Madrid: Sophistication and Surprise

I only spent two full days in Madrid, but found myself really liking it. It is a much smaller city than Barcelona, and there are fewer touristy activities, but it felt much more like a Spanish city to me. There was no need to take the subway anywhere I went because everything was within walking distance. The food was significantly cheaper. The streets were mainly for pedestrians and not for cars. The streets were cobblestone and not blacktop concrete. The vibe was welcoming and I liked that.

Even though I only had two days to spend in the Spanish capital, I intended on taking a nap when I arrived at Cat's Hostel. I had not slept much at all the night before, and was exhausted by the time I made the trek from the airport to the hostel with my luggage in tow. As it turned out, I never I took that nap.

When I walked into my room, I was greeted by a cute, friendly girl named Kristen Kelby Blakeley. Kelby, who goes by her middle name, is a 22 year old exchange student currently studying in Leeds, England. She was visiting Madrid on her Spring Break. After talking for a few minutes, she invited me to accompany her to the Prado Museum. Sleep-deprived and physically-drained, I, of course...said yes. Little did I know that Kelby and I would spend virtually every second of the next week by each other's sides.

**QUICK SIDE NOTE** Madrid is known for cultural-richness. It has some of the most impressive museums and galleries in all of Europe. If you remember back to an earlier edition of The Blog, you will remember I know roughly nothing about art and art appreciation.

Anyway, back to real time. As we walk to the Prado Museum, I learn that Kelby is an Art History major. YES!! Nice job, Ari. I informed her she was to assume the role of Ari's Personal Tour Guide, to which she accepted. I'll spare you the details, but just know that I learned more in those two hours at the Prado than I had at all prior museum visits combined.

After having tapas at a local restaurant, we parted ways for a few hours. Remember when I mentioned that we would spend "virtually every second of the next week" together, well, it so just so happened my Internet Cafe stay was the entirety of our time apart.

This wasn't your normal internet cafe visit. This was for my annual Fantasy Baseball Keeper League Draft. Say what you will, I take few things more seriously than I do fantasy baseball. Europe or no Europe, I was not missing this draft. In case you were interested, the Braves I drafted were Brian McCann, Kelly Johnson and Yunel Escobar. I'll keep you posted as to the status of my team.

Feeling good about my team, I decided to treat myself to a hearty portion of Paella. As it turned out, it wasn't much of an indulgence. After having been at the mercy of hefty Barcelona prices for a week, I was ecstatic to learn that my mountain of seasoned rice and seafood cost 5.50 euro. The portion was so large, I couldn't even finish it. Okay, that was a lie.

Still having not yet slept, I internally debated whether I was to go out that night. There was a pub crawl departing from our hostel, and I could tell Kelby wanted me to go. I knew I would regret not going, so I rallied and went. We were with a group of about 40 people, but neither of us really talked to anyone else.

The next day, Kelby and I went to lunch at the same place from which I ordered the aforementioned mountain of Paella. Taking a page out of my playbook, she ordered said mountain, but I decdied to order a house specialty that involved ham, cheese, bread and sauce.

Even Kelby admitted I had out-ordered her.

I could tell there was something special about this girl when she used the term "out-ordered" without provocation. I mean, I use the term all the time. So does my family. And my friends. But we're screwed up people. Girls just don't tend to think in that way. This girl cared about food. She was okay by me.

From lunch, we walked to the Reina Sofia Museum, where Tour Guide Kelby informed me of more fun facts. I really enjoyed their Salvador Dali collection, but was disappointed that they didn't have his "Persistence of Memory". Also, the museum had a temporary Picasso exhibit, which was a nice complement to the Picasso work I had seen in Barcelona. While walking through the museum's many rooms, the two of us began to engage in a lengthy conversation over the legitimacy of "good" art. I maintained that art is so subjective, and that works by Picasso, or Van Gogh or Rembrandt or whomever else are famous because they were painted by a famous artist, not because the individual work stands above all else. My argument was only bolstered, when we happened upon the works of Jean Miro. Why is this in a museum? I think I made something like this when I was in second grade. No, wait. I stayed in the lines.




After the museum, we made it a point to find Ricci, a gelateria highly recommended by Let's Go.

Best. Gelato. Ever.

No joke.

I ordered a scoop of chocolate and one of some blueberry-raspberry medley-deliciousness, while Kelby ordered something a commoner would order.

Ari 2, Kelby 0.

Once we finished our euphoric treats, we made our way to Parque del Buen Retiro, a really pretty park behind the Prado Museum. We sat on a bench up against the water for about an hour, as Kelby and I talked and people-watched. As the sun was setting, and the day winding down, she asked me to go with her to Paris. After realizing she was being sincere and not simply offering a courteous invite, I told her I would mull it over.

I was having a good time with her, and thought a jaunt to Paris would be exciting, but even beyond that I had been looking to get out of my trip to Switzerland for some time. I'm not sure if you are aware, but the dollar is not doing very well right now, and money is an issue for little Ari. The only reason I wanted to go to Switzerland was to visit Interlaken, the tiny, yet apparently gorgeous extreme-sport trap located in the Alps. My plan was to land in Geneva, train to Interlaken, sky-dive, spend a night or two in Interlaken and then take a train out of the country. The more I thought about it though, the more I realized my plan was just not economically wise. Even though I was only going to be in the country for two nights, I figured the visit would cost roughly $1000, more than half of which would come from my airplane leap. I had been planning to visit Interlaken for a while, and it was going to be my one big splurge (or at least planned splurge) of my trip, but it just didn't make sense to commit to such an expense when I didn't know if I would NEED that money sometime down the road. Ideally, the good people at Wells Fargo National Bank will permit me to sky-dive in a few months, but it just didn't make sense to do it just yet. I had explored other travel options after having booked my flight to Geneva, but my searches had always come up dry. This was largely due to the fact that I had been planning to save my visit to France for May, when I was to meet my good friend Big Bri in Paris. Once Kelby invited me, I realized I might be enjoying baguettes sooner than I had imagined. Even still, I wasn't sure. I told her I would look into it.

Apparently the lack of sleep caught up to me. After getting a haircut, I came back to the hostel and passed out at roughly 9pm. The next thing I knew, it was 6:15 the next morning, and having realized I was still scheduled to be on 9:10am flight to Geneva, I raced out of bed, pleaded with the hostel staff to let me use the internet afterhours and checked out EasyJet's availability that day from Madrid to Paris. After a couple minutes of searching and one big sigh that screamed, "Well, here goes nothing", I was booked on the same flight as a girl I had met less than 48 hours earlier.