Football, Sightseeing and Racism

you can almost feel the current flowing
you can almost see the ciruits blowing

-Rush

Sabado, Mayo 19

For the first time since i got here over 4 months ago, i finally got out of Madrid. The planned trip to Cadiz with Stuart in the south got rained out. The trip to Cordoba with Patricia went up in smoke. We tried to go to the mountains but it was over a two hour bus ride to go 50 km and it didn't even drop us that close to where we wanted to go. But alack, my fourth attempt was successful.

I went to Toledo today with Kristen and Sydney ( her family in from Waco, Texas) and it was just awesome. It's such an old city - it's amazing. The entire city is walled in, or was, in case they were under attack. Knights in armor on horseback, we're talking here. Amazing.
And the little back streets go on forever, each one completely unique. Cobblestone, balconies, beautiful stuff. I'll have to go back soon. It's only an hour by bus, a really comfortable one at that, for like 8 Euro.

Toledo has a beautiful river to. The city provides some great views as it's a higher elevation than Madrid.

I also got to see the end of the FA Cup Final between Chelsea and Manchester United. The little bar was packed and Chelsa won at the end of extra time, 1-0, and a beautiful goal by Drogba. Great fun! I fucking hate Manchester United. So it was a tremendous day.

And what else?

Spain is still batshit. Great fun but almost impossible to understand. Or rather, hard to believe how strange they are.

The food starting to wear on me a bit. You can't buy a beef steak anywhere here. They seem to have NO beef. And the fish isn't great. Okay but not great. I hear the fish down south is delicious. Maybe I will still look into heading south to Sevilla or Malaga. It was nice to be in a traditional Spanish City - what you think of when you picture spain. Madrid is big and varied.

I 've lived outsdie of Metropolis' my whole life (NYC, Kingtson Jamaica, DC) but never actually in one. The air was so fresh in Toldeo. It was nice.

Toledo is famous for its steel, so i got a sweet pocket knife, something i needed. Always good to have a knife handy, always.

So it's 1 AM, Sunday now. A rare Saturday in bed before 4 AM. I think we're going to watch a Rugby match tomorrow, a team Stuart wants to join next year, so that should be fun.
And then the big Atletico Madrid - Barcelona game. The bars will be packed, more because Real Madrid is tied with Barcelona for the league title with like 4 games left and their fans will be out. It's the nationally televised game at 21:00.

I hear thunder. It was over 30 degrees Celsius today. The sun was intense. This is going to be the hottest summer I've had to deal with since Jamaica. So it goes.

Stuart came in to say that i should unplug my laptop. The we went out to the "greenhouse", off the kitchen, to watch the lightning. Flashes and streaks, lightning fingering as it hits from about three miles away. It was unbelievable. I love lightning storms.

Domingo Noche Mayo, 20

I never meant to be so bad to you

-Asia

Atletico got smoked by Barcelona. It was like a shooting gallery; 5-0 when i left. Ooch.

There are times when I feel like Madrid is a big spoiled chicken leg, rotting on the bone. They're so dense and so racist.

I walked into a new bar around the corner: Hobbes. Been there maybe four times in the month or so it's been open. It's crowded because Real Madrid is the 17:00 game against Recreativo (Real won 3-2 in the 90th minute after blowing a 2-0 lead!). You walk in and the bar is at the back, with bar stool seating against the wall to the left and the right of the bar. There was room to the right (a la derecha) where the owner, Luis, usually hangs out. I walk in, put my paragauas (umbrella) under the stool and notice this really thick dude, but not so tall, staring at me. He says something utterly unitelligable and extends his left hand. I extend my right. He grunts and shakes his left hand around. I turn my right hand upside down to shake his left. More grunts and a shaking of the left hand. I finally extned my own left. He takes it, and while looking at me, proceeds to squeeze at pressure points like he's going to break it.

"What the hell?" I say, and pull it out of his grasp.

"No, no, no," he says, and starts flaps his right mit. I take it with my right and he tries to crush it again, so I pull it away and say "Enough of you."

He's staring at me the whole 3 minutes I'm watching the game. He's piss drunk, and may just be scumbag enough to hit me when I'm not looking. So, I look at him straight on. He rears back and throws a mock punch and mumbles. Nobody at the bar says anything. Obviously they couldn't couldn't give a shit about building a clientelle as a new bar.

"Obviously I'm not welcome here," I say in English and pick up my umbrella. "...You racist bastard." Then I look him in the eye and say "Fuck you" and walk out. Even Spanish speakers understand that.

I had my Washington Capitals waterproof on and a Nats hat, so it was kind of obvious I was American. They are so racist here it's unbelievable. They REALLY think Spain is the best country in the world. It's the new Second World: lazy fucking capitalism- guzling down the previous years' wine while today's grapes die on the vine. This country is so fucked in 40 years.

Oh well, como Espana.

So I went to this place I like, the Remonta Bar. They're starting to know me there from going every Sunday. The bartender is a Dominican and a good guy. I ordered a copa de rioja and he asked "Tu quieres una hamburguesa con los todos (hamburger with everything)," which is what i got the last time.

"Si, gracias."

It's nice to feel like they give a goddamn you are patronizing their restaurant.
But the workers don't own the restaurant so they could care. Kristen and I waited 20 minutes last night in a pizza place before they even took our drink order. Such is Spain.

I need to go South, methinks. I need sea and surf.

I later saw the drunkard who liked to hold my hand, staggering the middle of Calle Bravo Murillo, trying to hail a cab. He almost got clipped by a car. He noticed me and turned to look at me. "Fuck you!" I yelled. He staggered back into the street. Nice life.

WHO'S YOUR DADDY?

Still trying to discover who Annie's dad is. This entry comes from Girlyman202@biteme.com:

Dear El Dude,

She was in California, right? I therefore think the father must be the Governator; Arnold Schwartzenegger.

Thanks Girlyman202. We'll look into it.