A European Tour Part II: Monte-Carlo-Madrid

Please find the second (and final) installment of my European Journey blog that was started two weeks ago.  If you missed the first part, it can be found by clicking the link below:

https://libertinereflections.blogspot.com/2018/06/a-european-tour-prague-to-monte-carlo.html

A European Tour Part II: Monte-Carlo-Madrid

“Each day provides it own gifts.”  Marcus Aurelius

Gaudi's Sagrada Familia

I read some more Marcus Aurelius on the overnight train from Monte Carlo to Barcelona and arrived in the morning.  I had a few hours to check out the city and grab lunch before jumping on the train to Madrid.  I put my backpack into a locker and left the station.  I walked over to Las Ramblas, the large pedestrian street where there are many street performers and vendors.  It was packed with tourists, dirty and with many homeless people and drunks begging despite it being so early in the day.  I wasn’t expecting this.  After walking up and down the street and watching the performers- jugglers, dancers, fake statues that moved when you dropped in a coin, etc. I stopped at a little sidewalk café and had a sandwich and a beer.  I wasn’t feeling the love for Barcelona upon this first impression. 

The Arrest of Judas - the Sagrada Familia

I then went up to the Gaudi Church- the Sagrada Familia.  This was an unexpected treat and the architecture and design was unlike anything I’d ever seen before.  Gaudi mixed Gothic with Art Nouveau and somehow made the whole thing work.  The result is a masterpiece.  I strongly recommend seeing it to anyone visiting the area.

I then walked down to the Picasso Museum.  The museum lacked major works, but it had many drawings, sketches and other paintings, especially from his youth, so you get a deep understanding of how Picasso’s work grew and changed over his life.  It was fantastic and by the time I finished perusing the collection, it was time to catch my train.  I made my way back to the station and boarded for Madrid.  

My father, his wife and my aunt and uncle were due to arrive early the following morning on the red eye from New York and I wanted to make sure I was at the airport on time.  Their plane got in at like 6am and the plan was to drive straight from the airport to Toledo for a day/night and then down to Seville, Granada and Cordoba. 

Puerto del Sol - the center of Madrid

I arrived in Madrid in the afternoon and found a rooming house right off Puerto del Sol for $12 a night.  Puerto del Sol is the main square in the center of the city.  It’s also where I’d catch the bus to the airport the next morning.  It wasn’t much of a room and it wasn’t clean either, but it was cheap with a convenient location.  I dropped my things and went out to explore the city. 

Unlike Barcelona, I was blown away with Madrid from the start.  It’s a vibrant place full of energy.  Even now, many years later and many trips all around Spain, I still believe it’s hands down the best city in the country despite the fact that it is smack in the middle with no sea or beach nearby.  The food, culture, museums, nightlife- it’s all world class and the people of Madrid are my favorite Spaniards.  They are relaxed, open and have a palpable zest for life.  I get the impression that people view Madrid vs. Barcelona in a similar way as San Francisco vs. Los Angeles.  People will prefer one over the other and that’s just the way it is.  I’m a Madrid – L.A. man myself.       

I walked around the center to get a lay of the land and then rushed to check out

Goya's Dog

the Prado Museum before it got too late.  The Prado is one of the best museums you will find anywhere- the paintings they have by Goya are my favorite but the place is stuffed to the gills with masterpieces (Caravaggio, Titian, Rubens, Ribera- the list goes on and on).  Like all great museums around the world, you cannot do the Prado in one or even two visits, so I scavenged around for the artists I wanted to see and then headed out after a couple hours still digesting the beauty and inspiration of the pictures.

Goya's Colossus 

I spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around the outdoor patios of some tapas bars in Plaza de Santa Ana.  I found a few places that Hemingway used to frequent that still had strong character and good affordable food.  I then took a nap before heading out for the night. 

One of my tapas bars in Plaza de Santa Ana

"Our lives are what our thoughts make it." 

Once rested, I smoked a joint, grabbed some more tapas and beers and then went to a bar I had scouted earlier called Viva Madrid.  I was beaming with positivity that comes from exploring a place for the first time.  After Verona and Monte Carlo the previous nights, I knew Madrid would likely offer another life experience.  

Viva Madrid is a small hole in the wall bar on a narrow pedestrian street and it was packed from the time I arrived.  Everyone was friendly and outgoing.  I met a fellow American named Mark when ordering another drink.  He heard my accent and we started talking.  It’s funny how people are so much more friendly when they’re traveling.  He was in town for business and staying at a high-end five star hotel.  I didn’t feel the need to mention that I was at a $12 a night crap hole around the corner. 

My favorite little bar in Spain's capital-  Viva Madrid

Mark saw K.D. Lang when he was checking into his hotel and spoke with her stylist.  She told him about a few clubs that Lang’s entourage and likely K.D. herself were going to go to later.  He said he would be going later and invited me to join him, which sounded like a good plan.  I had my Monte Carlo winnings to cover the expense, so I wasn’t stressed about the economics of hitting a high-end disco.  Later, a German guy who was studying Spanish in the city for the summer joined our group.  He was a good addition, as he spoke pretty good Spanish, unlike Mark and me.  Around midnight, we grabbed a cab and headed to the club “K.D. Lang’s stylist recommended.”  

It was a bit of a hike out of the center, but it was worth it.  The place was thumping with techno music and was packed with beautiful, sexy people.  It was a real Madrid club scene.  Before I knew it, Mark returned from a drink run and offered me a little white pill. 

“What is it?”  I asked him.

“It’s a party pill- good stuff.  Take it.”    

“I’d love to, but I can’t.  I’ve got to meet my family at the airport tomorrow at like 6:30 in the morning and have to get up at 5 to catch the bus.”

“Get up?!?  It’s past 1am now and the place is just getting started- I don’t think you’re going to sleep tonight.  Take it and let’s make it a night!”  I hesitated.  Mark added, “It will wear off in a few hours and K.D. Lang will probably show up soon and I’ll get us into her group.”

I thought it over.  It was my first night out in Spain and I’d somehow found myself at a very trendy club surrounded by beautiful ladies, and nice, outgoing people giving away free party pills.  I decided not to fight the energy, “Ok, you’re right, let’s do it.”

He handed me the little white pill and I downed it with my beer.

The night went off the rails from there.  After a little while on the dance floor, we met an interesting group of French girls and I hit it off with one of them.  Later, we all went to another club around the corner that the stylist also mentioned to Mark.  When we were in transit between clubs, I rolled the rest of my weed into a joint and we all had a smoke.

The second club had a similarly great scene and after a while on the dance floor, my French girl and I wandered into a little lounge off to the side where we could sit on cushions on the floor and actually have a conversation without having to scream.  We parked ourselves in a corner and talked, drank, smoked cigarettes and made out for what seemed like only a short time, but was actually hours.  Before I knew it, I checked my watch and was shocked to see it was going on 5:30am!  I freaked, as my father had told me that I had to be at the airport when he arrived.  I said hurried goodbyes to everyone, gave my girl a goodbye kiss, we hugged and I left.  I think she was surprised in a bad way by how I high tailed it out of there so abruptly.  Matter of fact, so was I.     

I grabbed a cab by to my rooming house.  I was wet with sweat from the drugs, Spanish heat and dancing, so I needed a quick rinse and then had to immediately grab the bus to the airport.  

When I got to my hotel, no one was at reception.  I found that the shower was a communal one for the floor and when I went into it, it was locked.  For $12 a night, you didn’t get much.  I had to pay for a shower, but the place was still closed down for the night.  I couldn’t find anyone to help me, so I washed up in the sink, changed quickly, grabbed my backpack and caught the bus to the airport. 

I slipped off to sleep on the bus, but once at the airport, I was awake, late and stressed.  It was going on 7am.  This was before the age of cell phones, so I had no idea if my family was waiting or not.  This was going to be the first time I saw or really even spoke with my father since leaving the states well over a year before.  I got to the arrival hall and found that their plane had landed, but the information desk said that they were likely still in customs and baggage claim.  I was relieved and took a seat.  It was then that the stress dissipated, only to be replaced by exhaustion from staying out all night.  The effect of the party pill was pretty much gone by now, but with all the alcohol and smoking, I needed to crash badly.  I leaned my head back and closed my eyes hoping to get a short recharge.    

Within only a few minutes, the arrival doors opened and my dad, his wife and my aunt and uncle came out with a bunch of luggage in tow.  We all embraced and said our hellos and then my father said, “It was a nightmare flight, lots of turbulence the whole way.  None of us slept a wink.  You’ll have to drive us to Toledo, we’re exhausted.”  He then handed me keys to a mini van they’d rented.

Marcus Aurelius 

"Nothing happens that we are not formed by nature to bear."

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” I said, “but ok.”  I put on a brave face and took the keys.  I wasn’t about to say anything about the night I just had or the fact that I also hadn’t slept and was trashed. 

The next thing I knew I was driving a big van with my family, who had all fallen asleep immediately as we hit the road, out of Madrid and down to the great city of Toledo--- all the while praying that I didn’t pass out and kill all of us.  Aurelius was once again correct when he said, “The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing.”  Like Monte Carlo the night before, and Verona before that, this European tour was promising to be one for the ages- if I made it out alive!  Viva España!

Toledo, Spain

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