I must say, stepping off the plane in a foreign country, alone, is rather daunting. However, boarding this said plane, is even more terrifying. While the rest of my group flew in to the Madrid airport from Atlanta, Georgia, I made the decision to embrace my last few days of winter break (and postpone packing as long as I could, of course) at home in Austin, Texas before heading to Spain for the next five months. The first leg of the trip to New York was a breeze, I had a great book (Kill Shot by Vince Flynn—great way to start a trip abroad), a window seat and a fully charged iPod. The second flight of the trip, however, was slightly less glamorous. This completely full flight was actually composed of almost all study abroad groups— college students from Ohio, Massachusetts and even a group from Pennsylvania. While the majority of these kids had the fortune of sitting together and chatting about the exciting adventures to come, I had the misfortune of the seat everyone fears on a long, six and a half hour flight, the middle seat. To my right I had the typical foreign elder lady speaking to me in a language I couldn't dream of understanding, and to my left I had a long-bearded man who used my shoulder as his pillow to drool on. It took only moments for me to realize it would be a long flight, especially since I realized I had left my iPod on the last flight.
We landed in Madrid the following morning and after collecting my bags and spending 45 minutes or so attempting to make my way to the "old" section of the airport, I met up with my group from UGA and we were on our way to the heart of Madrid. Our hotel,
Tryp Gran Via, could not have been located in a better part of the city—just minutes from la Puerta del Sol, great restaurants and even better nightlife. It was also here that we had our first experience with El Corte Ingles, a seven-story department store with anything and everything you could ever imagine. Also located just steps from our hotel was the largest and nicest McDonald's I've ever encountered, though at night it is more famous for "las prostitutas" who "greet" customers and tourists starting at 11 p.m. Did I mention the nightlife was incredible in Madrid? Promoters line the plazas trying to get you into their bar, "pub" or discoteca offering anything from "una chupita" (a shot), to a bottle of champagne in exchange for your presence—now that is something I could get used to. Coming from a school like UGA, we figured we would hold our own when it comes to Spanish nightlife, but man were we wrong. The saying here is, "En España, volver antes de las 3 no es salir. Es ir a cenar," and it could not be more true. Here, the party does not start until 3 or 4 in the morning and it continues until breakfast around 7 or 8 a.m., es loca.
Although we were only in Madrid for three days, we had intense walking tours all over the city, averaging about 11 miles per day. We saw the Plaza del Torros, Templo de Debod, Estadio Santiago Bernabeu, Museo del Prado, Museo Reina Sofía, Plaza Mayor and the Palacio Real de Madrid, just to name a few. In general, Madrid reminds me a lot of Chicago or New York, a bustling city filled with history and excitement, a city I would love to return to in the future.
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| Plaza del Torros |
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| Plaza Mayor |
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| Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, Cervantes Monument |
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| Ayuntamiento de Madrid |
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| Our group in La Plaza Mayor |
