Madrid

(apologies for the late response. I just got free access today.)

If you ever decide to travel out of the country I suggest not planning anything to do on the day of your arrival. When Pat and I arrived in Madrid on Thursday morning (June 5th) we were going on 30 straight hours and needed a break; except I was too excited to take a siesta. Instead, I forced some city explorations and we needed up just getting pissed about things. Friday was much better. We decided against extending our stay in a hostel in an effort to save money. So we stored our bags at the train station and headed out town. We visited The Prado museum, Spain's Royal Palace, and Madrid's Cathedral before dining out on Plaza Mayor. There, a stage was set up for some sort of traditional dance recital- they rolled out the red carpet and cameras followed Spain's high-rollers dressed in gowns and tuxedos. Afterwards, hit up the town and ended up hanging with two Guineans (West Africa) who didn't speak English. We communicated through charades and my broken Spanish and singing Bob Marley songs together. Good times.

At around 4 am, we headed to the train station (opened at five). Along the way I decided to jump out of the bushes and frighten Patrick. I ended up missing my landing and twisting my ankle. And so my inebriated bad luck has continued. To add injury to insult, I get seated next to a lady and her one-month old crying machine for the 5 hour trip to Granada (the train stopped for an hour in Aqumonte? while the engineer did some repairs). I am not sure how to describe my feeling at that time other than saying it was probably similar to Bennett's feelings after tumble-rolling down a hill in Germany and suffering a concussion.