imagine my parents will appreciate the frugality that I have learned here. There is not an ounce of natural light that is able to pierce this dark, maze-like corridor; until I am able to find a light switch, I pretend I am a bat sending out sonar sounds, attempting to locate them. I have already knocked more than my fair share of figurines and pictures over, and I have barely just settled in.
I enter the kitchen and exchange Spanish greetings with Rosa, our host Señora. With an encompassing and inviting smile she speaks a million words a minute. I finally understand her when she says, “¡Pasa, pasa!” while motioning to the table. I quickly figured out that’s my cue to enter. As always, the home cooked Spanish meal looks and smells phenomenal. Rich, moist, deep yellow rice sits in front of me gently allowing its steam to fill the air. Mixed with the rice is a colorful array of vegetables, succulent chicken, which is still on the bone, tender ham, spareribs, and my favorite, chorizo. She knows this and puts chorizo in half the meals. Yea, I’ll probably get sick of it one of these days, but for now I’ll enjoy my fill. I can feel my hunger begin to rise as I devour this meal with my eyes. Voraciously, I attack with my weapons of choice: a fork and a knife set precisely to the left and to the right of my plate. I can always count on finding the spoon to my right. Over the course of almuerzo we speak solely in Spanish and discuss the events which have occurred between our meals together. I enjoy the family oriented setting in which we live; it reminds me of home when I was young. My father would ask questions and intently listening to my responses. The atmosphere is similar here and provides a level of comfort despite the language and cultural barriers. There is a basketball game on TV and our conversation quickly moves there. If I understand correctly, Angel explains how he used to teach some of the players in University. Soon, Almuerzo ends with a salud! and a chupito of hierba liquor on ice.
Walking back through the dark labyrinth that leads to me room, I think to myself, God damn I gotta let this food settle. At this point I desperately need to lie down, so I switch on the TV and catch the end of Abre Los Ojos, the Spanish original that Vanilla Sky (that weird movie with Tom Cruise) was based on. Surprisingly, I enjoyed the original more. And, watching Penelope Cruz is always a plus. I think to myself, she was born in Madrid. What are my chances of finding her and sweeping her off her feet while I am here? Probably slim to none, but hey, a guy can hope.
The movie ends, my stomach is about as settled as it’s gonna get, and I am motivated to get the hell out of my small room. There is an entire city out my window to explore. On this particular day, I decided to go solo, just to see what happens. I can make my own agenda at my own pace. It feels like less responsibility. I start thinking, I haven’t seen Plaza Mayor yet, so that’s where I head to. On my way to the Metro I ask an old man, “¿Sabe donde esta la Plaza Mayor?” He hasn’t the slightest clue, but points me in the direction of the Metro. Poor old man, at least he tried to help…I guess. I decide to wing it. Someone once told me it might be near Banco de España.
Switching colored Metro lines and traversing across Madrid, I think to myself, this is odd. Where are all of the street musicians that flood the Metros and their stations? Maybe they take the weekends off? I wait and ride the train in silence; I am in no rush and go as I please.
Arriving at Banco de España, I am enthralled to get out of the Metro and into the warm Spanish sun. I think of another oddity. It’s really just the same sun everywhere you go. It’s weird that you hear people calling it the Spanish, the Arctic, or the California sun. It’s always that same one. I try not to dwell on it. Plus, I don’t see any sign of Plaza Mayor, so I walk straight. After making my way through a small park and passing countless people, I find innumerable buildings that flood my visual senses, an obelisk and eternal flame dedicated to all those whom have died for Spain, the Prado Museum, and finally a real treasure that would soon become a weekend tradition during my stay in Madrid.
Parque Buen Retiro lies ahead just in the distance and I am struck with awe at its beauty. I am about to enter into a large garden with extremely well pruned trees and bushes. I start thinking to myself, damn I worked landscaping all summer and I can’t prune a bush like that for the life of me. Now, these bushes were pruned to perfection. They arced, swirled, shaped and formed perfect spheres, bends and circles. I was utterly amazed at these Spanish landscaping skills. Something immediately pushes this little jealousy out of my mind. From the distance, I hear the faint THUD BUMP BUMP THUD of drums. I feel like a shark smelling blood a hundred miles away in the ocean, and am instantly drawn to the tribal music.
I walk for a while, pass through a wooded area and emerge in front of a lake dotted with little row boats, number 23, 16, 45, 8, and so on. I think to myself, how do I get one of those boats? Maybe I can invite Penelope Cruz when I finally find her. That could be perfect.
I can sense the drums getting closer, so I walk along the edge of the lake. Little kids are joking with their parents, a bagpipe player blows up his bag and begins a tune, dogs run and bark, and a costumed Whinney the Pooh scares a man half to death.
Finally, I find the source of drums. I enter into a large plaza surrounded by columns and a wall bench. The bench is lined with free spirited people banging, thudding, and pounding away on their congos, djimbes, and wooden boxes. I think to myself, have I really just found this? It reminds me of the music festivals I have been to back home. I enjoy the communal feeling of sharing drums and I watch everyone pass around their beers, Coca Colas and cigarettes. I watch a woman dressed in snakeskin whistle, stomp her feet and clap her hands. Immediately overjoyed with the scene, I drop to a sitting position to take it all in. Not more than a minute later, I see familiar faces across the crowd. I stand and throw an excited hand into the air, hoping to catch their attention. They see me, and I navigate through crowd. How random, I think to myself, that I can travel solo, but still find my friends in out of the ordinary places. I do enjoy this sheer unpredictability.
We talk and decide that the drums have a magnetic quality, causing all of us to gravitate towards this central, cultural experience. We all share the same affinity for live music, and this scene overwhelmingly satisfies that craving.
I have my friends, but I want more. I want to be a part of the culture. I think to myself, how can I join in? Perfect! Two guys kicking around a hackey sack. I stroll over and casually ask if they mind an extra player. They oblige, and I am stoked because three is an optimal hack circle number. One man has some perfected skills, but the other is clearly just learning. The first man kicks the hack from the ground with his short legs and bounces it on his foot, being careful to keep it low. He sends it on a wide arc to the taller man, who clumsily kicks it far off into the distance. I think, way to go buddy. One day you´ll get it. He retrieves the hack and passes it my way. I hit it with talent, stall it on my left foot and pass it with precision. The man with short legs is happy to have me there, so we play for over an hour.
Tired from the game and that hot ´´Spanish´´ Sun, which is now beginning to set, I sit with my friends and a bottle of wine near the lake. We talk and watch a group of young Spaniards. I think to myself, what would it be like to grow up in this city? Continuing with my thoughts, I realize the extent of my satisfaction at this point. If I were a glass, I would be half full. I want to bottle up this feeling, cork it, and save it for a day when I may be feeling blue. I smile. This was just another perfect day in Madrid where I am left with my thoughts, memories and that warm feeling.

Spain Update

I am finding this harder than I imagined to actually keep up with a blog. At my house, I am only able to access the internet roughly once a week.... I have to constantly wait for an open wireless signal. If only it were easier. I have internet access at school, but my days are usually filled with class, reading, homework and exploring Madrid and the surrounding areas. I have also been keeping a travel journal for my travel writing class. If time allows, I will take select writings from it and put them online.
Anyway, Madrid constantly amazes me with the plethora of activities to do. On Tuesday night I went to a Real Madrid game with a bunch of the other students in my program. They played against Real Zaragoza, but lost in the end. We sat up in the 7th tier, roughly midfield, and had a great view of everything. I didn´t think that I liked soccer, or futball, until that night. With over 85,000 people crowding the giant stadium, my enthusiasm for the game was fueled immensly by their excited cheers and overall passion for the game. At the game I sat next to a Spaniard and he explained much of the game to me. He pointed out Ronaldo, who is one of the world´s best futball players, and David Beckham. I expected more from Beckham considering his popularity. It seemed like every time he touched the ball, it resulted in a change of possession. I can´t wait for another game.
Last Friday I went on a day trip to Segovia, which is roughly an 1 1/2 from Madrid. While there I saw a cathedral, the best preserved Roman Aquaduct in the world, and a tremendous castle. In the castle, my friend Lindsey and I took the medieval helmets off the knights and tried them on. Luckily we didn´t get caught, but we did get some great photos. You can check them out on the picture website that´s listed a few blogs down.
I´ve have been reading a lot here. The weather is amazing and it is a great excuse to be outdoors. I read my first Ernest Hemingway book, Fiesta: The Sun Also Rises. It was amazing and I am excited to read another... there are so many to choose from. His writing style is simple, yet incredibly descriptive and it drags you into the story. I enjoyed reading small bits at a time because it would constantly bring me into the world he had created. Not that I have any desire to escape the reality that I am living, but it is always nice to see something different.
Spring break is all set. Yesterday, I booked a trip to Tunisia... Looks like this kid is going to Africa. The trip is for 8 days and 7 nights in an amazing hotel directly on the beach. I got an amazing deal because it is so cheap there. While in Tunisia, I will be able to explore via camel back, jet ski, swim, parasail, relax, and so on. I know it is weeks away, but I just can´t wait.

If you´re interested...

I am currently taking a class called Travel Writing and Modern Literature. I signed up for this class because it would further motivate me to write about my stay here... basically if I don´t, my grades plummet. I will truely appreciate it when I am old. My first assignment was to write about something that I have seen, done or experienced since my arrival in Europe. I wrote it over the weekend and it is a little blip about a jazz club I went to Friday night. It is under peer review now, so this is the first rough copy. Read on if you are interested...

“Her”

They told us never to go to Plaza del Sol while in Madrid. They said, “You’ve heard about the Bermuda Triangle, right? Well Sol is part of the Madrid Triangle; all of your possessions just seem to disappear.” They even went so far as to map the no-go area out for us. Sometimes I can be a punk-ass kid and ignore authority figures. It’s true; I always want what I can’t have. It is said that curiosity killed the cat. I thank God that I am a human. Scoffing at their comparison, that night I hopped on my high horse and headed to Sol to check out the night life. Honestly, the Bermuda Triangle, not to say that I have actually seen it, could not possibly have this much culture. Sol is the Times Square, La Rambla, Champs Elysee, of Madrid; the drinks are pricier, the people are louder, it is a place you just have to see. A ‘necessity.’ With my wallet in my front pocket and a clear head, I step out of the metro and into life. To my left a band plays loudly. It is a tune indigenous to South America, which there is quite a bit of in Madrid. The song attracts a melee of locals and tourists alike. Looking into the street, cars whiz by, weaving between pedestrians and each other, carrying the patrons of the night to their own personal destinations. As a fellow night patron, I too have a destination, more exact than the whole of Sol.
Entering the smoky bar, jazz floods my senses. I can hear it; I can see it; I can smell it in the air; I can taste it; breathe it in. The walls are covered with pictures of the greats, retired instruments, and flyers for both the past and the upcoming events. This place is clutch and I am in gear. I am one Cuba Libre down and I see Her. Had I listened to them earlier, I never would have gone to Sol. More precisely, I never would have seen Her. At first glance, she is nothing special. She is no more than a middle aged woman who has let the years affect her no more than a normal human. She does not interest me by any means. But, as with anything and everyone worth noting, there is a clear-cut, defining moment that elevates a mundane existence to that of a superior status. Out of no where, this woman had it. She made that leap to superiority. I watch her rise from halfway across the smoke filled bar. I watch her through the haze as she begins to dance. I watch her dance and I want to be in her head, walk a mile in her shoes. At this point I only have my imagination. With no more than my imagination I venture inside my head, attempting to get inside her head. Dancing like no one is watching, she moves to the beat, lives the groove and allows the flow to penetrate her every nerve. She knows she is aging, but why let that stop her. Those hips can still carve curves into the smoke filled air. She sees herself in a red Spanish dress, the type with the ruffles that flood to the ground and the bells that clink with every minute movement. She’s wearing her favorite dancing shoes; their broken in from countless nights on this same floor. Young again and without a care she is in her head, she sees herself as perfect as ever. Provoking these feelings, these emotions, the music continues to play on. Instantaneously, she catches the beat of the bass. The musician’s fingers meander over the strings and she sways, dips, stomps her feet to his tune. She remembers a club that is not much like this one, way back from her youth. Only the music is the same. She is in her head with no more than her imagination and she has returned to that club without a physical sense. Familiar as ever, the faces smile as she takes center stage. The dance floor clears and the light strikes her every movement, accentuating her youthful beauty. Continue to move, graceful, yet forceful she is strong with a sense of empowerment. She has the power, the power of attraction. She knows everyone is watching, but continues to dance as if no one is. The night is growing late, and the jazz musicians puff their last cigarettes and finish their final cocktails onstage. I can feel their music coming to an end, and I believe She can, as well. She shakes those hips, cuts them sharp in one final twist and her night of dancing is over. Sitting with an overwhelming sense of enjoyment, her eyes are beautiful and beaming. As she takes her pack of Ducados out of her little Spanish purse, she waits a moment to light one up and glances around the room. With a little smile, I wink and she knows I’ve been watching her dance. She turns back towards the stage and I can see the flicker of her lighter. Inhaling deeply, she smokes her cigarette with great satisfaction. She has earned this moment. The cloud of smoke crosses the threshold of her lips into the air and it lingers a moment before mixing into the haze, just as this She and this night will mix into the whole experience of my stay in Madrid.

I finally motivated my self to put some pictures online. Check them out at: http://community.webshots.com/user/travelkid101

A little more Paris

I definitely fell behind in terms of blogging here. I don't really have much to say about Paris. We went to lunch at the Louvre, which was great. My only complaint was about the salad and the amount of time we had to venture among the art. The salad sucked... the combined three of my least favorite foods in one plate: olives, vinegar, and shrimp... and put it in front of me. I tried it, but there is no changing these tastebuds. After lunch we checked out The Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo and countless other impressive statutes, paintings, carvings, etc. We only had an hour and a half, but I could have spent days there. From the Louvre, our group took a boat tour of Paris on the river Seinne. We passed the Eiffel Tour and it was lit up against the night sky. Amazing to see.
Paris was a beautiful city and great to explore (I even got a pretty good graps of their metro system in a relatively short amount of time), but the night life wasn't really for me. Some friends and I went to a discoteque that was supposedly the best in Paris. Listening to the incessent thumping of house music for hours on end just left me with a headache. Now, the people in Paris are like non other I have ever seen. First off, being an American guy, it is virtualy impossible to speak with the French girls; they seem to have nothing but contempt for Americans. The style there is also overwhelming. I wore a sport coat and jeans. Bad idea... the key is to blend in and I stuck out like a sore thumb. I couldn't blend into Paris unless I had a cockatoo hair cut or mullet (I have no clue why Europeans rock the mullet... reminds me of 80s hair metal or maybe some hicks in Arkansas.) and wore the trendiest ripped up clothing possible. The wierdest part about the experience was the dancing, which is not necessarily a shared experience. Everyone seems to dance by themselves, zoning out to the house music while staring at the DJ.

That's really all I have for Paris. I saw the sights. The Louvre, Eiffel Tour, Notre Dame, countless bridges. But, I don't really have any knack to return any time soon. Maybe when I am old and married.

Paris

At this point, the bus rides are starting to kill me. Tiny seats and minimal leg room are not my best friend. I know I´m not all that tall, but the seats need to give a little. There was still no sleep for me on the ride to Paris.

We arrived and I realized that I was pretty much out of all the cash that I had brought. In addition, I had not yet contacted my bank to let them know I was going to be spending money abroad, so if I used my card, my account would freeze. I didn´t want to deal with that. After a while I finally got that all cleared up and was able to eat again.

Paris is a beautiful city, probably the most beautiful in the world.

To be finished later...

Germany

We took a long ass bus ride to Germany. I couldn´t sleep on the bus, but as soon as we got to Deutsche Bank in Frankfurt, I fell asleep during the lecture. I really didn´t want to be rude, but I couldn´t help it. Long nights and jet lag continued to plague me. While we only staying in Frankfurt long enough for the Deutsche Bank info session, I was glad to leave because the entire city appeared dead. As it turns out, most people live outside of Frankfurt and travel into the city to work during the days. The night life is non existent.

About an hour later, we arrived in a nice little town called Heidelberg. It is located directly on River Neckar. Walking around the streets, I realized that Heidelberg was exactly how I pictured a small German Town . Everything was made of brick and there were beer taverns on every corner. It´s too bad that the food wasn´t as good as the beer. Regardless, I did find some inexpensive food.

We stayed at the Perkeo hotel, which was right in the center of Heidelberg (I think). At night a bunch of us went to the local Hard Rock Cafe, which supposedly had no relation to the chain of Hard Rock Cafes, but they may have been pulling our legs a little with that one. From there, we checked out a local bar called Alex because that´s where all the local students go to. Turns out that was truth. After, we got some cheap Kebabs from a middle eastern late night restaruant for like 3 Euros...Great night overall.

The next day we went to the Mercedes-Benz truck production plant and learned about the DaimlerCHrysler merger. We had a full tour of the entire plant and watched every different production step from unloading of materials to the completion of a truck. It was, by far the most well orchestrated tour of the trip. From there, we went back to Heidelberg and I walked up to Heidelberg castle. First experience at a castle, and a good one at that. The place was gigantic and it was on a top of a very high hill that was a bitch to climb, but I was ready for the Trek.

After the castle, we had housing meetings and scheduling... boring. I found falarfels for €2... thought it was a great deal until I actually ate it. Lots of cabbage soaked in vinegar and dry falarfel. That night we met up with the other Eurovision group and went back to the place called Alex. There weren´t as many people there, but it was fun to be with os many Americans again. Some wierd dude with long hair was smiling at all of us while he drank alone the entire night. The only word to describe him is ´wierd.´ Heidelberg was deffinitely a fun place, but I wouldn´t want to stay for more than two nights.

Ready to kick back and get some rest, I got to Amsterdam. We were given an hour to get settled in before the initial Eurovision Orientation so I immediatel went out to find a big cup of coffee... in Europe you generally have to sit down an enjoy your coffee. There is not much of the good old American rush around on the go get your business done quicly mentality. Life here is much more relaxed and laid back. Anyway, the coffee didn´t affect me so much and I fell asleep multiple times during the orientation. Later we went to the Van Gogh museum, where I also fell asleep. This was followed by more orientation that included more dozing. As a welcoming gift, we were taken out to dinner on behalf of Eurovision. The food was pretty good considering it was a set menu. After dinner I walked around with some friends and we ended up getting lost for about an hour because every single house, canal, and street looks exactly the same. Turns out we kept walking down streets that were parallel to our hotel. Go figure. After my roughly 48 hour day I passed out within seconds.

Wake up call sucked at 7am. I had only been asleep for a few hours due to the fact that we had gotten lost the previous night. After breakfast I was still dead tired and my internal clock had no idea what was going on. We went to the Anne Frank house, which was a complete eye opener, yet I still managed to fall alseep at some points during the lecture. Needless to say, it made me feel like an ass... but I couldn´t help it. Lack of sleep definitely gets to me. After Anne Frank, we were treated to a full tour of the Heineken brewery followed by all the free samples, sausages and cheese we could handle. It was awesome... I have never tried so many good beers. The Heineken and Amstel Boks where the best beers and I´ll probably never have the chance to try them again. It was a very notable experience.

After the Heineken tour, a few of us went to dinner at a place called Local. It was damn good. We sat at a long, straight table because all of the buildings in Amsterdam are deep, thin and tall due to the taxes. The wider a building is, the higher it is taxed. For dinner we had skewered duck, chicken, beef and shrimp. Also there was salad, good potatoes and beer. The price was pretty good as well. After dinner we went to explore the Red Light district. What a ridiculous place. There were more fat, black hookers dancing in windows than I have ever imagined. The girls I was with were a little freaked out because guys kept offering to pimp them out. That was definitely an uncomfortable experience for them. We went to a bunch of diffrent bars and I drakn some absinthe for the first time. It is actually really gross... very strong and tastes like unsweetened black licorice. Amsterdam was a great time and I would like to go back and explore some more. in the future.

One very important note about Amsterdam is to watch out for the bicycle riders. They own the streets and don´t stop for anyone. If you hear a bell, get out of the way cause they´re not going to stop for you. I watched a bike rider plow through an entire group of girls on my Eurovision group... it was hilarious...

NYC

NYC was a great time with the family and friends. Thursday night we arrived and found the hotel after a map dabacle. We got some Italian food for dinner on Broadway and saw The Producers, which was hilarious... great first Broadway experience. After the show I met up with Ivan, Kofi and some of their friends. We went to a hookah bar where we got the first one on the house. Mike, Hil and I made it back to the hotel by 3am. Later night than I expected, but well worth it. Friday morning we woke up late and walked around NYC for hours. The NY public libarary was huge and there was a cool exhibit about relgious books. Later that day Austin flew into Jersey and took a bus to the city. We met up with some other guys from the fraternity including Coop, Schaef, Jack, Kofi, and Ivan. Got some dinner at Carmines... lots of pasta, chicken and fried calamari. After dinner we went to a bar called Jake´s dilemma where they had good beers, beer pong, foosball and different rooms. We chilled out in the back room and ordered drinks from the waitress... all in all it was an awesome time.

The next morning I woke up and said my goodbyes to the family after going out for a huge lunch. They were kinda sad to see me off but I am glad they were there. My shuttle bus arrived late, which makes no sense to me considering how he drives. We started off alright in NYC, but once we got on the bridge to Long Island, all hell broke loose. This dude gunned it over the bridge, flew off an exit ramp, blasted around corners, through stop signs, over pot holes. This old Australian woman sitting next to me was clutching my arm for her dear life... poor old woman, I thought she was going to have a heart attack. As we blew past boats and wharehouses, all I could think of was this man driving onto a boat, a large door closing behind us, and we would sail out the ocean where I would become a work slave in Indonesia. That was not the case. Finally the clincher came when the driver flew through a red light while beeping incesentlly in order to cut through two cars sending them both to the sides of the two lane road. We made it to JFK unscathed... no bruises, dents, cuts or anything of that nature... just a little freaked out.

I made it into the airport.... last one on the shuttle bus, first one off. It took about an hour to check in and I was surprised to see a lot of people I knew. I was a little nervous for the long flight, so I got a beer at the airport. I was joined shortly after by the kid behind me in line and his family. They bought a bunch of food for us, but I couldn´t eat because of the huge meal I had with my family before going to the airport. Eventually we boarded the plane and took off. It was one long ass flight and I couldn´t sleep for the life of me, which is generally the case. Luckily there was an extensive movie and TV selection... I watched Four Brothers, The 40 Year Old Virgin, The Simpsons, Scrubs and some other food stuff. We arrived in Amsterdam at at about 8am ready to start the day... really, I just wanted to sleep considering my internal clock was screaming ´´its 2am go to sleep!!!´´

To be updated later...

Last Day Home

I'm listening to some music and attempting to relax before I enter final preparations mode for my trip. I leave tomorrow for New York City > Amsterdam > Heidelberg > Paris > Geneva >Toulouse > Barcelona > Madrid. The mere fact that I will be away for an entire 5 months simply amazes me, and I can't wait for it to begin. Beyond what I will learn in Europe, the experience is what I am looking forward to most. I am on the verge of seeing and experiencing so many new and various adventures, sights, cities, towns, cultures, people and so on. Exactly what is to be expected escapes me. What I am expecting is to be involved with as much as possible. I want to see and do everything. No regrets, straight up.