A Madrid Update.

This week I've been pretty busy with school. Since I'm in class pretty much from 11-8 Mondays and 9-8 on Wednesdays, nothing too exciting ever transpires.

On Tuesday, I did go to the Sorolla Museum, which is probably one of my favorites that I have visited here in Madrid and anywhere for that matter. (In retrospect, this weeks seems to have been my museum week in Madrid.) It is entirely unique from any museum that I have been to in that the museum is the artist's house and by house I mean palacio. When Sorolla died, he wanted his house preserved and he did not want anything changed. As a result, all of the furniture, paintings, light fixtures, letters, and other nicknacks are the same as they were 100 years ago. I thought it was particularly interesting that President Taft of the United States had somehow befriended Sorolla. I had seen the photo and letter (written in an indecipherable scrawl that appeared to be a latin-derived language) on a table in the foyer of the house and I thought that the man in the photo was a president from the US. I wanted to say that it was Roosevelt - the mustache. So I asked on of the room attendants, and he said Taft. I was a little astounded and still am for that matter, and thus have tucked this piece of information away for future research whether it be for a thesis or a book I do not know. 

On Thursday, I returned to El Escorial to reach the top of Mount Abantos. It was was incredible, my friend and I found wild berries and had great views of Madrid on the horizon. We got back to Madrid around 3, which left me plenty of time to explore a little more before the evening's festivities. I went to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum of Art. There I discovered another interested piece of artwork - a portrait of George Washington's cook. It is of particular interest because having a portrait made of a black cook in 1776(?) would have been counter to the social norms of slavery and racism. 

That night in Madrid, my friends and I did our first serious tapas crawl of Madrid. In the first bar, I had a beer and four tapas. This bar was more or less a self-serve tapas bar. We were seated outside, but we had to go into the bar and choose the tapas that we wanted. I chose blood sausage, chorizo, bleu cheese and proscuito, and a chile relleno. All of the tapas were served on top of a slice of bread, like an open-face sandwich. After drinking our drinks and eating our food we headed up one of the more famous streets in Madrid for tapas. (There is a bar somewhere on this street that Hemingway favored.) We ended up choosing the Meson de Champiñon. Or Inn/Bar of the Mushroom. Contrary to the name nothing narcotic nor hallucinatory was served. You've got to go to Amsterdam for that. Anyway, the atmosphere was great; think old wine cellar, cave, dungeon. It was moderately touristy, but still completely authentic in its fare. We were seated at a table that looked like it was made for two very little little-people, but somehow we managed, wedged between the relatively large Spaniard playing the keyboard and the two Japanese lovers at at a similarly sized table. We ordered a jarilla de sangria and pimientos de pedrón and champiñones. It was all incredible and relatively cheap. The peppers appeared exactly like jalapeños, but they were not hot at all. Not fried, just heavily salted and baked in the oven proved to be the secret to this simple recipe. The stuffed mushrooms were equally good, stuffed with a little chorizo. To end the evening, we went to San Ginés, the best place to eat a chocolates con churros.

The next day, two of my friends and I went to Cuenca, another UNESCO world heritage site that is about 3 hours away from Madrid. Cuenca is famous for its museums and what are known as las casas colgadas or the hanging houses. The old part of the town was build on top of a hill and many of the houses are right on edge of the cliffs of this hilltop. The balconies of many of the houses jut out over the valley below.

Elvira's food update:

Sopa Castellana or Sopa de Ajos

I've found a recipe online that seems to be about the same as what Elvira cooked me. Type in sopa catellana in google. It should be the first hit. It is a mix between egg drop soup and matzo ball soup. There is a great deal of garlic, bread/dumplings, and a partially boiled egg in the center of the bowl. It's incredibly delicious and I recommend that you try this recipe.

The Metro - A Captive Audience

In the last week, I've come across a relatively interesting phenomenon in the Metro - beggars. My friend, Travis, encountered them a few weeks back, but I figured it didn't happen too often in the metro. 

It all happens relatively quickly. You think you are in a normal car with normal people. And then when the doors shut and the metro starts to move ahead. An unshaven, odorous bum says, "Permiso, señores y señoras. Necesito preguntarles por algo. Estoy un hombre sin techo y tengo dos hijos y no tengo pensión. Por favor, ayudame." The bum or hombre sin techo  proceeds to shuffle up and down the car of the metro moaning or pleading for money. It doesn't seem to be too lucrative as nearly every person, myself included, simply turns there back when he passes by.

Francia, not Franzia

After the escargot, I did a little exploring before my friends arrived. I tried to find a museum with a van Gogh exposition, but instead found the old fort and another cathedral. From here, I took the metro to the Unite d'Habitación, one of the more famous works by modern French architect Le Corbusier. It was great to be able to see this building, because I've actually learned about it in my modern architecture class at Davidson. Le Corbusier was big into urban planning and the idea of a self-sustaining 'town' within a complex of buildings. The Unite d'Habitación was built with this in mind as it has apartments, office buildings, restaurants, pool, tennis court, gardens, gymnasium, hotel, and art studios. To put it simply - everything. I had actually tried getting a room in the hotel there, but it was all booked. (For around 50 euros you can get a nice one room studio with the original furniture be Le Corbu. Something to think about if you are ever in Marseille.)

So, I explored the grounds a bit and then went into the building itself. Although the building exists as it did from the beginning, it now remains more as a vestige of a better time than anything else. I made my way up to the rooftop terrace, where there is a gym, pool, artist studio, and I believe a Kung Fu class, and was taken away by the great views of all of Marseille. The terrace itself was kind of like a mausoleum still looking more or less untouched by the stresses of time and history.

When my friends arrived, we went to the vieux port for to walk around and have dinner. Like most students - abroad or in the US, we chose what seemed most affordable. It was a nice café overlooking the port. But upon having been seated, the problems quickly arose. Since neither my friends nor I speak French, the language barrier was something to be reckoned with.
The menu was the first issue. What to choose? I cannot understand any of this. Okay. I'll compare the words to words in Spanish. This doesn't work. English. No luck. At last, Calamars. Calamari, right? Okay, good. I say, "Quiero Calamar." And point at the item in the menu. Good, the waitress is writing something down. My friends did the same with their items. Everything seemed to be just fine.

And then came time to eat. I received the calamars, but my friends did not receive their plates. I waited a little, ate a little and waited some more. Finally, I waved over a waiter and pointed at my friends and said, 'ensalada.' He nodded, which we all took as some sort of recognition at the issue at hand. So, we continued to wait and still nothing came. After another 5 minutes or so, it appeared that the waiter was returning to tell us something, but at the last minute he went to the table right next to us. It was at this point that my friend Katia sort of interjected herself at the table next door and tried as best as she could to tell the waiter that she was still waiting for her salad. At this point, the entire table next to us was fully immersed in trying to help us out. They were French, so they could at least speak to the waiter and get things smoothed out. Well, it appeared at first that our neighbors thought that my friend was trying to give them a recommendation for a salad rather than asking them for help in obtaining the salads for our table. This was only a minor detail as one of the women at the table spoke a broken down version of Spanish. Salvation at last! With their help, they told the waiter that we still needed the salads. But still the salads did not come. We saw numerous salads go to other tables and it was not for another 10 minutes or so that we received the food. It was great though. The people at the adjacent table were incredibly friendly and spoke to us a little. (The stereotype that the French are unfriendly is more or less wrong. I would say from my experience in Marseille, that the only rude people in France are the people working in the Tourism Offices.) When we did get the food, the managed to bring me another calamar. It was bizarre, but I welcomed the squids that had been fried to a golden-brown perfection. We did receive free coffee to go with our profiterol, so it wasn't all bad.

The next day, we woke up at 6 to catch a train to Nimes (pronounced neema) to see the Roman arena and temple. Nime was a great typically Provencial town. What was even more interesting was the influence of the Spanish culture. We arrived around 8 and there was going to be a bullfight at 11 in the Roman arena. So all of the decorations, vendors, and restaurants were peddling things like tapas, paella, Spanish-styled french souvenirs. It was in this city that my Spanish was fairly useful, more so than English.

We managed to make some more friends at the bus station. I had researched the bus schedule before hand online and there was supposed to be a bus to Nime at 11 on line 168, but when we looked at the schedule for the day line 168 did not exist. And the bus office was closed. So we searched and searched and eventually ran into a Korean or Japanese tourist that we had taken a photo of earlier. It was to our advantage that he happened to be living in France and also going to Pont du Gard. It was to our disadvantage they he did not know which bus line went going to Pont du Gard. In the process of walking up and down the bus queue, we picked up another 'friend,' a businessman from Japan. Eventually we found a bus that left at 11 with the help from a French couple.

From Nimes, we took the bus to Pont du Gard, which is probably the world's best-preserved Roman Aquaduct. We went on a hike around the aqueduct and then had lunch by the river. I had bought my sandwich and dessert at a patisserie. The sandwich was incredible. Poppyseed baguette, dried ham, tomato, onion, some French cheese, and then an olive spread. The dessert was even better. It was called a macaroon, which was like a brownie but infinitely better. Words cannot describe. Check out the website: www.paul.fr

From Nimes, we went to Avignon. If you're ever in Provence, you have to go here. A city steeped in history, it is where the Popes were exiled for a century or two. The old walls that surrounded the town still stand and still divide the history, idyllic, picturesque town from the newer construction.

We made it back to Marseille at 7 o'clock with just enough time to run over to the port and take the boat over to Ile Friol and Chateau D'If. We had dinner (curry mussels and a grand marnier crepe) there and then returned to the mainland at 10.

Waking up again early this morning, I tried to ask the man at the front desk if we needed to checkout or do anything. Of course, he didn't understand me, so I wrote Marseille down on a piece of paper and then drew and arrow down to the words Madrid. Still he didn't understand, so I just gave him the key and off we went to out final destination, the Palais du Longchamp - an incredible garden and waterworks complex.

All in all, it was amazing. I didn't get to do everything I wanted to, but that's always the way it is.

Speaking Spanish in France

After a three hour delay, my friends are finally in France conmigo. The weather today has been great - sun. Yesterday, the weather was pretty awful, mostly rain and glum. This is the Marseille that I wanted. So I woke up relatively early today, and headed off to the waterfront to grab a quick bite to eat before my three hour tour. The language barrier has been difficult. I will say that I have perfected the 'merci' and the 'bon jour', but that is pretty much the extent of my francophone abilities. At breakfast, I tried asking for a menu, which I'm pretty sure is French, to no avail. I ended up with a delicious chocolate croissant, a café, and two glasses of fresh squeezed orange juice. The first glass was so great, and so much like that of Florida, I had to order a second. (The oranges were probably imported from Florida or Spain.) 

The tour of Les Calanques was incredible. It was definitely worth the time and money. It was a needed escape from the sprawling metropolis of Marseille.

For lunch, I found another establishment that accepted American Express. I was in search of a nice café that served escargot. The snails of course were unlike any had previously. They were still in their shells and the sauce was less garlic and more like pesto.

This will have to be continued tomorrow, as I need to sleep a little before my train tomorrow.

Weekend Trip

That's right. I'm in Marseille, France. Travel in Europe is amazing in that there are so many discount airlines. I bought my ticket to Marseille for somewhere around 50 euros. (I think the airlines receive government subsidies.) 

After having shelled out nearly as much money on my taxi from the airport to my hotel, I spent the afternoon exploring the vieaux port and getting everything figured for the rest of the weekend. Tomorrow, I'm going to take a three hour tour (a three hour tour) of the Provençial coastline known as the Calanques. The Calanques are lime stone cliffs, much like fjords, that jut into the crystalline Mediterranean. 

When I return around noon, I'll be going  to Chateau d'If. Have you read or seen The Count of Monte Cristo? With other afternoon excursions including a van Gogh exhibit, a French chateau, and cathedral overlooking the town.

Saturday, my friends and I will be going to Avignon and to the Pont du Gard Roman aqueduct.  

The Past Few Days

Have been crazy.

Saturday, I went to a little pueblo about half an hour from Madrid - Alcalá. It is great little village with a number of UNESCO world heritage sites. The University founded in the 1400's is one of the oldest universities in the world. The Spaniards liken it to Oxford and Cambridge. 

The house that Cervantes was born in is also in this pueblo. We took a tour of the house - very interesting. (The Cervantes Beca -the Hispanic Literature equivalent to the Nobel Peace Prize in Literature - is awarded annually by the king in the antechamber of the University.)

Saturday night was El Noche en Blanco, a festival when museums, street exhibitions, theaters, and musical venues stay open all night. It was great. All of the major streets in Madrid were closed and were filled with throngs of Madrileños as well as tourists. Hundreds of thousands of people must of been there if not millions.

On the home front, things have been a little turbulent. Although my Spanish has greatly improved in the last few weeks, I'm still having difficulty catching every word when the language is spoken so fast. Sometime this past week, I thought that Elvira had told me that her sobrino or nephew would be coming to live with us since he attends the university in Madrid. I thought she said that he would be here the next day. And then the day came and went and he did not show up. Another few days came and went and still he had not arrived. And then after I had returned from Alcalá, Elvira told me that I needed to be quiet because her sick friend was sleeping in the guest room. I was a little confused. To say the least, I wasn't entirely sure what she had said. I had thought that earlier in the week she had mentioned something about her nephew, but now her sick, ailing, dying? friend was living in the apartment instead. And then I had lunch, and the nephew showed up. I'm beginning to think that the nephew had been in the house for a few days prior to my meeting him. I think we both just had different schedules and never had the chance to meet. 

A food update: I've never eaten so much food in my life. There is lunch with piles of food and then there is dinner - in Spain it is supposed to be smaller - that is just as big as lunch.

Here are a number of dining scenarios that will likely hold true for the rest of the semester:

1) Fried Food. This plate consists of fried eggplant, fried fish or chicken, fried empanadas, and patatas fritas. Oh, and there's the baguette.

2) Fish. Prior to Spain, I did not eat fish. Why? I cannot say. I have fish about once a day. Therefore, I've come to like it - for the most part. I'm not a huge fan of canned tuna, but maybe that too will change by the end of the semester.

3)Pasta. Elvira also likes to prepare lasagna and pastas. The massive heaping of lasagna could have easily fed 10 starving children in Africa.

Today, lunch was a feast. It was the first time that the Ailing-Sick-Dying-Woman, the Nephew, Elvira, and I all had lunch together. There were mussels that were prepared kind of like oysters in the States. They were cooked and on each shell there was a cilantro, tomato, onion salsa. (Think more along the lines of a bruschetta topping than salsa.) There were Spanish style scalloped potatoes that involved tomatoes, onions, and I believe vinegar. Then there was the fish, which surprisingly was not fried, two tomato slices, and a stalk of giant white asparagus. All in all, it was fairly impressive.

I need to make an addendum to an additional post. The day that I was walking all of the town, I stumbled upon what had been some sort of brawl. All sorts of people were standing in the streets watching the shouting and bloody loons. I didn't really realize what was happening until I got rather close to the scene of the crime. The people that had been walking in front of me had stopped and I did hear shouting, but I foolishly kept walking. It was not until I realized that a bleeding transgendered woman/man (picture the villain-mother from the Goonies with lots of blood) was walking down the sidewalk in my direction that I became aware of the 'threat.' Nothing happened, there were a few broken bottles and the two people in the fight continued to scream and shout from opposite sides of the road. I stood in the doorway of a building with a burka-ed Muslim woman until we both had a chance to scurry past the man/woman.

Going by too quickly

I'm already having difficulty remember which day was which. The semester seems to be going by so quickly. I've planned the majority of my trips for the semester and will be going to Marseilles next weekend and to Brussels-Cologne-Amsterdam for my long weekend in October.

Yesterday, I had class until 8, returned to 'home' for a quick meal and then headed out with my friends to the Sol. There we walked around, got some ice cream, and then eventually went to the bars. We found an interesting Cuban bar with a live band and some sort of Latin dancing. Ironically, the only beer served was Carlsberg - nothing Latin, nothing Spanish.

Today, I went to El Escorial, the summer residence of the Spanish monarchy. The vast complex of buildings now houses museums, a monastery, and a private elementary school. After our tour of the building, my friends and I did an hour or so hike up Monte Abastos. Being a little lost, I had to ask 4 or 5 people where was the trailhead. There were great views of the town and we could even see Madrid in the distance.

After having returned from El Escorial, I ate a quick dinner, read some Harry Potter (en español) and headed back out. Using the metro that is literally 1 minute from my apartment, I met up with my friends grabbed a coffee. Upon leaving the coffee shop, we ran into some other students from our program. I then decided to go to with them once again to do some bar hopping. 

Walking Everywhere

As I've already mentioned, I have four day weekends. What I failed to divulge was that on Tuesdays I only have an hour of class at the university and then an hour of class later on in El Prado. So, after class a few of my friends and I walked from the university, stopped by my apartment, and then ended up at the Parque Oeste or Park of the West. The Parque Oeste is particularly interesting because there is an Egyptian Temple. In the 70's, Spain helped the Egyptian government save something old and valuable from ruination. In return, the Egypt gave Spain this temple that is now in the park. 

From the temple, my friends and I saw what appeared to be an interesting church in the distance and decided to see what it was. It turns out it was the Palacio Real. After a quick walk through the Royal Gardens, we proceeded to an area known as the Sol or the center of the city. The Sol is Times Square of Madrid. There are always many people - including pickpockets. From there, my friends returned to their homes to have lunch, while I waited to meet up with one of my friends from Davidson, who is in Madrid through another program. Once I met up with Erica, we headed back to the Palace and had lunch at a cafe overlooking the the Palace and its gardens. I do need to note that my coke cost about as much as my meal. My coke was 3.70 Euros, roughly 5 USD. After lunch we made a quick stop at an heladería or ice cream shop and indulged in what Spaniards call ice cream, but what we would call gelato. Next, we made our way to El Prado.

Erica and I moseyed about the museum until I met up with my class. After class, instead of taking the metro, I walked back the way I had come. All in all, I've probably walked between 7 and 10 miles today. 

For dinner, Elvira cooked a canned fish dish. Supposedly, it was a variety tuna native to Spain. Up until this point, I've really been enjoying the fish here - mainly because it is fried. I've had lomo, trucha, and a number of other varieties indigenous to Spain and the Mediterranean. This fish, unfortunately was extremely fishy.

  

Life in Madrid

There are number of things that in my ramblings I have forgotten to mention.

The first is that the bathroom situation is a little questionable. Older apartments only have one bathroom. I live in an older apartment, therefore I am sharing the bathroom with my Señora (Elvira). So far it's been interesting. Particularly so, considering there happens to be a window in the bathroom door. Although it is more opaque than not, the window gives the occasional passerby quite a glimpse. I still find myself looking at the window, expecting to see Elvira standing there watching me.

On another note, today was my first real day to go and explore Madrid. I woke up relatively early and met a few friends at the Museo de la Reina Sofia. We saw Picasso's Guernica and The Woman in Blue. They were quite interesting. I believe we spent something like 3 hours in the museum and there are still to more floors yet to be explored. And the best news of all, I've finally found an oasis of souvenirs where I can use my American Express!

Spanish Tortilla Recipe

So, I've told Elvira that I would like to learn how to cook some traditional Spanish dishes.

My first lesson was the Spanish tortilla or omelette. 

Here is a list of the ingredients:

-Between 4 and 6 eggs depending on the size of the sauce pan.

-Enough potatoes to fill sauce pan.

-Onions for additional flavor.

-Lots of olive oil.

Here is the recipe:

-Slice the potatoes, as if you were to be making scalloped potatoes.

-Next, slice about half of an onion. The onion is really only added for additional flavor; the amount of onion in the tortilla is at your discretion.

-Next, pour a great deal of olive oil and a little salt into the sauce pan. You will want the olive oil to be about a centimeter in depth.

-Add the potatoes and the onions to the olive oil and put the sauce pan on a lower temperature heat.

-The potatoes and onions may need to cook for 15 minutes or more. You want the potatoes and onions to be completely cooked and soft. Not al dente, but not mushy.

-While this is cooking, crack the eggs into a bowl and beat them until the whites and the yolks have mixed. (You will want to use enough eggs so that they cover the potatoes.) Additional salt should be added at this time as well.

-After the potatoes and onions have cooked, put them in the bowl with the eggs and mix them a little. There should be excess olive oil in the sauce pan. Put some of it in a new sauce pan, and the rest can be discarded.

-Begin heating the new sauce pan with its layer of olive oil. Then pour the egg-onion-potato mixture into the sauce pan.

-You will was to let it cook on this side for a few minutes few before you flip the tortilla. The outside should be a nice brown-yellow. Once the first side of the tortilla has congealed, use a plate to flip the tortilla and then begin cooking the other side. You may need to do this a couple times to make sure the entire omelette is thoroughly cooked, but not burned.

-Once finished, let the tortilla cool for awhile and then it is ready to eat.

My apologies. Back to what I´ve been able to learn about Spain during my orientation.

Second, going to bars is extremely expensive. They have a saying here that the locals do not get drunk or emborachado. The reason for that the Spaniards do not get drunk seems fairly obvious. It costs too much to get drunk. I paid 5 euros for a drink at the local bar in Comillas, which I believe translates into more than 7 dollars US.

Third, America should not be the fattest nation in the world. I would say that every meal I´ve had here has had something fried in it. Potatoes, shrimp, meat, potatoes, potatoes, potatoes. The food is great, but everything is fried. If Americans walked as much as the Spanish, I´m almost positive that we - as a nation - would need to worry about our fat intake.

Fourth, tapas are probably the world´s greatest edible creation. Last night after arriving in Leon, a few of my friends decided that we wanted tapas for dinners. The concept behind tapas is great - you buy a cerveza or beer and with the beer you are given a small dish of food. Typically, each bar has its own tapas specialty. Since the selection of tapas is limited, a bar hopping of sorts ensues whereby at each bar you buy another cerveza and tapas. Last had papas fritas with chorizo and a mahou - the miller of Spanish beer - at the first bar. At the next, I had jamon con queso with an amstel. At the last bar, I had a chile relleno con more jamon y queso, a sanwich, and green peppers compliments of the house with another mahou. In total, I probably paid 7 euros. Tapas are definitely the most affordable and fun way to eat in Spain.

Fifth, when eating in Spain plan to do so two to three hours later than you would in the US. I usually eat breakfast around 9:30, lunch around 2, and dinner around 9 or 10.

Sixth, Spaniards do not smile in fotos. It was hilarious and interesting to watch the Spanish tourists at some of the sites in los Picos de Europa. Instead of smiling, they would just stare down the camera with what I would call eyes of resentment. It´s not necessarily a sentiment I would want to associate with my travels, but I guess it resounds with the Spanish particularly well.

Seventh, contrary to the popular belief that Europe is place of fashionistas, fascistas, and comunistas, there remain numerous place to enjoy the out of doors. On one of our excursions in the Montains, we went to a small pueblo renown for its trout fishing. On the first Sunday of September, there is a fishing tournament and a grand festival to celebrate the catch of the largest fish. After the fish is caught, all of the local restaurants bid on the fish to sell in their restuarant. The fish usually sells for more than 400 euros per kilo. Unfortunately, when I asked about the fishing, the lady at the centro de turismo to me that the fishing season had already ended the 31 of August. This week I´m going to investigate whether or not there are other areas in Spain where the fishing season is still open, because the trochas that I saw in the rio sillos were gigantic.

As an aside, today we had lunch in the nicest five star restuarant in Leon. The desert was incredible - like flan but made with chestnuts. Also, I have four days weekends and plan on traveling extensively in the coming weeks.

Orientation

My orientation in the North of Spain has been extremely helpful in immersing me in the Spanish way of life. (None of which pertain to my acquisition of Spanish.)

First, Spanish wine is very cheap. Very Very Cheap. Instead of going to dinner one night, a group of us decided to go to a deli in Comillas to buy some food and have a picnic of sorts on the beach. It was on this occasion that I noticed a rather large wine selection and it was upon this observation that I realized the 1.35€ bottle of red Spanish wine would compliment my 19.99€ per kilo manchego cheese. I suppose I figured the expensive cheese and the cheap wine would end up canceling each other out. I must note that the manchego was the best I´ve ever had. The round of manchego was covered with rosemary. I don´t think you´ll find something like that back in the states.

Well, my minutes are about to run out at the internet cafe. To be continued tomorrow.