I awoke to a bang which signalled to me not only had a slept through my entire flight, but i was now on Spanish soil. Hola madrid! A battle though the sweltering tube led me to 360 hostel, and a room of screaming girls, whose excitement merely turned out to be a case of mistake identity. Nevertheless it was enough to get conversation started, and in the end form a friendship group that would last my 4 nights in Madrid. It seemed they too had just checked their bank balances and realised when there were kitchen facilities available, you had to make the most of it. When the actual friends arrived, there was mor screaming, this time warranted, and as a group we headed to the supermarket to stock up on staples.
As we descended out the escalators to the ground level supermarket, the screaming theme continued as I let out an involuntary squeak out excitement at the 3 entire walls labelled sin gluten. It was hot, it had gluten free food by the tonne, don't ask me how anyone could give this place a bad wrap. With my arms full with bread, rice cakes, pasta, sauce, veggies, vodka, ham and cheese, the girls and I headed straight for the kitchen to cook up feasts.. Or penne with arrabiatta sauce and salami, and chicken burritos with lettuce and tomato, not exactly gourmet. It was time for predrinks, and these girls knew how to pour, after 3 glasses, I was struggling to keep the room in focus, not an ideal situation to be in before leaving the hostel kitchen. We joined in on a pub crawl with our fellow hostel mates, and after an hour of power at the first bar (unlimited beer/sangria), arriving at an empty club at 2am was a clear sign to call it quits and go home, via Burger King of course. I see, to have a knack for making friends who are just as obsessed with food as me, or maybe it's just a Europe thing? I'm not sure.
Even though we had a relatively early night, we all got off to a slow start and opted for the 2pm walking tour, rather than 10am. In the meantime, I strolled the streets of Madrid solo and soaked up the warmth with open arms after the cooler English weather. All reviews I had received of Madrid were quite negative and I was assured 4 nights would be more than enough, but as I turned one corner and was met with an incredible park, palace, and fountain, and around the next, a gorgeous 60 year old opera singer busking on a street corner, I had already begun to fall in love. I returned to the hostel and the girls and we set off on our walking tour. Our guide was dry interactive and I even got to be part of a role play of Spanish history, in which I managed to score the role of the worst King of Spain in all history.. Awesome. He showed us some great secrets of Madrid, the best tapas street, a nunnery which sold cookies, a food market!!! And a 24 hour chocolate shop. After re-reading that I realised I only mentioned the food stops, he did also show us sights of historical and cultural importance, but clearly food is my main interest and I subconsciously blocked anything actually important out, oops. Whilst on the tour, they tried (and succeeded) to sell their other tour to us, a Tapas tour. We signed on for that evening and after a little siesta, it was time to eat! The first tapas bar was my sort of place, nearly every dish was potato based, fried potatoes, mashed potatoes, potato salad, omelette, Bravas- I was happy. In half an hour we got a glass of sangria and about 15 different dishes, all you can eat until the clock struck nine.. Needless to say I made the most of it. Be two held the promise of unlimited cider and picturing a cold crisp Rekordelig I power walked at the front of the group. Cider in Spain I quickly learnt, is nothing remotely like cider in Australia. 'Sidra' is in fact a revolting, bitter, sour, over fermented alcohol, which must be poured from a height into the glass hitting the side to avoid upsetting your stomach. Surely if it even has the potential to make you ill, it shouldn't be drunk, however it seems clever after spending longer in Spain (yes I'm writing this two weeks later), sidra is a specialty and held in high accord amongst all Spaniards, as far as I'm concerned, BLARGH! Even though the sidra was free, it was so vile I w happy to spent cash on jugs of sangria, just to get the taste out of my mouth. Soon we were drunk again and back on the pub crawl for th second night in a row. This time, we were prepared. The previous night we had paid 10 euro for an hour of power, and we were given a plastic glass, hold onto yor glass and get free drinks. So all we needed was a glass, and as soon as I walked in, I was on the prowl. Within 5 minutes, I'd found the golden cup (well dirty plastic actually) and I was filling up glass after glass for free, success! As we moved to the next bar we saw others holding plastic cups, surely it couldn't be the trick everywhere? But it was our lucky night and as we went on another cup pinching fest, it was free drinks all around and my wallet was very happy. Our next stop was less focused on drinking, instead the main activity was ,y favourite, dancing! Salsa time!! Those few Sundays at the night cat seems invaluable as the locals were amazed at my talent, while the others uttered a lot of sorry's for squishing toes left, right and centre. Mind you, I was counting 1,2,3 out loud, but this either went unnoticed, or they were just lying about my 'talent' to get a dance. Still, as far I was concerned (sangria strongly influencing me) I was a salsa champion, and hot, sweaty and exhausted I stumbled home at 5.30am and fell straight to sleep.
Sunday meant hangovers and markets, so I sucked it up and headed off to face the crowds at Madrid's flea market. Nothing took my fancy but the girls stocked up on cheap sunnies and jewellery. I felt as though I was sleeping on ,y feet and I only woke up when I heard food, and off to the food market we went. I was so excited after walking past on the tour but on closer inspection it was rather pricey for rather small portions, eg 1 euro for one olive. Not ideal, but I hunted out a bargain, octopus paella and a vegetable skewer for 6 euro, much to the envy of the others who emptied their pockets for olives and calamari. The effects of our late night finally seemed to hit everyone, and after an extremely brief attempt at shopping, we all had crashed so much we got the lift to ground floor in Zara and basically crawled up the stairs to bed for a siesta. I felt so much better after a sleep and a shower so e headed off for a nice tapas farewell dinner as the girls left the next morning. The food was delicious, and my love for patatas bravas grew considerably with my second taste test. We headed up to a temple noted for its incredible sunsets, and just like churches, all sunsets now look the same and fail to really 'wow' me, I have become too desensitised after watching them night after night, but the golden ball dropping through the pink sky admittedly was a nice finish, to a lovely evening.
Solo again I had one direction, the gluten free bakery. We had walked past it on our way to the Tapas tour and even the memory of the sign gave me shivers. On entry I was so excited and overwhelmed I took ten photos and five minutes before I even made my fist order of a carrot cupcake. This was the first of many orders as I got the wifi password, set up shop for the morning, and over strawberry cheesecake booked my trip to India at the end of November. To celebrate this, I thought a third treat was in order, and third time lucky, the banana bread was mind blowing! After 4 hours inside, I thought it was probably appropriate to leave while I still had a strand of dignity left and headed to the Prato Museum for a dose of culture. Another 4 hours passed and my brain and feet were equally exhausted from looking through the 5 exhibits, and thousands of paintings and sculptures. The next job on the list for the day was a much needed waxing session, which proved to be extremely interesting. Not one person in the salon could speak English, and I knew no Spanish, so after some awkward role playing and nods of apparent understanding I was booked in and waited nervously, for what I hoped would be a successful visit. I entered the entirely mirrored room which was a confronting start, and got ready for business. The awkward signalling and role playing continued, but my charades skills clearly got me somewhere as I walked out a happy girl! Some very interesting positions and moments, but an experience I will certainly not forget! I finally took Viki's advice and refilled my stomach at her fave spot, Wok to Walk, a stirfry bar which did not disappoint. Rice noodles, a heap of veggies and satay sauce was exactly what the doctor ordered, y-u-m! Madrid's palace had an enormous line so being a dumb tourist I joined the line to see what the fuss was about, but luckily as a dumb EU passport holding tourist, it was free. In the end, the wait was definitely worthwhile as the Palace was the most exorbitant and extravagant gold covered buildings I had ever seen and on building size alone, was the largest palace in Europe. In case I hadn't eaten enough yet, I cooked up the last of my pasta and this time added rocket to make it super healthy. Followed by 5 glasses of free sangria, and in possession of a lot of hostel recommendations I was sure to forget, I once again stumbled to bed and vowed to never drink sangria again. What a stupid thing to say.
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