I quickly learned that using my Eurorail pass to get to Madrid would pretty much be an impossibility. (For future reference, travelers: buy a global Eurorail if you are planning on taking an extensive Euro-trip, not if you are studying abroad in one place for a few months. Although I don't regret buying one, and I definitely enjoyed traveling by train, I didn't get my money's worth because I purchased a GLOBAL pass for all of Europe which is really only practical if you're going from place to place, i.e. Portugal to Spain, then Spain to France, France to Italy or Switzerland, and so on and so forth. I pretty much stayed confined to one area with my train travel-the furthest I went by train was Paris-because it's not exactly easy to get from Florence to, say, Amsterdam by train and back in a weekend and have ANY time there).
And by "impossibility" I really mean it was going to involve an insane amount of train switching, amounting up to over 22 hours. NO, GRAZIE. In the week leading up to the concert I questioned whether the travel expenses would be worth it for only a very short time in Madrid, especially when I had such limited time left in Italy. But of course live music is always worth it, and I knew it'd be an adventure.
SOOO my friend Lauren and I decided we were up for going despite limited funds and limited time in Spain. We were unable to travel together, though, because she was on a class field trip to Milan to see The Last Supper. So I was about to embark on a somewhat complicated and very indirect route solo. That morning I had to take a train from Florence to Turin to fly out of Turin. When I arrived at the Turin train station, I had to use my limited Italian skills to find out where the nearest bus/airport shuttle was because I wasn't about to fork over 35 euro for a cab to the airport that was a good 45 minutes away (thank you RyanAir.) I wandered around Turin, unsure of where I was really going and whether I'd actually understood the directions. On my way to the fermata dell'autobus I had to stop at an Internet cafe and print off my boarding pass. I finally found a bar where I could purchase a bus ticket; I boarded the super-crowded bus and was airport bound. I flew to Madrid and after landing, despite YEARS of Spanish study and placing into 300-level language classes freshman year, ALL I could summon after spending so much energy on learning Italian was ¿Hablas ingles? It was a bit disheartening and made me even more determined to keep up my Italian when I return home. It blows my mind how people like my Early Renaissance Art professor are able to speak NINE (NINE!!!!!!!) languages FLUENTLY when I can barely hold two in my head!!
After many twists and turns inside the airport (and walking in more than one circle, I think), I finally made it to the metro and was able to find the way to my hostel all by myself pretty easily. I have to say that Madrid's metro was the most impressive and efficient one I've ever seen. When I saw Alexis in Paris earlier in the semester, she was raving ridiculously about the wonders of underground transit in Madrid, and to be honest, I wanted to laugh (sorry Alexis); I'd never seen someone praise the subway system with such enthusiasm. But when I arrived in Madrid I quickly realized what all the fuss was about. New York, Rome, Paris, Vienna, London-none of the underground systems there are as efficient and clean as the Madrid metro. As this ad says, "The Metro that all want to have lives in Madrid." (I'm pretty sure that's what it says. As I mentioned, after this weekend I realized just how ridiculously rusty my Spanish skills are. Thankfully I can still SORT OF read it, though I apparently can't speak a word):
I have to admit I was molto orgogliosa of myself and the role I played as Little Miss Self-Reliant Navigator. One thing's for sure: after this semester I will never, ever, ever again be intimidated when traveling/driving within the U.S. The fact that I've ever been nervous about getting lost is literally laughable to me now. Dear God, it's ridiculous to even think that I could possibly be nervous when I AM A NATIVE ENGLISH SPEAKER!! And I'm a decent judge of the strangers I should and shouldn't talk to/ask for directions. AND I always have a cell phone readily available. But this semester I have ridden on an assortment of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles without a.) having any idea what anyone around me is saying b.) having a phone or internet access or any way of contacting important people c.) having any money apart from the bare minimum. Point being? Hey, wow, I can do things. I can rely on myself. My confidence has received almost daily booster shots while abroad.
Madrid was absolutely amazing and made me reconsider the definition of the word "vibrant." I don't know if I've ever been in a city whose energy and liveliness is SO palpable. You could just feel it in the air. I guess NYC is a lot like that, but it's a different kind of energy you can feel there-it's ambition, it's pursuit, it's American. If Madrid could talk...well, I don't think it would; I think it'd be too busy dancing or something. I'm not articulating this well, sorry. I have to admit our hostel looked a bit like an opportune filming location for a murder scene. However, the hostel was in a prime location within a few blocks of the Prado, our first destination on Saturday morning. We had very limited time in the Prado, which was lame, but all the more reason to come back, right? I was able to see plenty of masterworks I've studied. Obviously, seeing the famous Spanish works for which the museum is known was a highlight. I just stood and stared at Las Meninas for at least 15 minutes. It was HUGE! However, I think I might have been even more drawn in by Velazquez's The Drinkers. And though seeing these Spanish masterpieces was certainly a definitively "Madrid" experience, I was really excited to discover that the museum housed several Northern European paintings I never knew were there; two of my favorites, in fact-Hieronymous Bosch's The Garden of Earthly Delights and Rogier Van Der Weyden's altarpiece depicting the Deposition. Standing in front of the Bosch work allowed me to notice tons of details and ridiculous characters I'd never seen before. Lauren and I were talking about how difficult it was for us to believe that someone was subversive enough to paint this in 1500. The characters and scenarios within the work look almost like Salvador Dali meets soft porn. And as for the Van der Weyden altarpiece, this was one of the most stunning works of art I've ever seen; I was almost taken aback at how much it moved me. The palette is just so striking, and I'd heard professors say before that the figures seem to almost pop out at you when you stand in front of it (due mostly to its shallow space), but I realized, looking at it, just how true this is. The emotion in the piece is palpable. It took a lot for me to walk away from it!
I have to admit, the entire time I was at the Prado I kept flashing back to Mrs. Hester's class and those fine, fine episodes of Destinos. For those unfortunate non-Tupelo folks who are unfamiliar with this beautiful series: Destinos is a soap opera (of sorts) designed to teach Spanish, and it is pretty much the basis of the Spanish curriculum at Tupelo High. We'd watch an episode every week or so and then for that week, our readings, vocabulary, assigned writings, and whatnot would somehow be related to this episode and the cultural knowledge it imparted. Destinos followed the triumphs and travails of Raquel Rodriguez, a shoulder-pad-wearing, huge-'80s-computer-using lawyer based in Los Angeles who was sent out by a Very Sick Old Man named Don Fernando to uncover the story of Rosario, his long-lost love. I barely remember any of the details now, but the combination of the slow Spanish speaking, the ridiculous score and theme music, the heinous '80s outfits, and the colorful cast of characters made high school Spanish so much fun. Our classes always bonded while making fun of Jorge the mujeriego (I remember that word: womanizer) or the sordid relationship between Raquel and Arturo and the awkward affectionate scenes they acted out (anyone remember the 'Vegetable Faces?') Anyway, I'm getting way off track. There is one particular episode where some characters make a trip to the Prado, and the "hidden lesson" in the episode is all about Velazquez, Goya, El Greco, etc. SO naturally as I was wandering the Prado I kept expecting Raquel's left shoulder pad to bump into me as I was gazing intently at a painting. But sadly, this did not occur.
After a morning at the Prado, Lauren and I met up with Alexis. Making this happen ended up being somewhat difficult and we had to meet her on the metro stop nearest her house. However, seeing her was SO fun and refreshing. It was fantastic to be able to hang out with a Sewanee bestie, even if only for a short day. Alexis was a fantastic tour guide. She took us to a DELICIOUS place called Casa Mingo for lunch, where we ate AMAZING family-style chicken and croquettas and gulped down Coca Cola Light (it's starting to taste less like cat pee to me, finally, but I have to admit I'm still pumped to drink DC in a few short days). As she ordered for the table, I felt like a proud mama. Her accent was phenomenal, and to an untrained ear like mine she sounded like a native. Alexis, if you're reading this, you're definitely an inspiration for me to keep going with Italian! Throughout the whole day her Spanish-speaking self got us around the city and I was beaming with pride thinking of my friends all across the world right now and all they've learned and experienced. So cool!
Since we had only a few hours before the concert, Alexis just gave us a great walking tour of the city centre. We walked through Puerta del Sol and Plaza Mayor, the main square of Madrid where burnings and hangings where held in the presence of the king and his court during the Spanish Inquisition. Yeesh. Alexis also took us through a super lively and dynamic indoor market that reminded me a lot of Mercato Centrale in the San Lorenzo area of Florence, but with Spanish flair, obviously. A seafood vendor was selling the largest and creepiest looking fish I have ever seen in my life; it looked posed and ready to jump out and kill me at any moment. The thing literally looked like it could swallow me, Jonah-style. Later we went to get churros at a famous place called Chocolateria San Gines, a multilevel building buzzing with activity, Spaniards and (a few) tourists crowding around the counters, anxious to sample the hot chocolate with churros. When it comes to chocolate, these Spaniards don't mess around. It is dark, rich, and delicious. I dipped churro after churro in the chocolate and when I'd polished off enough fried batter I shamelessly spooned up the chocolate by itself, watching Alexis and Lauren with pity, who both seem to actually pay attention to when they're becoming full. Haha... "Full." That word has no meaning in my vocabulary. The churro place is open until 7 a.m., which is definitely reflective of Madrid's nightlife and its vivaciousness on into the wee hours.
Eventually we parted ways because Alexis didn't have tickets to the concert, and Lauren and I found Palacio de los Deportes just in time. The Arcade Fire was absolutely INCREDIBLE!!! And yes, I'm well aware that they would have been good anywhere, but half of what made this show so ridiculously good was the crowd. Spaniards have spoiled me for life now. They know how to attend a concert. The crowd was out of control, but not obnoxiously. Everyone was just so into it. No joke, I was yelping and squealing and tearing up during "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)." At one point Win Butler said into the mic that playing for Spain was playing for "the best @#^&!ing audience in the world." Now, yes, I'm well aware that musicians will say this to most any city they play in, but for once, I actually agreed. Normally I'm a big fan of intimate small-venue concerts, but this was one exception. Please check out the below video for evidence as to why it was so amazing:
After the concert I met up with Alexis again, this time accompanied by her IES best friend Kaitlyn. We went to Popolart, a small jazz club right near my hostel and ordered mojitos. This particular mojito would definitely be on the list of prettier drinks I've had, hahaha. People in Sewanee are not too big on beverage presentation. The closest thing you can get to "picturesque" is a pitcher of PBR at Shenanigans or communion wine in All Saints'. Not kidding. But I guess part of the reason this mojito was so pretty was because it cost 7 euro, aka about 3 hours of work at Stirling's.
We had to part ways pretty quickly because I had to catch a 3:25 a.m. shuttle to the airport in a van offered by my hostel (ridiculous, I know, but I wasn't about to pay for a cab, and my flight out was at 6 a.m. I know, I'm crazy). Before I knew it I was on the plane to Milan, where I'd catch a train back to Florence and sleep for the rest of the day.
For the first few minutes on the plane I had a row to myself, but eventually an Italian woman and her son Stefano scooted in. The details are a little hazy since it was barely 5:30 a.m. and I had not really slept in days, but I remember that Stefano was crying and from what I gathered from the woman's Italian words, he did not want to sit by me. He was making a scene so it was pretty embarrassing, and though I definitely wasn't looking my best at that moment, I didn't think I looked particulary scary or anything. I looked at him and volunteered, "Sono gentile," but he continued to wail. His mom apologized fervently and kept insisting that he was only tired.
Anyway, it's a good thing that this kid was crying. It kind of sucks that apparently I must look like a monster, but it's a good thing because it served as the basis for a great "conversation" (or, rather, an opportunity to practice speaking Italian) with this very kind lady. She asked me all about my studies in Florence and what I'd been doing in Madrid over the weekend. I was totally shocked that I was able to (sort of) form sentences in Italian at that ungodly hour, usually a time when I can't even speak coherent English. We bonded over the in-flight crew's terrible tendency to constantly make too-loud announcements, a shared love for Italian trains despite their flaws, our desire to learn each other's language, and the freezing temperature of the plane. Stefano this whole time was sleeping soundly in his seat, leaning his head on Mama Bear's shoulder. Too cute. When he woke up he was much kinder, and I'd prefer to think that he was just tired all along (no evil jokes, please).
The weekend was fantastic and well worth it, and now I am home in Florence, trying to savor these last few days I have here. :( It's very sad!!! But when I leave Italy, it won't be for too long. Count on it. Actual FLORENCE news and adventures and updates will follow soon.
Buona notte, belli amici,
Mary
P.S. Couldn't resist. Here is another Arcade Fire video-this is my favorite song of theirs and one of my favorite songs of all time, and I thought you all deserved to see the song that made me cry and squeal and generally act like a lunatic undergoing either an epileptic seizure or an ecstatic out-of-body experience. To borrow a phrase from the song itself, I do believe this is their true "golden hymn." Ciao kiddos.
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