Hurricane Madrid

We are sitting in our hotel in St. Jean Pied-de-Port France, trying to stay cool and looking up at the mountains we'll have to cross tomorrow.  It's been a whirlwind of a (almost) week since we arrived in Madrid, and while none of us have been sleeping enough, I think we're all looking forward to the next phase of our adventure tomorrow.

We arrived in Madrid without incident, bags intact, and had a relatively easy transfer to the hotel.  One of my interns and friends, Colten Corey, is studying in London this summer, and he flew down for the weekeng, which was an awesome bonus.  The bus driver was incredibly apologetic that there was so much traffic - the Metro and train unions are striking, causing a 70% reduction in service.  They want more vacation days; 18 a year plus holidays is not enough, apparently.  At least they are nice enough to tell you how much of a reduction in service to expect on any given day, and of course they do not strike on the weekends, because then people would just be mad at them.

Our hotel was on the Plaza de Espana, an area I know well, so it was nice to be in the old neighborhood.  After impressing upon the students that it was imperative that they NOT sleep until after dinner, I ran out with Ty and Colten and Sebastian to get our cellphones set up and loaded.   I had been surprised at how cool it was in Madrid when we landed (about 70 degrees) and when we stepped out on the street - a thunderstorm.  Now, I own about eight umbrellas.  All of them are in California.  So, we got a little wet, and when we arrived at the phone place, they indicated they needed my passport, which was of course back in the hotel.  So, we got wet again, but eventually got the phones squared away,

Then, in order to keep the students moving and awake, I took them on a brief orientation/walking tour of Madrid, and then we had dinner at a restaurant across the street from the Plaza Mayor.  It was a nice first day. 

The next day was a "free day."  The students were scheduled to work on their itineraries, which are excursions around Madrid that I assign to them that are either history-based, culture-based, or nature-based.  My boss and friend, Paul Lasiter, was scheduled to arrive from the States at 9am, so I headed to the train station to meet him - and ran directly afoul of the aforementioned train strike.  Fortunately, the airport train was only delayed 8 minutes, so I arrived at the airport in plenty of time to collect Paul.  We then returned to the hotel, got Paul settled in, and then went to lunch at one of my favorite places to eat - Casa Mingo.  Here's the best way I know to describe Casa Mingo: think Costco rotisserie chicken, but the chicken is marinated in hard apple cider, and served with more cider.  It's a great and reasonable meal.  After lunch, Ty went back to his museum-ing, Colten did some studying, and I again played tour guide for Paul.  

That evening we went to a flamenco show, which everyone seemed to enjoy.  I myself am not a huge fan of flamenco, but it is impressive to watch.  I also like watching all the middle-aged women get hot and bothered when Tall, Dark, and Handsome Male Flamenco Dancer in Tight Pants gets up to do his thing.  Cellphone cameras everywhere!

Saturday found us on the bus at 9am headed to Toledo for a guided tour.  This is where having a recollection of something can sometimes create issues for you.  For years, and I mean years, groups always meet their guides at the Puerta de Bisagra, one of the old medieval gates to the city.  We arrived at Bisagra, and no guide.  So we drive around a bit and even the driver is confused.  We get out and walk around looking for the guide, as my notes said to meet him at the mechanical stairs (escalators).

Now, I know what you're thinking: "They have escalators in Toledo?"  Yep.  I'm kind of amazed too.  Here's the deal.  Toledo, which is a town of 90,000 people, and which has a population in the walled old city of 6,000 now has to handle 4.5 million tourists a year.  That's a lot.  All those buses trundling around the tiny streets of the old city is problematic, but like most cities in Spain, Toledo is built on a giant hill, so making tourists climb up and down into the city is equally problematic.  The solution?  Giant banks of escalators that conveniently take you up and down into and out of the city.  I'm a bit horrified by this, but this is "progress."  

Aaanyway, no guide at the escalator.  So I call the company and they get in touch with the guide, who calls and assures me he's at the escalators.  The OTHER escalators, that are new.  The escalators I didn't know about.  Problem solved.  He was a great guide, the students enjoyed Toledo, and we happened upon a random crowd in the square outside the cathedral, with full on microphones and yelling and clapping.  I distinctly thought "oh great, another strike or protest, or something annoying socialist."  Nope.  Just the Official Guiness Book of World's Records Largest Plate of Ham in the square.  No big deal.

Spain is famous for it's cured ham, which depending on the type of pig and how it's cured, can take up to 8 years to produce, and can cost up to $200 a pound.  But boy, does it melt in your mouth.

We survived the ham-fest and returned to Madrid.  For dinner I took Ty, Paul, and Colten to my favorite steak restaurant in Madrid, Casa Julian de Tolosa.  It was an amazing meal.

And ironically, Sunday found us on a bus to a bull ranch north of Madrid.  The students saw how the bulls are raised and had a bullfighting lesson from a real, live (semi-retired) bullfighter, and then lunch.  That evening we went to a bullfight, and I must say, it was a hard one.  The fighters were not good, and were trying to show off, and so accordingly, two of them ended up in the hospital, and dry-cleaners of bullfighting suits in Madrid will probably stay employed for quite a long time yet, I think.

Yesterday was supposed to be another free/catch-up day with an optional trip to Segovia in the morning, but as it turns out, all of the students wanted to see Segovia, so I arranged for a bus to take us, and I did the tour.  The Roman Aqueduct still impresses me after all these years.  Segovia is one of my favorite places, and I think the students would agree.  Yesterday afternoon we met Javi for lunch, which turned into a 5 hour lunch, then we had to turn right back around and have our final closing group dinner for Madrid.

We were up early this morning, and on the train to Pamplona, then a hike and a bus and here we are!

It is inordinately hot, and the high tomorrow is about 95, so we are going to roll out extra early - at 5:30 to try and beat most of the heat.  I think the kids are excited and a bit nervous, which is expected.

Speaking of the kids.  This is an awesome group.  We're still in the honeymoon phase, but I am impressed with how optimistic, respectful and excited they are, and how well they seem to be bonding with each other, and yes, even us old folks.  We'll see if that holds.

As usual, I always have something in France be unnecessarily difficult.  This time it was the hotel.  It was closed when we showed up.  Uh...now what?  It turns out that the owner usually takes Tuesday afternoons off, but showed up shortly thereafter to let us in and give us our rooms.  Stuff like that really bothers me, just like the tour guide mess-up in Toledo.  Paul and I also had a little incident in Madrid where we stopped in for a cup of coffee, and paid the bill (4 Euro) with a 50 Euro bill, but the bartender only returned 16 Euros of change saying we had only paid with a twenty.  Obviously we disagreed vociferously, but courteously and professionally, and even though it took two managers counting the register twice, showing our ATM receipt and wallets, and me trying not to blow an O-ring in a foreign language, they gave us our change.  We think that the bartender slipped the bill into their apron, and we also think maybe the manager knew something was up because he ultimately told them to give us our change and apologized.

I REALLY hate stuff like that.  I think it's because I love Spain and want everyone to have a good experience, and hate that it was one of Paul's first impressions of a place I've grown to love.  At some level, I suppose I recognize that people are individuals, and one misunderstanding doesn't speak for an entire country.  Except in France, of course.

At any rate, all is well, and we are here, and looking forward to being on the road.  I'm anxious to see how everyone does tomorrow and how they feel about it.  Group meeting at 7:30 tonight, then hopefully off to an early bed!