Thursday, October 30, 2008
More to come...I promise!
HI All! Sorry for the absence of posts. My parents have been here since Tuesday October 14. Aside from working FT, we have been going out at night and taking trips every weekend. They are going to Italy on Saturday, so I´ll be able to add some new pics and stories then. Winter is here now, so if you always imagined sunny, Mediterranean Spain, Madrid is not that place!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
An Evening with High Society
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
La Maleta! La Maleta!
The last few evenings have been very mild, so last night, we went to the area around Plaza Mayor to buy me a new briefcase at a North African leather store and have some tapas and a drink at an outdoor cafe. We usually take the metro home, but there is a bus that drops us off practically at our door, so we took it. It usually runs every 10 minutes, but for some reason, we waited 40! Not 5 minutes into the ride, and still 15 from home, we hear shouting at the front. The bus driver was arguing with a passenger. The bus didn´t move. The arguing continued. The bus still didn´t move. What followed was a skit good enough for Madd TV. Since we were at the back of the bus, the only word we could hear was la maleta (the suitcase). Apparently, you cannot bring suitcases onto a bus. After another 5 minutes, the passengers started getting really mad. One lady yelled, "Just drive the stupid bus!" while another demanded a refund as it was her last euro, and now she needed to take another bus home. So I chimed in and said to Ingrid,"We can walk from here, but I want our 2 euros back!" So we go to the front of the bus where all the action was. The man with the maleta was yelling at the bus driver to stop being an ass (he used a much stronger word) and just drive. All the other passengers were on the man´s side, yelling things like it´s a small maleta, it´s late, we waited too long for the bus in the first place, the bus is half empty, there´s room for the maleta, etc. Then the bus drivers turns off the bus and says, "I´m calling the police!" He threatened to arrrest the man! Well, the passengers were not having this innocent working guy with his little maleta arrested. Suddenly, someone starts chanting maleta! maleta! maleta! and everyone joined in as if we were at a soccer match. This really pissed off the bus driver. I asked "Where´s the maleta?" picturing some gigantic army style duffel bag. Ingrid taps me on the shoulder and points to my left foot. I kid you not, I was standing next to the maleta that had to be no more than 15" tall and about 8" wide and was so small that it fit under the seats! Then I told the bus driver in Spanglish that I was taking his name and bus number and reporting HIM to the transit authorities as he should be arrested for taking our money, not doing his job, and holding us all hostage on the bus. Meanwhile, everyone is still chanting MALETA! MALETA! Then una abuela (grandma) about 4 feet 10 and 90 pounds all dressed up like the Madrilleños are famous for, walks to the front of the bus and tells the guy SHE can drive the bus because she has an appointment! It´s 10:30 at night! Where was she going, bingo? She went on and on about what a bad man he was and how her night was ruined and he was disrespecting all the passengers. It was mutiny! The bus driver, who was still waiting for the cops, finally threw up his hands and said, "JODER! But if anyone gets hurt, it is not my responsibility!" to which abuela replied, "The only person who´s gonna get hurt is YOU if you don´t start driving this bus." It was hysterical! The driver turned on the engine, all the people clapped, and off we went...Lessons learned - don´t take a maleta on a bus in Madrid AND always carry a video camera to record the unexpected surprises of daily life in Spain!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Madrid Nightlife
A Day in Chincon...
including a bus ride from hell and a Tweety Bird sighting. Two weeks ago, we wanted to visit Chinchon, famous for its bullring in the center of town. Unfortunately, we could not figure out how to get there. Luckily, last Sunday, our co-workers (and new partners in crime...details to follow) Anna & Donna invited us to accompany them to Chinchon. So we all met at the busstop in the pouring rain. It was a 50 minute over the hills and through the fields and around the mountains to granmother's house we go ride that made Ingrid quite motion sick on the way back, even though she was the only one who was sober. Cheap red wine served out of plastic bags is better than dramamine. Anyway, we missed both the 9am and 6pm bullfights, but we did get to walk around the bullring. We strolled around town, bought 2 pounds of the best coconut macaroons I have ever eaten, half of which I ate before the ride home, and dined at an 18th Century estate converted into a winery & restaurant that serves entire oven-roasted baby pigs. http://www.cuevasdelvino.com/mesoning/imeson.htm
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Snails Snails & More Snails!
We went to the market to buy sardines, but they were out. So then we asked for rainbow trout. Strike #2. Then we saw a little plastic bag with snails! We love snails, but haven't a clue how to cook them. For 4 euros, how bad could they be? So we buy the snails and rush home like 2 kids after they buy a goldfish at the pet store. We weren't sure if they were alive or not, so we carried them very carefully. We got home and looked at each other and I said, "Ingrid, open the bag & I'll get a recipe on the net!" While I searched, she opened the bag & started examing one up close. "It has a face!" she says. I start reading out loud, "Don't leave the snails unattended or they may crawl away." Ingrid says, "Crawl how? Aren't they
dead?" and throws the snail back in the sink. "It says to put salt on them to see if they are alive," I continue. So, we toss some salt & nothing. "They're dead," said Ingrid. So, we wash them off and boil them for about 4 minutes. Then we get out the frying pan, pour in some olive oil, crushed garlic, and butter, and simmer the guys for about 15 or 20 minutes. I tasted one at 10 minutes and it was still slimy. Once cooked, we pulled them out of the shell and ate them with a baguete and a bottle of white wine. Yummy! Then as I popped the last one into my mouth, Ingrid counted them...107! Whoever comes to visit will be treated to this very un-American dish. It looked just like this...
El Escorial
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