070908 – Spain, Madrid

At about 1030 in the morning, we all entered the shining, glorious day to a liquid stream of adverbs. As it turns out, Emma's phone had distinguished 1030 from 2230 and had diligently woken us the next morning.. so much for clubbing, but it appeared that we had all needed the sleep.

While shopping the night before, I'd found some yoghurt promising live-cultures. Consuming a number of the delicious little strawberry flavoured drinks, the results of which appeared to be World War 3 taking place along the course of my digestive tract... Emma's adverbs would not be the only liquid stream I would have to contend with for the day..

Having consoled ourselves with the fate of the night before, we set out for breakfast (I'd just gotten in for a bowl of cornflakes in the common-room, but was definitely desiring more). Heading down the street, Emma translated the food types, which resulted in our acquiring little pastries stuffed with chicken and beef.

The weather today was particularly spectacular (I had taken the precaution of wearing shorts that did not require a belt, leaving my mantle of power back at the hostel), we wandered through the park that appears to be the heart of Madrid. Today, there were a number of booksellers filling the streets feeding the green-space. Browsing the tittles, Emma purchased an ancient set of comics describing the lives of Livingston and other explorers.

Carefully watching the time, we made our way towards Sol train-station for the Tappas Tour. Stopping for ATMs and coffee (with maybe an extra pastry...), we arrived in good time and waited for our guide.

The three of us were the only people taking the Tappas Tour today. The next 3 hours consisted of us sipping drinks and sampling the variety of little snacks that accompanied. Opting for Sangria at 3 of the 4 bars, our 8 Euro were very well invested. Our guide, David, was from South America and filled us in on his opinion of the places as an outsider. Explaining some of the culture and history, he was well known at the places we tried and did not lead us astray. Taking care to provide us with meat-free tappas, we were well fed and feeling a little happy by the time the last beer had been drunk and the last plate was finished. It was an afternoon well invested and had been quite inexpensive.

Giving us a final nugget of leadership, David took us to the correct metro station for our Prada experience. Goodbyes said, we ventured into the underground network and were soon joining the queues to get into the historical art gallery. Uncertain about the length of the line, I circled the building in an attempt to find a quicker way in. Finding the others again, they were already at the front of the line. We entered through the security checkpoints and left our day-packs in the lockers. Emma had carefully chosen the day for our visit, as the Prada offer free entry on Sundays.
Having arrived at about 430-5pm, we wandered the famous halls till a little after 7pm. Gazing on the works of the famous artists, we saw multiple classics, including the nightmarish “Saturn devours his child”, the “Three Graces”, “Adam an Eve” and countless interpretations of the Civil War and history of Spain.
Our heads reeling in respectively different directions, we exited into the bright sunlight and began our return to the hostel. We planned on an early dinner, maybe a little blogging and email for a while, no naps and then clubbing or doing a pub-tour in the later hours.

Dinner consisted of a mince and tomato sauce on penne with grated cheese. Out of our element and surrounded by unfamiliar ingredients, Josh and I prepared the meal while Emma promised to do the dishes. Suitably satisfying, the two cooks still felt that the dish was lacking something essential. Regardless, the meal was finished and tummies were full. Yoghurt was added to the gastronomical hurricane that had been punctuating my day. For the most part, medication had been assisting my control of the situation, but had not decreased its nastiness.

Having completed our duties in the common-room, I blogged while the Luries watched some streaming videos. Though this had been planned to fill the intermission before our pub-crawl began, we unanimously agreed to skip the pub-crawl. “It would be filled with dodgies or bogans”.

As the hours grew late, we finally decided to simply call it an evening. Everyone was tired and I don't think that any of us were feeling particularly great.