Made it to Madrid…

Alright, so after 30 straight hours of traveling (not the fun kind–LAX to London, London to Madrid) Lindsay and I made it to our hostel in Madrid at 2 am where we promptly showered and fell asleep and probably woke up the two Japanese girls in the bunks beneath us with our annoying zipping and crinkling shopping bags. Yes, we are those inconsiderate American travelers. Go us!

The next two days we will rest and prepare for our journey through Spain toward Morocco, because let’s face it, Spain is great and all, but we’re really on our way to North Africa and the Middle East. That’s where we’re heading, and that’s where our hearts lie. We hope. At this point we don’t know what to expect… we’re just hoping this trip doesn’t blow up in our faces.

Right… positive thinking…positive thinking. This trip can’t go nearly as bad as my last one!

First day in Madrid we got in some museums, parks, markets, shopping, and, let’s face it, as much food as possible. So the things we saw: Museo Nacional Reina Sofia, the Real Jardín Botánico, and El Parque Del Buen Retiro (where we got a nice rest, just like the name says!).

Stopping to take a "break" in the park. He has the bladder the size of a pea!
Stopping to take a "break" in the park. He has the bladder the size of a pea!

In search of lunch, we wandered for what seemed like ages (I admit freely that when I’m hungry I am major cranky pants), since Lindsay refused to go into any place that had “Jamon” on the sign… which just happened to be almost every dining establishment in Madrid!

Lindsay's Greatest Nemesis: The Ham Museum
Lindsay's Greatest Nemesis: The Ham Museum

Eventually we ended in some alternative restaurant where the lovely waitress ended up making animal noises and gestures to describe what was on the menu, because I could not for the life of me understand her Spanish. What kind of Spanish do they speak in Spain?! Cause I don’t get it! In the end, we gorged ourselves on yummy fish (I did, anyway) and potatoes and mushrooms, and deliciousness. So delicious, that it put us into a near catatonic state that required we go back to the hostel and sleep until 8p.

Yes, we’re awesome like that.

And what did we do once we were lucid again? Why, we went in search of more food! ¡Claro! To be more specific, we went in search of dessert. Dessert, which would come to be the saving grace on this trip for two girls who normally don’t order dessert at home.

After turning down the front desk guy’s invitation to a sangria party and pub crawl (C’mon, give us a break, 30 hours of straight travel. 30!!), we consulted our handy Lonely Planet and then headed out for the city’s best churro shop. How was it? Heavenly. Sitting at a little metal table in the intimate alley outside the shop, under a stone archway echoing with rain, we delighted in the fresh, crisp, warm churro pastriness dipped in melted dark chocolate. It would have been so romantic… And Dwight Schrute bobble-head, who tried to steal our friggin churros. Bastard!

Dwight with evidence smeared across his guilty mug.
Dwight with evidence smeared across his guilty mug.

And then… back to sleep, cause the things we’re best at: eating, sleeping, and making ourselves crack up.

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