La Primera Dia: Madrid

!Hola y Bienvenidos a Madrid!

Fairytales always start with once upon a time, and an beginning such as this seems almost fitting for this first chapter in the book like blog I am beginning to replicate. So once upon a time there was a girl from Wickliffe with dreams of seeing the world and everything it had to offer. So as a sophomore in college she decided to study abroad and took the first step towards her future. After countless hours sitting in the airport and numerous flights in which she met and spoke with numerous peolpe from all walks of life, she arrived in the London airport. The flight over had been like non she´d ever experienced, a small meal, blankets,pillows, alcohol provided, and even a toothbrush. British airways was definately no American Airlines as the steward had joked. And the proof was in the service. Stepping off the plane in London was only the beginning as this is not where she would stay. But turning to look around this Wickliffe native had to ask herself, "Am I dreaming?" But this was no dream as she´d soon find out...

Absolutely amazing, or bloody amazing as the British girl sitting behind me on the plane put it. As we arrived at the newly built terminal in Madrid that dream like feeling was still creeping around. Even now it´s still hard to believe that after all the talk, all the work, it´s finally happened. I´ve finally made it. I didn´t chicken out or back out, I never once got scared, and I never once thought that I´d never make it here. But no amount of book or advice could´ve prepared me for the overwhelming relief and joy I felt when I stepped off the plane in Madrid. The first thought that came to my head then was "FINALLY!!" After having met two other people on the plane headed the same way with me I had acquired what I fondly refer to as travel buddies. A New Zelander with an English accent, and another student who, like me, had opted for a group flight but not a group tour but never received information stating the group flight was for the tourists.

As soon as my feet touched the ground outside the airport my Spanish was put to the test as we three hailed a cab to take us to our hostel. Seriously jet lagged and worn down I spoke as best as I could telling the driver where to and then we were off. As far as I know a hostel is a hostel. They all offer the same basic needs for a much cheeper price as they are geared toward the backpacker and or the traveling student: a place to sleep, a locker to lock stuff up, storage for all your crap, security, showers, and sometimes internet. You can get picky with its location or u can just buck it up and learn how to use the metro. Thankfully and possibly luckily, practically everything in Madrid here is within walking distance, and getting there is easy. Getting back to the hostel on the other hand, not so much. It seems everytime I ask people "¿Donde está calle de cabeza?" very few seem to know the answer. And let me just say, Dorothy we´re definately not in Kansas anymore!! These streets are crazy. Travelers tip number one: American instnicts can pretty much be thrown out the window! It just ain´t the same and using them will only wind you more lost then when you started. I´ll have to get a picture when it´s light out so that you can see for yourself what I mean. In the meantime think of it like this, first they drive on the left, scooters ride both street and sidewalks, there don´t appear to be speed limits, the little green guy means you can walk, the little red guy means watch your ass, and just cause it´s one street name on one side doesn´t mean its the same street running all the way through (left is one right is another).

Time was of the essence and having arrived during Siesta (nap time) we decided to take advantage and as the saying goes "When in Rome..." well we did what the Spaniards do... napped!! Then it was up for a late night dinner, but don´t go getting the wrong idea. Dinner is more like a snack while watching a good game on the big screen in the little locals pub. Tapas is the usual treat shared between friends. And again we became locals speaking nothing but Spanish and ordering tapas. Spanish omlette was the english translation of my dinner. Part of me wishes I would´ve grabbed a picture of it. It was delicious. Eggs, little bit of a cheese, some potatoes and onion scrambled and made into a triangular omlette shape and put on of a piece of toasted bread (don´t ask what kind, couldn´t tell you). The food was good, the drinks good, and the futbol game on the television along with cheering aside one of the locals made the night. Meals as well as just about everything else in Madrid are so relaxed and laid back. It´s such a slow and easy going culture, it´s hard not to love it. But here is where travelers tip number two comes in: water in cafés and other restaurants is expensive, buy bottles from a local supermarket. MUCH cheaper.

The rest of the night was spent in dream land as day one came to a warm close. Like the wind, plans are ever changing so who knows what the next day will bring...

(Pictures to come, estimating Sunday or Monday at the latest)