Class, as I’ve stated time and time again, was boring. 2 hours of ser vs. estar practice. I think you’d go crazy, too. After class however, it was time to party. I previously wrote that I would tell the story of the India pants when I got some. I believe it is now due time for a good story.
I’m sure you’ve heard about the fashion in Europe. It’s like looking into the future for us Americans basically, because what you see them wearing now is most likely what YOU will be wearing 6 months from now. The first week here, I noticed a trend in women’s pants. They all strangely baggy and well, better put, looked just like hammer pants. They had jeans, sweats, and everything in between. I made a mental note that somewhere along the lines of my travels through Spain that I had to pick myself up a pair. Then I found the India store. Maybe it’s wrong that I am in Spain and all I want to buy is stuff from the India store, maybe it’s just a good little foreshadow of my future travels, all I know is that it is great, and I found my pants. They’re blue, 100% silk, and kinda make me wanna yell HAMMER TIME, bollywood style. There are no pictures yet… but when you see them, you will know.
After the purchasing, it was time for my other favorite thing in all of Spain- the pastry that goes by the name of “La Neopolitana”. Just writing that makes me salivate a little. These pastries are ambrosia, and I thought they couldn’t get any better until Jenessa took me to a new pasteleria where the pastries are served hot, are only 1 euro, and it is maybe 100 yards from my house. Score. Scratch that post about losing weight in Spain.
Lunch was great, but another little observation about Spaniards. They like their food right off the stove, piping hot. Seriously, I burn my tongue every time we eat. I would love to let it cool down a little, but the only issue there is the fact that Pili puts the food on the table, and just watches until we have tried it, waiting for feedback
I might just return to the US with no taste buds. The culprit of the burning yesterday was potato, onion, carrot soup with a name that is escaping me but was delicious, plus fried cauliflower that I managed to choke down.
After lunch we went into Madrid to take a tour of El Palacio Real because it was Free Museum Day here in Spain. The palace was pretty. In every room the curtains matched the walls matched the ceilings matched the pillows. I don’t really have much else to offer about it though… my partner had the audioguide, and I had no desire to listen to a monotone voice tell me all about each room. No thanks, I will make up my own stories about the murals on the ceilings!
I had been waiting all trip for the perfect day to go row boating in Retiro… and between the weather and the desire to paddle, we ended up on the metro and down to the park later that afternoon.
4 people, 45 minutes, 4.55 euros. Not too shabby. Things went well on our boat for the first couple minutes. No one fell in, we finally figured out how to stop going in circles, (Diana, it reminded me of our time down the Boise Riv solo when we lacked rowing skills) and we even had some rowing tunes thanks to Rick’s ipod. About halfway into our journey we switched drivers, and Brittany became captain. Her first order of business? Row us right into the fountain. In retrospect, I should have known this fountain business was bound to happen even before Rick said, “Hey Brittany! Get Alisha wet!”. Not only did Alisha get wet, but for a good solid minute, we were the dumb Americans serving as comic relief to the whole park as we got SOAKED in the little cherub fountain, our boat got an uncomfortable amount of water in the bottom, and Rick managed to drop, and then recover, his iphone into our little pool at the bottom of the boat.
I wish I could have seen it go down, but our other friends took some precious pictures, so once I get my hands on those, you and I too can laugh at our stupidity. My dress was soaked from the waist down, my “stain your feet when soaked” Rainbows did their job, and we managed to get back to shore safely at the end of our 45. PS you just can't tell how extremely wet I am here. Just trust me.
I am just getting all sorts of good stories to add to the Memory Bank.
Well, that’s about it for now… we’re almost to Cordoba, home of the Muslims. Til then!