Kangaroo and Classico

Hello from Madrid! I'm feeling remarkably well rested considering the grand festivities last night, but that's because I was too tired to actually partake in any of those festivities. This was due to a few different things; among them my early train ride and fatigue from many late nights, but first and foremost among those factors was the fat American girl in the bed accross from mine in my San Sebastian hostel, who snored like epileptic thunder, like a space shuttle unsuccessfully trying to take off, like an old Harley Davidson with no muffler... In fact it was even worse than that... it was like my grandpa. Her apparent sleep apnea was the worst part, supplying false hope at random intervals throughout the night - "Oh my god, is it over? She hasn't breathed in a whole minute... maybe she died!.. maybe she fina- SSSHNNSHHGNAAWWWAAAAWWAAAAAAAAAA-EE-E-E-EGHGHGNFFFF... Fuck." Thanks for the all-night serenade, Roxanne. Yeah, that really is her name.

Still, I got to watch a Classico in Madrid (A "Classico" is a soccer match between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona, two of the best teams in the world, who have over a century of history between them), and Madrid ended up winning the Copa Del Rey, hence the gigantic party. I watched the match in a steamy, frantic Irish bar called Ulysses, with a great international crowd, sipping my expensive imported Bulmers cider and enjoying every minute. I was sitting with a bunch of Spanish students from various countries; a tiny American student kept asking "Really? But why are you just traveling around in Spain? Like what are you DOING here?", and although I told her a few times that I'm simply out seeing the world, in all its splendor and glory (inciting nods of agreement from other heads around the table), she got bored of my answer (and the game) and fell asleep on my shoulder. Clearly even those Americans who actually make it out of the country can be just as obnoxious as those who don't bother. But then, this isn't news to me; I've had the misfortune of meeting unpleasant, grumpy, ignorant, or simply uninterested Americans the world round! I don't mean to single Americans out; there are crappy people from every country, of every race gender and class. America just seems to have a real propensity to export without screening for social aptitude...

Despite snoozey the American dwarf, I still had a great time. I cheered for Madrid, just to be agreeable, and the place went absolutely nuts when Ronaldo scored a solid header in extra time. I would have liked to go out last night and enjoy the fiesta, but I really didn't have it in me. Sadly, when I got home there were THREE snorers in my room, creating a syncopated cacophany of gurgling, rumbling and snorting, with some very unhealthy sounding burbling ocasionally spicing up the mix. Why, oh why did I neglect to bring earplugs? Really, I should have known better... but I think I'll find a hardware store today and fix that little problem once and for all.

The weather forecast for the next few days is not all that pleasant; there was a torrential downpour last night, and it appears I'll be seeing much more of the same. But alas, as I only have a few days here in the city, I can't afford to wait it out, and as such I'll be out with the rain jacket and a plastic bag for my camera. Madrid has a veritable plethora of sites, which will keep me busy for days to come, so I'd better quit writing about my experiences and get out there to make some new ones.

But before that there's one last thing worth mentioning: The night before last, a bunch of us from the hostel went out for a little tapas, and we found some interesting ingredients at one of the vibrant bars lining the streets of the old town. And it was there that I had the deeply ironic yet enjoyable experience of watching an Australian, having travelled halfway around the world to immerse himself in a different culture, eat kangaroo in Spain. I thought this was hilarious, but nobody else seemed to find it all that interesting...

C