Today we were back on the road - packing up, taking the metro (which we are obviously pros at now) back to the aeropuerto de Madrid, and waiting, waiting, waiting. Instead of getting right to the airport 20 minutes before boarding, we were there around 2 hours ahead of time. Unfortunately, we also chose apparently the wrong ticket option (electronic tickets), which meant we were the last three people to board the plane. I was a little worried when the flight attendant told me to "wait over there" that I wouldn't be able to get on at all! (We had booked through an airline none of us had ever heard of before - Spanair- no, that is not a typo, and we didn't know how it worked as far as tickets and stuff, but we did end up being on the plane when it took off with all our stuff.)
It was nice to arrive and not have a connection to make and it was not late at night either, which just made everything seem (literally and figuratively) sunnier. We decided to wait around the Barcelona airport for an hour, eat, and see if our friend who was coming in later that afternoon would arrive so we could all go to the hostel together. However, since we didn't know Jess' flight number (we did know the airline though), we decided to go ahead without her after 2 hours of sitting around. This time we had to take a shuttle bus to the train station (there weren't really any signs and we had no idea where the bus was actually going until we got there) and then there was a guy in an orange jumpsuit standing at the entrance to the station handing out what I thought were pamphlets. I said I didn't want one. Ooops! They were the tickets for the train, which apparently is completely free because when BCN built the rail line, it wrecked many waterways or something like that and as a result, it's freeeeeee! We found our metro line, got tickets, and got to the hostel all in quite good time. The hostel itself was very different from the last one - very modern with lots of steel and bright colors, and very, very clean.
We checked in and found a bunch of books on Spain and BCN, so we sat around doing some research on what to do while waiting for Jess to show up. When she finally made it, it was still only about 4pm, and we decided to walk around a little and go to the centre ville. We ended up finding a great Indian place a little ways off of La Rambala (where everyone gets pick pocketed and smokes lots of illegal drugs - illegal in the US at least...), went back to the hostel after eating, and another IES-er, Julie was there. Then lots of planning for the rest of the week was done and done and sleeping was achieved.
Showing posts with label madrid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label madrid. Show all posts
Monday, February 25, 2008
Palais! Which one?
This morning started out a little later because Vanessa and I ended up meeting a Canadian girl, Laura, who was just settling into our room and also travelling by herself and we thought she'd like to come with us. So about 30 minutes later we started off walking down the Avenue del Prado to see all the great big landmarks of Madrid. We did see quite a few ornate buildings, including the Agricultural Center, Communications Center, and the National Library. Then instead of finding the royal palace like we had planned, we ended up finding the Palace of Justice (whoops) and a few fantastic cathedrals.
Eventually, later that afternoon, we did make our way over to the Royal Palace and Cathedral, which was very cool. We didn't pay to go in though (a little museum-ed out from yesterday) and instead headed back to the hostel for a siesta. Later on, we met the Quebequoise, Isabelle, and we all went out to dinner together, mingling a bunch of French and English together for a language understood by all.
The other two French girls and the girls from New Zealand had left this morning, and we had an older Spanish lady in our room as well as another girl no one really saw (but her stuff was there). I have to say, Spain is much more vibrant late at night than France, partially because of the late dinner time, and also a little because of the warmer weather, I think.
Eventually, later that afternoon, we did make our way over to the Royal Palace and Cathedral, which was very cool. We didn't pay to go in though (a little museum-ed out from yesterday) and instead headed back to the hostel for a siesta. Later on, we met the Quebequoise, Isabelle, and we all went out to dinner together, mingling a bunch of French and English together for a language understood by all.
The other two French girls and the girls from New Zealand had left this morning, and we had an older Spanish lady in our room as well as another girl no one really saw (but her stuff was there). I have to say, Spain is much more vibrant late at night than France, partially because of the late dinner time, and also a little because of the warmer weather, I think.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Prancing through the Prado
Today was much less stressful than yesterday, thank goodness! We were able to sleep in a little and then had breakfast at Cat's Hostel and walked to the Prado (about 5-10 minutes away) because it is free on Sundays. When we got there we found out it's only free after 5pm, but 4 euros wasn't too bad for an entire day of art and culture. There was a huge expo on Velasquez's life and works wrapping up the day we went, so it was a little crowded, but not too bad. We even met up with another IESer in line accidentally and hung out with her the rest of the day. She was in Madrid visiting a friend who is studying here, so after the Prado, we met up with her friend and went out to the very edge of the city to see a flamenco performance at the Teatro de Madrid. It was definitely more contemporary than the traditional touristy performances, but it was cool to see because that is what Spanish people are watching, not tourists.
On the walk from the metro stop to the theatre, we even saw an authentic Spanish car accident with someone's tire blowing up and causing them to slam into the car in front of them. Much yelling and hand-waving followed (no one was hurt, but the cars were pretty banged up). After the flamenco, we headed over to Plaza del Sol to get some food and went for an authentic Spanish restaurant. I had a potatoe and ham sort of omelette tortilla thing and flan for dessert. It was quite good and not too pricey.
On the walk from the metro stop to the theatre, we even saw an authentic Spanish car accident with someone's tire blowing up and causing them to slam into the car in front of them. Much yelling and hand-waving followed (no one was hurt, but the cars were pretty banged up). After the flamenco, we headed over to Plaza del Sol to get some food and went for an authentic Spanish restaurant. I had a potatoe and ham sort of omelette tortilla thing and flan for dessert. It was quite good and not too pricey.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Time Travels
Hola from Espana (finally!). Today was, shall we say, extremely long and hectic. Traveling really shouldn't make me this tired - I'm just sitting most of the time, right? Ah, no, today reminded me that the stress of traveling more than makes up for the lack of physical exertion.
This morning started out great - woke up on time, was all ready and packed, caught the right bus to Commerce and the right tram to Gare SNCF Nord, met Vanessa and Brian, found my seat on the TGV, got my ticket punched, had my 12-25 card. It was all grandly trucking (errr training?) along. That is, until between Le Man and Angers, when we apparently hit a person. The announcer came on, told us there had been an accident and we would have to wait for local authorities to get there and assess the situation. An hour and a half delay. I said, "Alright. Our plane is at 4:25 and it's only 10 something. We'll be fine." I go and borrow a book from Brian who was two cars up, text-message Vanessa a few times, and ask the conductor what is going on - "Apparently it was a suicide," he says. Fast-forward about an hour and the announcer is talking to us again - this equals another 2 hours of sitting in the countryside watching the goose pond and some ponies grooming each other. 45 minutes after the second announcement the announcer comes on again. At this point I am ready to say, "Turn around and take me home, French local authorities! I want to wake up from this bad dream." But this time, we're moving. So instead of arriving at Montparnasse at 11:15, we get there at 2:30, and we have no idea how we're getting to the airport.
I went and asked the information guy if there was a bus to CDG, he says, "But of course, mademoiselle - it is right that way." There is no bus. There is however, a very kind Frenchman who tells us if we walk this very short distance on the map to Place Royale, we can catch the RER to CDG. We start walking, and walk some more, and some more. Finally, around 30 minutes later, we have found the mythical RER, get on, and get to the airport about 20 minutes before our gate closes - but our gate isn't posted. So we grab a quick (and absurdly overpriced) lunch and finally get on our plane to Madrid.
Arriving in Madrid is a little hectic since now we have to figure out how to get to the hostel. I don't want to spend money on a taxi, but knowing how the subway system in Paris is (and Madrid's reputation), I'm not completely all for taking the metro. The metro it is in the end however, and what a nice surprise! Madrid's metro system is lovely, clean, well organized, and very easy to take. We make our three connections and find the hostel within about 10 minutes walking from the Anton Martin stop.
The hostel was lovely, old, and apparently used to be a palace. It is a historical monument that is protected by the federal govt. of Spain. Wow. Why they let loads of kids stay here, I don't know. Vanessa and I must have looked tired and paranoid (V almost got pick pocketed twice on the metro) and the reception guy upgraded us to a room with less people, only girls, and right next to the bathroom, free of charge. After settling in, we all go and wander around a bit (dinnertime is around 9pm here, so lots of people and little kids are out quite late). Then about 10:30, we head back to the hostel for free paellas (provided you get a drink). It was delicious.
In our room with us: 2 French girls, 2 New Zealanders (who are travelling around Europe for 7 months (eek!)), a Quebequoise, and us.
This morning started out great - woke up on time, was all ready and packed, caught the right bus to Commerce and the right tram to Gare SNCF Nord, met Vanessa and Brian, found my seat on the TGV, got my ticket punched, had my 12-25 card. It was all grandly trucking (errr training?) along. That is, until between Le Man and Angers, when we apparently hit a person. The announcer came on, told us there had been an accident and we would have to wait for local authorities to get there and assess the situation. An hour and a half delay. I said, "Alright. Our plane is at 4:25 and it's only 10 something. We'll be fine." I go and borrow a book from Brian who was two cars up, text-message Vanessa a few times, and ask the conductor what is going on - "Apparently it was a suicide," he says. Fast-forward about an hour and the announcer is talking to us again - this equals another 2 hours of sitting in the countryside watching the goose pond and some ponies grooming each other. 45 minutes after the second announcement the announcer comes on again. At this point I am ready to say, "Turn around and take me home, French local authorities! I want to wake up from this bad dream." But this time, we're moving. So instead of arriving at Montparnasse at 11:15, we get there at 2:30, and we have no idea how we're getting to the airport.
I went and asked the information guy if there was a bus to CDG, he says, "But of course, mademoiselle - it is right that way." There is no bus. There is however, a very kind Frenchman who tells us if we walk this very short distance on the map to Place Royale, we can catch the RER to CDG. We start walking, and walk some more, and some more. Finally, around 30 minutes later, we have found the mythical RER, get on, and get to the airport about 20 minutes before our gate closes - but our gate isn't posted. So we grab a quick (and absurdly overpriced) lunch and finally get on our plane to Madrid.
Arriving in Madrid is a little hectic since now we have to figure out how to get to the hostel. I don't want to spend money on a taxi, but knowing how the subway system in Paris is (and Madrid's reputation), I'm not completely all for taking the metro. The metro it is in the end however, and what a nice surprise! Madrid's metro system is lovely, clean, well organized, and very easy to take. We make our three connections and find the hostel within about 10 minutes walking from the Anton Martin stop.
The hostel was lovely, old, and apparently used to be a palace. It is a historical monument that is protected by the federal govt. of Spain. Wow. Why they let loads of kids stay here, I don't know. Vanessa and I must have looked tired and paranoid (V almost got pick pocketed twice on the metro) and the reception guy upgraded us to a room with less people, only girls, and right next to the bathroom, free of charge. After settling in, we all go and wander around a bit (dinnertime is around 9pm here, so lots of people and little kids are out quite late). Then about 10:30, we head back to the hostel for free paellas (provided you get a drink). It was delicious.
In our room with us: 2 French girls, 2 New Zealanders (who are travelling around Europe for 7 months (eek!)), a Quebequoise, and us.
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