Madrid

Hey All,

Yesterday was yet another holiday in France, honoring l’Ascension, the Feast of the Ascension. I had some time to explore the other parts of my town and have a few photos to put up later. For now, I’m going to resume where I last left off in the course of my spring break. It seemed slightly silly to take a flight for such a short time. Three quarters of an hour after takeoff we were touching down in Spain’s capital. We were back to the region where Spanish was the primary language and darkness had already fallen. The unfortunate thing about taking planes over trains is that no city (with the exception of Nice) builds their airport near the center of the city so we had to take several steps to get to our hostel. From the airport we took a subway train to the main rail station and from there a quick metro ride brought us to the closest stop to our hostel. To say that we picked our hostel in the city center is an understatement.

It was less than two blocks away from Puerto del Sol, considered the center of not only Madrid but one time of the whole Spanish empire. It was denoted as Kilometer Zero on Spanish maps since it was the hub from which the major Spanish roads spread out like the spokes of a wheel. The name Puerto del Sol or “Gate of the Sun” comes from the entrance gate to the plaza which was oriented facing east towards the rising sun. In the center of the plaza was a statue of El Oso y El Madroño, the bear and the berry tree which is the symbol of Madrid to this day.

As we walked out from below ground the city seemed to be at a lull, it was late enough for many people to be back in their homes but not yet late enough for the famous Madrid nightlife to start. We walked a short distance down one of the streets to the address listed on the email from our hostel. We arrived at the correct number, but found ourselves staring at a beaten up wooden door with peeling paint and graffiti. On the side was an intercom listing names of residents like one would find at an apartment building. Sure enough, scrawled in one of the name slots in pencil was the name of our hostel. Slightly apprehensive, we pushed the button, explained that we had a reservation, and we buzzed in. Climbing the steps, we found ourselves in the stairwell of a slightly run down apartment building. On each landing of the staircase was a printed notice from the hostel reminding guests in several languages to please be respectful of the neighbors and to keep quiet on the stairwell. Our hostel was located on the third floor of the building and much to our surprise was very nice and well maintained.

As we walked in we were greeted by a gentleman our age at the reception desk as well as several travelers lounging around the couches in the adjacent common area. Coincidently the guy who worked there was born and raised in Philadelphia, came to Spain on a trip and decided not to leave (there are actually a significant number of people in the hostel and tourism industry in European countries who do just this). We talked for a while and after saying that the most Spanish we spoke was remnants of high school classes, he advised us that Madrid, when compared to other European countries, had a very low percentage of people who could speak English. We were a bit surprised, but undeterred. He showed us to our room, a ten bunk bed deal that was empty at the time. Our hostel was a small operation, taking up only two floors in an otherwise normal apartment building but it was a pleasant place to stay.

Eager to learn more about the history of the city we set out the next morning with a walking tour provided by our hostel. Walking tours such as these are provided at nearly every city and usually geared towards backpackers such as ourselves. The premise is that the guides are free and the tour guides are unpaid but at the end of the tour you can tip the guide what you believe it was worth. Our guide was born and raised in Madrid, had four or five surnames and was to quote her “as Spanish as they come” She took us on a three hour tour of the city walking as quickly as she talked. We learned a lot of the history and significant places in the city (a decent part of which I am ashamed to say I have already forgotten). After offering her our gratitude and a tip we decided to do a bit of exploring ourselves.

Perhaps my favorite thing about Madrid was the ridiculously cheap prices for food and drink. Coming from France when a sandwich can cost 5€ (~$7) I was surprised that our lunch came out to only a few Euros each. One of the staples of the Spanish food and drink culture is that of tapas, small plates of food or sandwiches that are served in a bar with each drink for free. Some places will give you a tapa with each drink you order, while some will simply cook huge baskets of food and pass them around to their patrons throughout the night. The tradition of serving small food with drink comes from a law that was passed centuries ago to solve the problem that when farmers or laborers would take their midday siesta from work they would not have anything to eat preferring instead to spend their money on alcohol. Drinking on an empty stomach created productivity problems for the workers during their afternoon shift. The king at the time passed a law that all bars must give out portions of food with their drinks in order to combat the problem. The name comes from the same king who was using one of the sandwiches provided to cover the top of his drink as to prevent insects from landing in it. When he finished his drink he asked for another “lid”, which in Spanish is “tapa”. The tradition stuck and has been in its name ever since.

Also in the city was the most famous chocolateria to order chocolate con churros. The dish (snack really) is a large mug of hot chocolate of syrup consistency served with sticks of fried dough. For serving something so simple, the chocolateria was very elaborate with marble topped table and brass handrails leading to their lower level. We were told that they never close, but stay open all through the night to satisfy the late night cravings of partied-out Madridians. One eats the dish by first dipping the churros in the chocolate and then drinking the rest of the chocolate straight out of the mug! They were so delicious we ordered twice.

When we returned to our hostel that evening one of the staff members informed us that his co-worker was planning on taking a few of the guests to some of his favorite places for a drink off the beaten path. It sounded like a relaxed night out so when we were invited we decided to join in. A group of about a dozen of us set off that night heading to a quieter part of Madrid to experience the local drinks and culture.

The coolest thing about backpacking is the ability to meet very interesting people. I feel that hostels offer a greater opportunity to get to know your fellow travelers. In a hotel or other similar accommodation once you arrive at your room you rarely get the chance to talk to anyone else. At a hostel however, there are always other people in your room and in the common rooms and kitchen. In addition, hostels will organize things like walking tours and guided nights out to give even more opportunity to meet others.

Our group in Madrid was no exception. We met several other students spending a semester or year abroad in places such as Scotland, Spain, Morocco, and Germany. Others were travelers such as one couple who, after two years of working the restaurant business in California, decided to suddenly quit their jobs and start traveling over Europe. They were doing a combination of hostels and “couch-surfing” which entails crashing in people’s spare bedroom or couch in their apartment. They had some savings and had been doing work along the way (some hostels will put you up for a week or so if you do chores during the day). They had no idea what they were going to do when they returned to the United States and even very little idea where in Europe they were going next. They had been planning as they went along, staying for as long or as short of a stay as they wished and moving on to the next place when they felt like it. The couple struck me as very optimistic, it seemed as if they both had a very strong belief that the trip and indeed their plans for the future would work out as they came.

Others were professionals enjoying time away (several countries were on break at the time). One lady in her late twenties talked about her work history nonchalantly mentioning places South America, Eastern Europe, and Africa that she had lived or worked in. We also met a young lady who had done her entire master’s degree in Madrid. She had returned to the United States for a few months while she finished up her thesis and was returning for her defense the next morning. I did not question the fact that it was currently midnight the night before she presented two year’s worth of research and she was in a sangria bar. We also had the chance to sample cava, Spanish sparkling wine. The bartender came over to our table and taught us how to pour Spanish cider, one holds the glass behind their back and the bottle behind their head and pours over a vertical distance of a few feet. It was tricky to master and there were a few spills throughout the course of our “training”.

Our appetites satiated with more delicious Spanish food, we left the next evening for the airport to head back to France for our next destination. 

-Adam