Since my last blog post, I have fled the country, attended a British bachelor party, and drank a little something called panther milk. Yes, reread that sentence if you must. Believe it or not, all three of those statements are true.
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| Reunited with Miss Eva :) |
However, you can rest assured by the fact that I am writing to you now that I did in fact survive my trip to the wonderful land of Madrid, Spain. Last weekend, with Lauren by my side, I set out on my Spanish adventure, in search of the lovely Eva--one of my best friends from home--who is studying in Spain for the semester.
Aside from booking my flight and the hostel*, however, I was a bit of a slacker when it came to the touristy logistics of our trip. Luckily, Eva was a fabulous (and hilarious) tour guide--leading us all around while we attempted to perfect the Spanish lifestyle.
You may think that living and learning an entire lifestyle over a span of three days would be difficult. And here, you would be wrong (A) because this was our one goal for the weekend and (B) because we were in Spain... meaning all that truuuuly matters is the food, siesta, and nightlife... right?!
Of course, we did hit up the congress, the palace, an awesome market, and all of the most fabulous plazas in Madrid:
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Meanwhile, we became quite well-acquainted with the city’s infamous, bear-sniffing-tree symbol along with the overwhelming number of incredibly creepy street performers. (I’m not sure if I can even call them “performers” in all seriousness.)
In Florence, we cringe at the sight of them and scowl when tourists crowd around to photograph them. Um ew. Anyhow, at least we are just stuck with the silver-faced ones that freeze-dance like statues outside of the Uffizi.
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| MADRID |
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| FLORENCE |
Madrid, there should be laws against the sparkly, clicking goats that roam your streets.
Scarred.
For.
Life.
For such an awesome city, it is also a bit disconcerting the number of “Museos de Jamon” that permeate the streets. For the non-Spanish speakers, that literally translates to “Ham Museum.” They’re obsessed with ham.
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Arriving in Spain, I realized how worryingly little I learned about Spanish cuisine after studying the language since sixth grade. Hey Colleen and Pia, remember that time we served Senora Jenkins’ Spanish class nutella and pineapple soda in conjunction with our oral presentation? Yup, that, right there, is my memory of Spanish food.
Eva introduced us to “tapas” which are the staples of Spanish cooking and generally involve some combination of eggs, potatoes, and yeah...you guessed it...ham. Yes, a weekend of Spanish food was certainly more than enough for me.
A Spanish custom that I would, however, like to adopt in my everyday life: A routine, power siesta before late nights on the town.
The idea of returning to the hostel at 7 in the evening for a lovely, little nap before heading out around 11 for the night, blew my mind--while making me a generally happier and more energetic person. Granted, the fact that people do not leave the house until 11 means that they do not return until 4 or 5 the next morning.
We spent our first night out with Eva and her school friends in a cave bar. The venue was equipped with a bar and a dance floor. Why is that anything special? Um, maybe because it was casually decorated with thousands of stalactites, hanging from the ceiling, because it was a cave. Unbelievable.
Well, this week let’s add “leche de pantera” (also known as panther milk) to Jenna’s alcohol index. Panther milk is a sickening combination of booze, milk, a mountain of sugar, AND--see my photo as proof for this one--the substance that oozes out of the cave’s stalactite.
Sadly, after spending Friday night in a cave, we didn’t have much faith in our ability to do any better on Saturday. After a similar day of touristing and eating our way through Europe (per usual) we attempted to go to a Flamenco show. Don’t get too excited... we didn’t get to go. From the look of shock on our concierge’s face, it became rapidly apparent that these things require planning. Whoops.
Instead, Lauren and I decided to treat ourselves to an incredibly romantic dinner for two--Seriously, with the number of pictures of the 2 of us from this trip, people are going to think we are dating...it’s disturbing. Anyway, we had been eyeballing this adorably swanky restaurant on our street from day 1. The menu outside looked great!
Upon entering, however, it was a totally different story. After staring at a menu that was quite blatantly NOT the menu outside, I ended up uncomfortably ordering us whatever sounded the least-risky. Nonetheless, the two of us sat in a state of utter panic until our plates were in front of us.
The result? The relieving arrival of two very normal, albeit very pricey, omelets accompanied by, none other than, french fries. (What else for the silly, confused, American girls?)
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| Well this isn't incredibly awkward or anything |
The rest of our night was spent in a bar that was playing host to a British bachelor party. The party-goers were all middle-aged, married, and decked out in foolish red hats. Hilarious.
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| Surely the greatest photo ever taken. Note: the man behind Lauren does not have a real mustache--that is Lauren's hair. |
Madrid was a definite success and being able to reunite with Eva in Europe was absolutely unreal.
What is my life?
Though it must seem like I have grown fully accustomed to casually bopping around Europe like it is nothing at all, I can assure you that this is something that I will never get used to or take for granted. Promise!
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| My friends being friends! |
*I should probably mention that I managed to screw up my only task.
A double for two people in the fancy, Salamanca district sounded delightful via hostelbookers.com. I mean, honestly, who wants to share a room with sketchy strangers? Certainly not this chick. Maybe I should’ve considered the fact that a double for two could actually refer to the size of the bed; not the size of the room. Whoopsies.
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| Yup Lauren's body length = the length of our room. Hello, Europe! |
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