Back in Vancouver.... NOW

Just got back today.
The fridgy smell of a 7-11, the view of the north shore mountains still with a bit of snow, the sun setting over the downtown, the funny coloured money that is so narrow it actually fits in my wallet... some re-integration impressions.

Finding the beach and back

I wasn't exactly lost, yet. I had gone to go find this beach which after a walk, a ferry ride, two longish bus rides and another 45 minute walk. By the time I got there I was able to take a few sunset pictures and watch someone parasailing off the adjacent cliff.

But it got dark. And it is a 45 minute walk to the bus stop. So I decided to try hitchhiking. The reason is that there are no buses from this beach to the next city and it took me about 45 minutes to walk there before. I asked a guy who was leaving, but he said he was going the other way. So I started walking anyway. The guy later passed me, but didn't give me a lift.

Later another guy did pick me up and dropped me off at the bus stop. It was really cool - like I had hyperspaced 30 minutes of space. He spoke Portugese but nothing else. Portugese and Spanish are not the same language, but I try some Spanish words, just in case they overlap.

While at the bus stop I went to buy something to drink. The lady owner - through an interpretive dance circling, jesturing and counting fingers towards the clock on the wall - told me that I had missed the last bus.

As I was over 100 km from Lisbon so I did not really want to wait and then see if I could get a taxi there. I expected that taxis might not want to do that run and/or it would be expensive.

So I started walking. A bus passed me! The dancing lady/soda vendor was wrong!

I chased the bus for awhile, hoping the bus driver would stop. He wasn't stopping so I kept running in a silly way, hoping the bus driver would think I was really crazy/desperate and that would somehow further motivate him to stop. That doesn't seem to work.

I was actually lost in the sense that I did not know where I was on a map. But there was a road sign for Lisboa so I wasn't lost in the sense that I knew which direction to go. If I knew where I was on a map, then maybe I could choose a larger town that might have later busses.

Anyway, I just kept walking on the trail to Lisboa, out of this small town and towards a forest. At this point the street lights stopped and if I continued further I would be in complete darkness.

So it was around 9. I thought I would stand near this lampost and see if someone would give me a ride to Lisbon. I figured I would wait until around 9:30 and then head back.

There weren't that many cars actually. Maybe one or two every five minutes. Some slowed down, some sped up. All went by. I have never hitchhiked before, so I wasn't sure what the best technique was to look pickupable or other techniques to pass the time.

I threw rocks to pass the time. I considered throwing rocks at cars, actually. I imagine alot of hitchhikers think about throwing rocks at cars. But this is probably a bad karma idea.

I walked around in circles too.

I threw out my thumb in some arbitrary way when I saw a car coming.

In anycase I wasn't paying much attention. Then as I was making another round in my circle dancing, I noticed that a big truck had actually stopped and was reversing!

A girl had the window half undone and asked where I was going. I said Lisbon (in English). They invited me in for the trip! All the way to Lisbon!

Turns out Jr (from Portugal) and Jessica (from France) are a camera crew and had just finished a long day filming a surfer and a fake Mauri for a cell phone commercial for an East European provider. In anycase they could speak Portugese, French and English. We spoke mostly English, because their English is better than my French.

So I got back to Lisbon! And I felt really lucky. Jr. thought it was really cool that this was the day that he found a Canadian in the forest.

Portugal Quiz

Is Portugal part of the EU?
What currency does Portugal use?
What major sports event was hosted here last year?
Is Lisbon on the Ocean?

Lisbon so far

Just got into Lisbon and I have been walking around for a couple hours.

So far it is a very very nice day, the city itself seems laid back and has wide pedestrian only paths and plaças (plazas) which makes it nice to explore.

The overnight train was ok. The bed was too narrow for me to sleep the way I normally do, so I kept getting pain in my right shoulder.

I shared the compartment with someone from China who is doing some marble business, a Portugese Ph.D student studying environmental economics and an American psych. major who is doing an exchange year in Barcelona. The Chinese guy had his baggage stolen the day before by a group of people at the train station. One guy dropped his (empty) wallet and while the Chinese guy picked it up and got thanked over and over, the other guys took his bag (with sim cards, his id card and a chinese visa card). The Portugese guy made him feel better by describing how he had his bag stolen a week before while on a train (I think): he said he got up to look at the fiesta and left his (non urgent) bag on the seat, when he got back it was gone.

going to portugal

on my way to portugal. two nights ago in casa, last night in ageciras, now in Madrid to take overnight train to lisbon.

Met some americans and a brazian/american couple who we think got sold expired ferry tickets to spain.

Madrid is much nicer than i remember. Possibly the change of season, that I know more spanish, and that it is the first wester city I have seen in a few weeks and that it is familiar.

Coming home May 13th

Not because of any big bad reason... I thought that things might end because of a big reason - say I got sick, hurt or destitute. But I'm not. I don't really have a big reason; other than to see my family, friends and city. That is the big reason.

So I am flying home May 13th from London. As I am currently in Rabat, Morocco now I will make my way up through Morocco, Spain, probably Portugal and then to London between now and then. Right now I am shocked - by how quick the decision came - and excited to return.

In Marrakesh

Kim has come and met me in Casablanca. We spent the last couple days in Marrakesh which was very cool.

The centrepiece of Marrakesh is an open plaza called Djemma el-Fina which at night is packed with thousands of people. Stalls are selling freshly squeezed orange juice, other stalls have sit down barbeques, street entertainers include dancing displays, music displays, monkeys, colourful water vendors, snake charmers, children boxers. My main image of Marrakesh is that of the smoke, the thousands of people, the bicycles, and motorized scooters somehow pushing and prying themselves through this square.

Marrakesh was very busy. I called at least 20 hotels which were all booked up. So... guess what... we ended up using a tout to find us a hotel! So touts can be useful in certain situations. The first night we were able to find a room. The second night we could not find a room so slept on the terrace of the Hotel Ali.

Sleeping on the terrace was pretty cool, some other travellers offered us their little tent shelter that they had built the night before and did not need anymore. It was mostly a blanket, strung up between chairs. I don't know if it was actually useful, but it was nice to accept the gift anyway.

Marrakesh was very busy because it is a 4 day weekend in Morrocco. The birth of Mohammed was on Thursday (Awashar Mabrooka!) and there was a free rock concert in the square on Saturday night. We tried to push our way into the concert on Saturday, but it was just impossible. It was a big mosh pit and I caught a young boy grabbing the zipper of my backpack. Kim caught a young boy grabbing her.

We are now in Fes and have been wandering around lost today. I have found the answer to the question I had before coming here... Do people in Fes wear feses?

Tomorrow we will go have a look at the tanneries.

Robbed in Casablanca

I met these two guys in the park...

Though I should say that I have been meeting alot of very sincerly friendly Moroccans lately. Yesterday I spoke with a couple University students for about an hour and a half and if I go to back to Tetuoan I will go visit one of them. On the bus I met a friendly couple of teachers who teach in a rural school who gave me their addresses to go visit them. Last night I met a couple nice guys in Casablanca who also invited me to their home.

The day before I was invited twice to people's homes in Chefchaoen.

So last night after politely declining the invitation to the guys place, I started to ask myself if maybe I am being a bit too closed. Perhaps I should open myself up a bit more and experience more people and share more experiences. What do you think? Maybe our culture is too suspicious? Maybe it is just me?

With that in mind, I met a couple guys in the park I decided to really engage more. I talked for awhile with one guy and accompanied him to a cafe down some back streets. We talked about religion, philosophy and travel. He kept calling me his brother. His philosophy seemed very down to earth and more like Buddist than what I imagine Islam is about.

When I went up to use the bathroom I felt strange about taking my backpack with me. My backpack has my passport and camera inside. I figured that if he said something I would explain that I had toilet paper in the backpack and that I might need it (they don't use tp here).

Anyway, I finished my tea and he finished his cigarette and went to pay. He came back saying that there was a problem and wanted to know if I had change for 200 dirham. I didn't - I only had 120 dirhams. He insisted that I give it to him and he would sort things out.

As we left the cafe, I still had no sight of my 120 dirhams. When I asked him about it in the street he said not to worry. When pushed a little more he said he had already spent it on hash and alcohol.

So what do you do? You are in an empty street with this guy?

Shake him down?

Brow beat him?

Call the police?

How about philosophy. I said that if he was that desperate to compromise all of his personal principles - which we had discussed for the last hour - for 120 dirhams he could take it.

So we parted ways, me with empty wallet. Him with bad karma (maybe).

Then, as I am walking down the street, his friend from the park approaches me and starts trying to sell me hash! I explain to him that his friend had just stolen all my cash, but I don't think this guy's french is very good because he then starts offering to find me some Moroccan women or even some genuine Moroccan entertainment.

I keep walking. He keeps pestering.

What do I want?

Women? Hash? What do I want?

So I say I want the Gendarme, the Surete, the Police.

He says fine! We will go find them. As we approach a building that is guarded by an Army guy - I think he is Army as he is dressed in brown while the police are in blue. we go over there and start talking to him. I explain in french, but the Army guy doesn't know french. I wasn't even sure why I was talking to this guy actually, I was still a bit in shock about the whole 120 dirham thing but I think that this guy had the gall to continue hassling me pissed me off.

So the Army guy doesn't know french, but my hash pimp is translating something to him in Arabic. The Army guy motions for us to follow him back to the entrance of the building he is guarding. As I am following him, the Army guy turns around and starts running towards me!

My hash dealer had fled behind me! He was taking off around the building running as fast as he could with only an occasional glance backwards: Running so that his feet and legs were ahead of his body. Picture that!

The Army guy then calls out four other Army guys and by now two police guys guarding the other building across the street join the chase to the park.

Ok. wait. 120 dirhams is only 12 euros. And the guy they are chasing is just a pimp/hash dealer and only a friend of the guy that took my money. And now there is an armed - really! -squad of seven guys loose in the park! I don't know what they are thinking because the only thing I know the Army guy knows for sure is that the guy fled.

So I made sure that I explained the whole situation to the police guys who did speak french and they said I was lucky that I did not have my papers stolen. They were very sincere and apologized for the whole thing. They gave me directions to the Mosque and the beach. The Army guys eventually returned to their posts.

So on the way to the Mosque...

Guess what?

I met another guy.

We start talking.

He invites me to tea at his mother's house.

What do you do? Get back on the horse? Run away like a hash dealer chased by the Moroccan army?

So I went to tea. Everything turned out ok, but this even this guy was also a bit shady. He insisted that after our visit, I not speak to any more Moroccans and that he was a Saudi by birth and that there are lots of problems with tourists here. He also did not want to go all the way to the Mosque with me because of the Tourist Police. To me he was a bit too insistent and paranoid. Almost confessional actually. Like the idea that the people most fearful of being robbed are theives.

In the end, I am happy that this because it affirms that I should trust my instincts to be cautious if I want to. What I mean is that I had been cautious, but decided to override that instict with a desire for more engagement. I think I can still get more engagement and continue to be cautious. It's not a dichotomy, though I guess in my clumsy-learning-experential way, I made it one.

Starting to understand Chefchaouen

I am starting to understand Chefchaouen today. Sure there is a touristy area, which has it's pros and cons as a visitor, but it also has a genuine souq, market area, living areas which are very accessible from the touristy area. The market area, the alley ways and call to prayers reminds me alot of the Moslem area in Jerusalem. The souq, town reminds me a bit of Hebron. Of course I have not been to that many souqs - but it is interesting that the appearance and culture spans that distance from Palestine/Israel to here.

Anyway, I bought some green peas and some oranges from the souq. 5 Oranges were about 25 cents, half a kilo of green peas cost about 35 cents. I have been having fun with the big bag of green peas... When people were offering me kif or hash today, I tell them I have some really big bag of good, high quality stuff and try to sell them a pea pod. Presumably, The Surete Nationale won't have a problem with my peas.

This morning I went for a walk in the mountains and met a few shepherds. I just missed a goat calf - if that is what you call a baby goat - being born, but did get to see the shepard (probably 14 or 15 years old) try and encourage the goatee to feed from the mother. I walked across some plowed areas which are probably the kif fields. I did not take pictures - though - because I am a bit paranoid. Ok, I took a picture of the goat. But that's it!

All of the boys play soccer here. Constantly. I think they probably get up in the morning, play soccer, go to school, play soccer at recess, come home and play some more. Every flat place in the city (and in the beaches in Assilah) gets used for soccer fields. What is kinda funny is that they also play it in the steep alleyways and ramparts of the medina - getting in the way and getting in trouble. I have no transition for this - sorry - but their balls are all flat and soft.

The passeo is also a tradition here, as it was in Assilah: Everyone goes out for a walk between 5:30 and 9 to find out what is happening in the city. According to the Lonely Planet, this tradition is a carry over/import from Spain. What is funny is I spent over a month in Spain and did not see it there... Perhaps it is one of those old fashioned rituals that gets modifed at the source (say into tapas crawls) but doesn't change in the colonies.

from Asilah to Chefchaouen

I spent yesterday in Asilah again. Walked to the beach again and met some of the people I met the day before - One fellow kissed me on the cheeks. Besides that surprise, walking to the beach is always a relaxing activity.

Asilah is in the very north east corner of Africa. I can picture myself as a little stick figure on the corner of the continent. This image is helped - in my head - by memories of the video game Heart of Africa (and Seven Cities of Gold) which I used to play on the old Commodore 64. In Heart of Africa it would occasionally zoom in and out of the pixelly versions of Africa and African villages. As I was jumping into the Atlantic ocean (and bouncing back quickly because it is cold) I could just picture my video game equivalent doing the same.

But enough obscure video game references that maybe my brothers can relate to...

Along the trail to the beach (along the Atlantic Ocean) there are little military tents spaced out about every half kilometre. At first I thought they might be for people smuggling but a couple guys I ran into told me they were looking for hash trafficers. The couple guys I ran into were Morroccan and I walked with them for awhile, speaking Spanish because one guy did not know French.

Today I spent a couple hours speaking french with a guy named Abdazizi on the bus ride from Asilah to Tetuoan. He said he made the trip alot these days and invited me to visit him in Tetuoan if I returned there. Or in Casablanca which is where his mom lives. My french wasn't good enough to figure out what he does.

In Chefchaouen they do hashish. I am not going to mention touts anymore, but I will kinda mention that I ran into 4 very friendly people who were offering me only the best accommodations, grass and hashish. According to the Lonely Planet guide, Chefchaouen is marijuana country and it is therefore difficult to rent a donkey from August to October when the 'Kif' harvest comes around.

The cafes play Led Zeppelin and Bob Marley and the medina reminds me a bit of a typical mountain tourist town (like Whistler say). So I can see why it might be a place to have a good time.

Either way, I am not really interested in hash right now. I am thinking of either treking a bit in the mountains for a couple days or moving on. I have not decided. Chefchaouen has a really positive reputation for a place to visit - but so far I would rather be closer to the ocean. Though Chefchaouen also has a reputation for people coming for one day and staying a week...

There is a river somewhere nearby... maybe I should go find it.

Asilah

I am in Asilah now and spent the day walking to Paradise Beach and back.

After my last post I thought that maybe I should not have brought up the touts. I was thinking that they might overshadow the perception of Morocco as they are pretty much the first thing I wrote about. On the other hand they are the first thing you encounter when you get here. On the other hand they are just to be expected.

Anyway while on the walk I came across a German guy and we ended up walking together. We went for tea at a small stand and a local guy started talking to us. Eventually the local guy kept following us and wanted us to go to his hotel...And wouldn't go away.

I know, I know. It is the third tout today. And I wasn't even going to bring them up anymore. Ok that is it....

Morocco is very beautiful and inexpensive. My single room in my hotel costs about 7 Euros per night. My pizza and orange juice dinner cost 3.50 euros. Though my suntan lotion cost me 15 euros! My suntan lotion cost me the same as two nights accomodation!!!! (everything is in Morocco Dirhams, but Euros are what I am used to).

I have had a bit too much sun, and I don't know if my fancy suntan lotion is working (or maybe I put it on too late) so I might hit the sack early tonight.

Back in Africa

Or back in Muslim country, or in the gateway to Africa, or just Morocco.

I am in Asilah, Morocco on the Atlantic coast. I have only been here an hour so far, but so far so good. I like how green things are near the coast. It looked like there were some cool parks and fountains in Tangier. Also the Moroccan flag is pretty cool - solid red with a big green criss-cross star in the centre.

There were touts but so far don't seem as bad as those from Egypt. One followed me for a bit when I got off the ferry, until I got to the police checkpoint. Another pair followed me from the bus to my Hostel in Asilah.

In Tarifa

I am now in Tarifa. The southern most city in Spain and closest to Morrocco. The ferry to Morrocco takes 35 minutes from here.

When I arrived to Tarifa, while I was getting my bearings, I was approached by an older/elderly lady from Italy looking for a Hostel as well. The place she found was charging 35 euros and she wanted something for around 15. I offered for her to accompany me to the hostel (like a pension which is like a hotel, but with a shared bathroom) I was looking for. Unfortunately when we got there there was only a single room or a twin room available... what is the right thing to do in this case???....

So anyway, I am now sharing a twin room with a complete stranger tonight. Should not really be a big deal, but it is a bit different than from normal shared accomodation where it is less personal because the structure is set by the youth hostal.

The Tarifa beaches are long, windy and there are about 200 kite surfers out there practicing or surfing. There are a few windsurfers (10ish) as well. On the hills there are hundreds of windmills (those white modern ones).

I did an intro to kitesurfing in Vancouver and I think it takes a while before becoming useful or safe in the water. So I don´t think I will do any here and will be heading to Morrocco soon instead.

Back in the U.K. (technically)

I am back in the U.K.!

Well I am in Gilbraltar which is a U.K. town at the bottom of this huge rock. I got here yesterday - it is my first visit to the South Coast of Spain and of course this place is English. I had heard that Spain was full of fish and chip shops etc. but that is definitely not true of Barcelona, Madrid or Granada. I saw zero fish and chip shops there.

Gilbraltar does have fish and chip shops, police dressed as bobbies and the back machines only dispense British Pounds (though I keep getting Gilbraltar pounds as change - so they must be coming from somewhere). According to my guidebook about 80 percent of the population was born here. Based on my experience, Spanish is definately the first language, but everyone seems to know English as well.

Gilbraltar is an interesting visit. I thought the city was going to be at the top of the rock. But it is actually crammed into all of the available flat land at the base of the rock. On the rock there is a wildlife refuge which is full of birds and monkeys. Apparently this is the only place for wild monkeys in Europe. The customs back and forth between here and Spain is very lax. They seem to be mostly concerned about cigarettes going into Spain as everything in Gilbraltar is duty free. The monkeys were not as exciting as I had hoped. I actually did not want them to be anywhere near me because they smelled funny. They were jumping on lots of people though and could be coaxed onto your shoulders (for a peanut).

Gilbraltar is also very green. Most Spanish hills and mountains (including what I saw of the Sierra Nevadas) is very brown and dusty. However, being on the coast and having the rock as a cloud magnet keeps everything much more lush than elsewhere in the south.

It is pretty small and self contained too. The airport landing strip crosses the roadway into the city... So what they do is close the road for the 3 flights a day that land and take off here. It is pretty strange to cross customs, then walk across an airport runway to get to the city.

After Gilbraltar I am thinking of visiting Tarifa (windsurf capital of Europe) or seeing if I have time to go up to Lisbon before heading down to Morrocco.

Living in Granada

Well I have not posted for awhile...

I have pretty much been living in Granada for the last month. I am taking Spanish lessons at a school here in town and I am learning more and more Spanish each day. That said, these (human) languages are BIG! And I have the worst memory for new words. It takes me a few times using a word in a real situation before it sticks.

I am living in a small room in a Spanish lady´s apartment. Carmen and her daughter live together here and rent out two rooms. Last week there was an American here as well. I am not really touring so much as living here... I have been to the doctor and to the dentist. I am running out of contact lenses so I might need to go to see the optomotrist. Paying the bills and going to ´work´. Though no taxes yet :)

My daily routine looks like this...
7:45AM wake up. Hopefully not hungover, or still inebriated, or without having done my homework.
8:00AM Have breakfast (desayuno) with Carmen. Always have coffee and tostadas con tomate. The tostadas con tomate is a Andalucian standard. It is grated tomato, spread on toast then drizzled with olive oil, finished with salt.
8:20 AM Take shower, make bed. If necessary do my homework.
9:00 AM Grammar class with Pepe. Technicalities of the language. Over the last few weeks we have been going through the present, past and future tenses. Regular verbs, irregular verbs. When and how to use Me Gusta vs Paracen. How to use Hacer.
10:30 AM Break. Usually check the internet or go for a coffee with the rest of the class at the local cafe. Carmen makes a very strong coffee because they normally water it down with milk - but because I don´t water down mine I cannot handle more than one per day.
11:00 Conversation class. Sometimes discuss vocabulary, sometimes play games.
12:30-2:30 School is done for the day. Usually check the internet and run some errands.
2:30-345 Comida (lunch) with Carmen. This is the big meal of the day. Vegetable, starch, meat dishes. Carmen makes a very good Comida and I am lucky to be able to have non-restaurant or ´real´ Spanish cooking. Paella, Ham, Tortillas, Eggs and Bacon, Pasta, Mushroom thing are some of the dishes I can remember.
345-530 Siesta.
530-900. Some times homework, sometimes school activities (like watching videos) etc.
900-2AM Usually ´La marcha´ or going for Tapas. Basically it is like a pub crawl with free food. Anytime you order a drink in Granada you get some free food. For example last night when ordering beers we got bagels with ham and cheese. The next round of beer came with small hamburgusas. I forget if I described tapas already, but they are a unique and important part of going out in Granada. Spanish people normally say they are going for Tapas when they mean they are going drinking. I and probably other students say we are going for drinks. And when the rounds start, the next round is triggered by a shortage of food or beer and not just beer as it happens everywhere else. Free tapas and the siesta are classical parts of Spanish culture which are still alive in Granada but less so in Madrid and Barcelona.
12, 2, 4 AM Go to bed.

Semana Santa Processions

Last week has been crazy here. Every single day from last Saturday, until yesterday there have been religious processions to celebrate the ressurection of Jesus.

Every day there was about 6 or 7 processions of 100s of people dressed up in pointy hats and cloaks (the same outfits used by the K.K.K.) holding candles the size of baseball bats, people swining incents, people carrying crosses, carrying big floats, large musical bands, some military (only once that I saw) and women dressed for and actively mourning.

The freaky thing is to see the hundreds of adults and children (the penitents or nazarones) marching down the street dressed like they are in the K.K.K. Here is an example from the local media: http://servicios.ideal.es/especiales/semanasanta/album2005/universitaria.html. They have pictures from all of the processions on all of the days at http://servicios.ideal.es/especiales/semanasanta/fotografias.html.

The processions shut the city down for the whole week. The main streets are blocked. It becomes impossible sometimes to move through the city. To walk home from my class one evening, I had to walk through and sometimes next to and along the people dressed in these outfits.

Even if you cannot see the processions, you can always here them march as the patriotic/religious music fills the city.

Siesta in Granada

In Granada, they take the siestas. Apparently in Madrid they are not doing it as much.

What this means is that the normal store hours are from 10-2 and then from 5-8 and almost always closed on Sundays and Holidays.

What this means for me is that there is little point in doing things between these hours. The stores are all shuttered, so you cannot even look in the windows during this time. You cannot even tell what the store is because everything is behind steel roll-up doors.

I have lunch, take a nap and then get up around 5. I am very used to it - I am surprised it did not take very long at all. In fact, if I miss my siesta, I feel like I am hungover.

This means that the day is long here. Or that there are two days per day. One mini day, and one bigger day that goes on until very late at night. Lots of people are out on the streets at 2AM every night.

Learning Spanish in Spain

I spent last week and will spend next week learning to speak Spanish here in Granada.

I have about 3 hours of courses a day. Last week, I would get up in the morning, have breakfast, do some homework then review and then go to class until 6 or 7 in the evening. I am not doing much else during the day as it was pretty overwhelming - especially at first.

I expected that the classes would introduce the language slowly, build a minimum vocabulary and then build from there. Instead the instructors teach grammar and vocabulary almost completly in Spanish. So alot of the time I dont know exactly what the grammar teacher is saying - but I get enough to get the general idea and also get to practice undertanding the language.

Anyway here is how to ask someone their name, how to answer, ask where he is from and how to answer...
¿Como te llamas? (my pronounciation: komo tay yamaz)
Soy Sean

¿De donde eres? (day donday airez)
Soy canadiense

More likely though you might also ask someone their information by asking "¿Y tu?"...

Often I forget what language I am speaking and try and pronounce things in french. For example instead of pronouncing "te" as "tay" I say "te". I also want to not pronounce the trailing ´s´es for some reason.

Out of Madrid...

I´m out of Madrid now. I am in Granada which is in the south of Spain. I was going to spend more time in Madrid, but I actually stopped liking it so much. This is a bit of a surprise because I had such high expectations for Madrid - but maybe those expectations are what did it in.

The city is still very cool. The best parts of it are the nightlife - which I experienced only from the periphery last Saturday night. The nightlife is not that crazy every night. I went out on Sunday and Monday and there wasn´t really much going on. I am presuming things only really get going on the typical Thursday to Saturday night weekends.

The other big thing to see in Madrid are the Art Galleries (aka as the ¨big three¨). The Prado has cool Spanish artists like Picasso, Goya, Velazquez and El Greco. The Tyssen has tons of Manet, Monet, Van Goghs, Dali and Picasso in a very comfortable (airy) setting. The Reina Sofia has Picasso´s Guernica. At the Reina Sofia, I noticed some cool art which repeatedly was by Joan Miro. Cool enough so I have added him to my list of favourites. I just did some research and it turns out he is from Barcelona... And he has a painting called Bleu II. (I did not know any of this until just now, btw) Check out this thing: http://hirshhorn.si.edu/education/animals/animals3.html Here are some prints (warning it´s a poster selling site, but at least you can get the idea)
http://www.allposters.com/gallery.asp?aid=999354&c=&search=MIRO

For me though Madrid was less cultural or exciting as Barcelona which has it´s own language, architectural style and beachfront access to the ocean. Pedro Almodovar has set most if not all? of his movies in Madrid so my cultural expecations were high. I will admit though - by not knowing Spanish (yet) my ability to experience Madrid culture was limited.

230 AM in Madrid

It´s 230 in the morning here and the streets are crowded. Not crowded with screaming drunkards, but rather a mix of people. Sure there are drukards out there (and one guy puking) but there are young people, old people and one or two families wandering around as well.

I have been wandering around trying to find a bank machine that will work with my ATM card. No luck so far and I have tried 9 different types of bank. In the meantime I´ve converted some leftover Hungarian money to Euros.

My initial impression of Madrid is that it is big. It has at least one highway through the centre of town so it reminds me of American cities (like Seattle). But has alot of squares which remind me of piazzas in Rome.

What impresses me is the energy on the street at this time in the morning. People aren´t ending their day - except me! I´m soo tired, I missed the snack cart on the plane while napping - The mix of young and old was a surprise as well. Sure most people are late teens or early twenties, but there are 50s and 60s year old up as well.