What I had planned on doing on Saturday the 7th was to go to Cuenca by train and see a bunch of art museums there. What actually happened was the opposite of that. Sort of. Abram and I ended up missing the train on accident by one minute, literally, and not being able to get refunded or exchanged tickets for any other train except the next one that day. That was all fine and good except for the fact that the next train left at 4:30 PM and didn't get to Cuenca until about 7:15. Ouch! So much for a day in Cuenca! Turns out it was not one of my favorite mistakes I've ever made, but what's done is done, so we took the hit to our wallets and decided to make the most of our day regardless. We walked around some parts of Madrid we hadn't seen before and ended up back over by the Museo de Prado. We figured if we weren't going to see all the cool art museums in Cuenca we might as well see a good one in Madrid.
We weren't disappointed, that's for sure. Having been to the Louvre in Paris I have a feel for what a big museum is. The Prado isn't that big, but it is a sight to see. There were seemingly endless hallways and wings branching off in different directions, to the point that after spending about 4 hours there we only got through a little more than a third of it. We saw paintings by Goya and Velazquez, among many others, but the one that really blew me away was in the temporary exhibit which was displaying artwork by famous artists from Great Britain. If you aren't familiar with the painting Flaming June by Frederic Leighton, I recommend you do a google image search and acquaint yourself with this painting. Now, once you've pulled up a high-resolution version of it, take a good long look and imagine that it looks 10 times more vivid, colorful, detailed, and bright. That's how it looked in the museum. I say all this because I had seen pictures of it before, but no picture really does it justice. I can honestly say it is probably the coolest painting I've ever seen in person with my own two eyes. Considering that, I didn't feel so bad about missing the train to Cuenca.
The next day Abram and I went back to Madrid mid-morning and went to El Rastro, the famous outdoor flea market near the Lavapies area of town. There were literally hundreds of booths lining the streets, selling just about everything you could think of buying at a flea market. We had fun walking through the crowds of people and seeing what all was there, and I ended up getting some cool stuff for friends and family, plus a t-shirt for myself, all for only about 25 euros. You can't beat the prices at this place, that's for sure. After that we met up with a girl named Rachel who we had met at the botellon at the school that past Thursday, and got lunch in Madrid with her. All of us then went to Parque de Retiro to meet up with some of her friends, and we all spent the rest of the afternoon there hanging out, picnicking, playing futbol, and playing word games in Spanish. It turned out to be another fun day in Madrid, and rounded out the weekend nicely.
My school load finally lightened up a bit last week, so I wasn't quite so stressed out going into this last weekend. It was a good thing too, because although it turned out to be a good one, it started off a little shakily. On Wednesday night I went out with Abram and Carlos, and then met up with two other girls from our program, Caitlin and Autumn. They were also out with their friend Carla, and Autumn's brother, Hunter, who was here visiting from his spring break in the states. We all went out to the Music Bar, one of our favorite spots, then tried out a new bar called Migas, which was also pretty cool. We had to move from Music Bar at 2:00 AM because they were closing, which is somewhat unusual for bars in Spain, but it was Wednesday so we didn't think much of it. We were only at Migas for about 45 minutes though because they started to close down and get everyone out before 3:00. Carlos decided to go home at that point, but the rest of us were all having fun and we wanted to show Hunter a good time, so we decided to try to go to another discoteca that was about a block away, since those typically close much later. What we had failed to remember was that this particular discoteca is only open on the weekends, meaning Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, so when we got there of course it was all closed down with no one to be seen. Not a big deal we thought, we had already had a fun night, and we were about to just go home when a group of spanish teenagers came up and struck up a conversation with us. After hearing about our plans they told us about another discoteca that was open that was not too far away and proceeded to give us directions. It sounded ok, so we started to walk in that direction. They then offered to show us where it was since they were all going that way anyway, so we said ok and on we went. We walked down Calle Mayor, past the Plaza de Cervantes, two of the main pedestrian areas of town, making conversation and generally having a good time on the walk there. After being diverted a couple of blocks we all stopped on a corner to regroup, and it was at this point that our evening changed a bit.
At this time it was about 3:15 AM, late by American standards but more or less normal for Spanish standards, but late enough for there to not be a lot of people out and about aside from our group. So as we were standing on the corner we asked them where this discoteca was that we were going to, to which they didn't have a very sure response. A minute or so after that one of the spanish guys goes ahead and tries to reach into Abram's back pocket to relieve him of his wallet. Abram may not have noticed, but I was standing right next to him and saw the whole action from start to unsuccessul finish and I asked the guy what the hell he was doing. He didn't say anything, and instead tried to do the same thing to Hunter, again unsuccessfully. Being a little creeped out by this, Hunter went to move his wallet from his back pocket to his front pocket, and as he was doing so one of the other guys, the ringleader of the group so to speak, tried to snatch it out of his hand. We were all pretty pissed at that point, and Abram called the guy a thief, which somehow he was totally surprised to hear.
We started walking away right then and basically told the guys that we were leaving and that they were going to just have to f*** off, which of course they didn't. Fortunately the girls started walking ahead of us, but I was toward the back of our group as we were walking away, and I was trying to talk to the spanish guys and get them to leave. It was then that one of them took his jacket off like he was going to fight me, and I wasn't having it so I kept walking. They were still talking to me though, and despite the fact that I was walking away one of them took a swing at me, which I didn't see coming. Fortunately although he hit me on the left side of my jaw he didn't really connect, so I was ok. Abram and the others stopped though and I caught up and started to call 112, one of the emergency numbers we had learned from our program, the first one I could think of. Unfortunately I didn't think at the time of which one that was. Turns out it is the general number that anyone can call from anywhere in Europe to get help with any sort of emergency, so I was having a hell of a time trying to frantically explain in Spanish to the lady on the other end of the line what was happening and that we needed police assistance, not realizing until the end of the conversation that she needed to know what city I was in. Greeeeat. A lot of good that did. By the time I was done talking to her the group of guys were trying to take both Autumn and Caitlin's purses, again unsuccessfully, and ended up smashing Caitlin's phone on the street (she picked up the pieces and put it back together later). By the time we made it to the Plaza de Cervantes the 'gang' had pretty much split up, but there were still three of the guys on the corner of the plaza, with Caitlin running after them to try and kick some ass by herself. I wasn't about to let that happen, so I ran to catch up with her, and said some other things to the spanish guys which I won't repeat here, but that got them to leave us alone.
Fortunately for us a local police car rolled by the corner about 20 seconds later, and I flagged him down and told him what was going on, pointing to the three guys that were walking away. He took off very quickly, and they started to run, but didn't make it far we found out a few minutes later. He had called backup too, and 3 police cars and one van ended up coming to the corner to assist us, telling us that they had apprehended 5 of the guys who attacked us. One of them was in the back of the van, and the 'ringleader' and the 'kid' (they were all 15-18 years old, this kid was definitely no older than 15). Needless to say, the looks on their faces were priceless. I think they thought that we were just 'stupid Americans' and that not only would we not be able to get any police to help us, but that we wouldn't know enough Spanish to be able to explain what had happened. Wrong! They got the privilege of spending the night in jail (and possibly longer, not sure about that), and having to go home to their parents to explain why they were rotten little idiots. We unfortunately also had to go to the police station to give statements, which ended up taking about 5 hours total. We left the station at 8:30 AM, and I didn't go to class at all since I hadn't slept a wink or eaten or drank anything since the whole crapfest went down. I figured a customized, signed police report was a better excused absence than a doctor's note anyway, especially one that said that I had gotten hit in the face. I went home and slept for a couple hours, but had to get up to leave for Portugal by noon. Whew! What a way to start a weekend!
Well, as badly as that sucked, Portugal totally made up for it. No offense to Spain, and I realized I only spent 4 days in the Lisbon area, but I liked nearly everything about it better than Spain. For example, the weather was absolutely perfect the whole time, not too cold but not scorchingly hot either, perfect beach temperature. The people were also incredibly kind and accomodating, and many of them spoke English, which helped a lot because they really don't like to speak Spanish. We of course learned enough Portuguese to get by and be polite, but it was a relief that we were still able to communicate everywhere without much trouble. Another great thing about Portugal, they are nice about walking down the sidewalks too, which is a lot different than in Spain. Here you really have to pay attention in order to not get ran into/run over someone on the sidewalk, and even when you are paying attention they like to meander to and fro across the sidewalk in disregard of anyone around them, sometimes to the point where you start to wonder if they are really just trying to run into you on purpose. They also stop mid-sidewalk or walk 4 or 5 wide, often times very slowly, making it difficult to get by. Not so in Portugal. And to top that, the handful of times we did almost get run into by people walking 3-wide and not moving, it turned out they were Spanish. Ay! Madre mia! 
What else... our hostel was friggin' incredible, totally clean and modernly designed, with a friendly staff, great location, and free breakfast everyday, for only 18 euros a night! I really couldn't believe our incredible luck! Aside from this, the nightlife was good, the architecture and the castle we saw were beautiful, and Portugal has hands-down the most amazing statues and sculpture I have ever seen in my life. Period. These folks really know how to do the stonework, to an extreme degree. Also, the language itself is beautiful and a joy to listen to, making me wish I had at least learned a little before going there. The beaches were also beautiful, and the bike-ride we took along the coastline was easily the most scenic bike-ride I have ever taken. Also, attempted robbery experience here aside, I generally felt a lot safer walking around there, during the day and the nighttime, and the typical anti-American malice we have all gotten accustomed to was virtually nonexistent. I could go on and on about this amazing and beautiful country, but will sum it up by saying that I loved it and can't wait to go back. It totally shattered all of my expectations and preconceived notions of what it would be like, and in the best way. And in case I didn't make myself clear, I love Portugal!
So tomorrow I go back to school, hopefully without getting too much flack from teachers and staff about going out too late and being careful and all that, but we'll see. The great thing about this week is that it's only a 3-day week for us, because this week is 'fiesta' in Spain, so we have Thursday off. This means that on Wednesday we leave for Valencia to go see Las Fallas celebration, which comes to a final, fiery end on Thursday night. I am incredibly excited about this trip because it means there will be more beach time for us, and Las Fallas is one of the top reasons I wanted to come to Spain in the first place. Then it's off to a bullfight this weekend back in Madrid, for freeeee! I'm pretty, how you say, excite! I like! Is nice! So... I may not update until after next weekend, so 'til then, ciao!P.S. - yes, this says exactly what you think it says... enjoy!
No comments:
Post a Comment