Travelblog:Last night.

Last night was our last night and we celebrated in style.

First we found an Irish bar with an actual Irishman in it and persuaded him that the two spaniards and a dog in the bar weren't interested in the Wigan v Tottenham match and could he please put the Rugby cup final on.

Five pints and one fantastically close game later we got some food bought some takeout beer and headed to the park.

Theres a huge monument in park de retiro which looks over the lake and we were told to 'be there when the sun goes down'.

Following these rather cryptic instruction we entered throu the enormous park gate and heard a hellish, frenzied drumming the like of which I can only describe as being akin to those last heard in Helms Deep.

There were 40-50 drummers and at least 200 people drinking and dancing. We were the only tourists there and we soon mingled in.

It was one hell of a way to say goodbye to a city that loves me right back.

Time to catch a flight.

travelblog:irish bars

Irish bars are the new fungus. They are everywere and you know what you're going to get.

the craic is normally supplied by the beer and the company and with the number of irish expats its always availible.

watching rugby in an irish bar always separates the fans from the wannabes. Its such a complex game even the players get confused. So when someone you dont know correctly calls for a knock on, you know you're in good company.

The barmen inevetiably know the right places to go onto after and if you're really lucky their shift finishes in ten minutes and they were planning on going there themselves after!

My last night in Madrid, and it may be my most memorable and the one I remeber the least about.

Travelblog:El Rastro

El Rastro is a great Madrid Sunday morning tradition. After the late night excesses of saturday the people of this city love nothing better than to browse the stalls of El Rastro market.

Half of it is your standard sloganed tshirt and tat stalls. The other half is weird antiques and strange fashions that u cant imagine anyone buying.

Its so popular with locals and tourists alike that its developed its own style of walking. The Rastro strut is one where you slowly stroll with both hands jammed in your front pockets protecting your valuables from the numerous pickpockets.

drunk travellog: random snipets

Ankle length black leather skirt on a boy as pale as snow.

"Bobble bobble."

"Hi mum, meet Cindy!"

"thats every mans fantasy, park and ride!"

a busy bar with four people in it.

Rob chocolate.

animated toilet.

"taxi? My arse!"

a well dressed middle aged man, drunk, shouting "Lost!" at the top of his lungs at the pretty girls of the madrid midnight metro.

two lovers meeting on the steps of the square and being so taken with each other, for them, no-one else exsists.

Drunk travellog : mojitos in Chueca

Note to self. Don't order cocktails on the patio of a poncy Cafe when slightly inebriated without first checking the price.

At least not if you feel like putting your kids through college.

subways is subways

Subways are subways the world over. They are the great levelers in citys where the gap between rich and poor is greatest. The perfumed and the Prada-ed have to rub shoulders with those of us unfourtunate enough to reek of sick and special brew. Which is not me I hasten to add! Unless its a particularly good thursday.

Went on the metro/subway to see the home of Real Madrid. All i can say is they must get through some brasso with all their trophies. The pitch, stadium even their dressing room is impressive espically the three storey shop.

You can buy almost anything there from replica strips throu Real Madrid teddys on to models of the actual players. Almost anything, as you cant actually buy match tickets at the ground.

So they build you up about what a great side and how fantastic they are and then, "Tickets?" in the same manner you might say "Faeces?".

travel blog: an adendum and an admission

These entries arent well constructed, arent very interesting and probably arent fun to read. Lets not even mention spelling or grammar!

I make wild claims, dont finish arguments properly and never ever supply evidence.

I also tend to cover old ground talking about the same things but i dont care.

These entries are meant to be gonzo in the real sense of the word. They are meant to be read as written with no corrections, no editing and no apologies.

I'm sitting in a portogese bar in the middle of madrid with hams the size of tree trunks swinging in the breeze in front of me. Everyone else is seista-ing back at the hotel.

I used to hate being on my own but I have learnt to relish it, espically in a strange country where the language is a gorgeous mystery. You are forced to rely on strangers to help you out with buying stuff which can be embarassing but the sense of freedom that comes with the knowledge you can cope is priceless!

travel blog: timings

Normally it'll be the jet lag that gets to you making you feel totally on adifferent wavelength from those around you. In madrid its meal lag.

After days of good tapas we decided to have a good full meal. Not a problem madrid is full of good resturants. However we made the mistake of going for dinner at dinner time, about half six.

We may as well have been asking the waiters for deep fried elephant foreskin.

"we dont start serving dinner till 8," was the universal reply," would you like some tapas instead?"

Hemmingway said Madrillenos dont go to bed until they have 'killed the night'. I was surprised to find it was true. Not only for food but also they wouldnt dream of going to bed before dawn.

We dont expect such a similar culture to ours to have such different customs when it comes to timings to eat and sleep.

Travel blog: Tapas is the way of the future.

The theory of Tapas is simple, little and often. You have a drink and some cheese or bread with olive oil then move to the next bar and have some good ham with a beer. Then next bar a fino sherry with some olives. Ad infinitum, ad non infinitum.

The maderillos would never think of sitting in one place downing ten pints and then having a kebab. The restless latin spirit keeps them moving and suits the bar hopping lifestyle perfectly.

Its great for us tourists as well as it gives us a chance to sample loads of bars without getting slautered. Having the tapas with every drink means you never get really sloshed. The happy phase of drinking continues for hours!

Took a long walk today down La Gran Via and sampled some of the delights Madrid has to offer. Its fairly traffic heavy. Strike that. Its VERY traffic heavy with every avenue and alleyway crammed with cars vans and mopeds. All of the vehicles show the bumps and scrapes of what its like to live here.

It reminds me a lot of new york but with an actual soul. It has the spirit of Paris without the endless tourist traps and the friendlyness i felt in Berlin.

I feel welcome here, which is not something im used to feeling as a tourista!

airpueto

Madrid airport is a modern art sculpture put to industrial use. The huge space, with wooden rafters and angled skylights puts you in mind of a contempory cathedral. This temple to travel hosts more worshipers per day than madrids innumerable churches will host in a week. Verfent prayers to the God of lost bagage and Saint Christopher are audible from dawn till dusk.

They were still building the metro station that we were meant to take so a quick taxi ride throu rush hour gave us a glance at madrid from the asphalt.

It reminds me a lot of Paris but without the glaring tourist honey traps. The tapas are lovely and possibly the best invention since sliced bread. In fact they were orignally meant to be slices of bread to put over your drink to keep the flies off. Now its a stunning varity of hot and cold dishes all served to share.
Hotel is clean and ok, no AC thou but its fairly mild so not a problem so far.
There are hundreds of bars and resturants within walking distance and we managed 3 last night. More tonight no doubt!

Traveling isnt the bad part i actually enjoy seeing different cultures, trying new languages and enjoying strange terrifying foods. Its the waiting to travel that hurts. Every airport looks the same. Once you've sampled one awfull coffee you've had to remorgage the house for, you've tried them all.
My dream is to start a brand new airline. SOMNA-AIR. Upon check in our trained medical staff gently and competantly knock you the fuck out. On arrival you are carefully revived and fully refreshed you can start your day.

It cuts out all the pointless waiting around and endless visits to tie rack.

Yes i am still waiting for the frelling plane.

airport depression

Is there anything more depressing than waiting in an airport? They're places to pass throu not live in. Soulless dead eyed staff gape vacantly at you their personality eroded by too long staring into the abyss of terminal threes' departure lounge.
On our way to madrid where i'll update you from next.