The Return to Madrid

The bus leaves Mazarron late, about 4:30 so it doesn't get into to Madrid until about 10:30. Our bus got in at 11, because our driver for the trip back was an easy, care-free fellow.

On the way down, our driver considered pressing the brake petal a personal affront to his sacred honor, and we made better time. It was also fun watching him yell, gesture and honk at other drivers, but I digress.

On the way back to Madrid, our driver popped in a couple of movies and if you're stuck on a bus for 6 hours, the only thing that could possibly be better than a Van Damme movie is a Van Damme movie that's dubbed entirely into Spanish.


About halfway through the trip, the bus pulls over at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, and the driver announces "triente minutos" which translates roughly into "from now until whenever I feel like going again."

So you race from the bus to the bathrooms, grab a ham and baguette sandwich, race outside and sit on the steps, munching your lunch and staring at your bus so it doesn't leave without you. Once the driver has finished his smoke, he pops on the bus, all the people lurking on the steps file on and he leaves. There's no checking to see if everyone made it or not. If there's no one else climbing aboard it's time to go!

Anyway, before we left Mazarron, my Aunt had fixed us an enormous farewell lunch, plus a hefty meal for the bus. We weren't hungry at the rest stop, so we just strolled around in front of the bus, enjoying the feeling of standing.

About an hour or so later though, we started getting munchies, but were unsure if eating was allowed on the bus. We hadn't seen anyone else eating, so we decided to just use our super sneaky secret-agent ninja skills while we ate so we wouldn't get in trouble.

Thus began the infamous "Banana Incident."

"Want a banana?" BSA whispered.
"Sure." I answered.
She handed me the fruit, I cracked the top and began eating, smirking as BSA struggled to open hers while keeping it out of eye view.
"Oh sure, I get the defective one!" she said.
I may have laughed. "Ha ha" may have been my exact words. I don't remember, because as I went to unpeel the last third of my banana, the slippery sucker popped right out of the peel, arching high into the air like a little yellow dolphin as it flew behind me.

Fortunately, it landed in the aisle about three rows behind us and not in somebody's lap. The banana flopped around a bit and then proceeded to bounce madly down the aisle towards the driver. I tried to hop out and grab it, but I couldn't get the arm rest down, so I lunged over the top of the rest, bending double to grab the banana as it passed my seat. I managed to get the banana, but when I lunged my foot had connected with the little garbage can attached to the bottom of the seat in front of me, kicking it off it's supports with a loud crack.

I dumped the banana in a bag and fixed the garbage can, studiously ignoring all the disgusted glares from my fellow passengers.

Except the old lady across from me. She was laughing her head off.

Mazarron Report

I thought this would be easier if I broke it into parts. Monday morning we hopped the metro to the bus station, then caught the 9:00 bus to Puerto de Mazarron. Its a 7 hour bus ride, but we had seats right up front, and it was nice to see the Spanish countryside.

Occasionally, they have these enormous cut outs of black bulls just posted at random throughout the country. My Aunt said they used to be part of a marketing campaign, and then Spain asked the company to leave them up as they adopted the bull for their symbol.

This is Mazarron:



And our beach house:



Once in Mazarron, we followed this grueling schedule:

11-Noon: Wake up, have breakfast

12-4:30ish: Hang out at the little beach

5: Lunch, following the Spanish tradition, lunch was big. My Aunt always made us traditional Spanish food, such as tortilla, pasta and chorizo, salad with oil and vinegar dressing, gazpacho, tomato and garlic sauce spread on toasted bread, flan for dessert. Hmmmmm.

6-8: Nap

8-10: Wander down to town, get ice cream, or waffles, nice thick Belgian waffles with chocolate sauce, whip cream, and then more chocolate sauce poured on top, or even just a drink of Horchata.

10: Light dinner

10-2: Read

2: Go to bed

Here's the little beach at sunset:



While at the beach we got to meet all of the neighbors, which of course led to kiss-kissing.

Interesting note: Kiss-kissing in ocean waves takes timing and coordination skills that I apparently, do not have.

Wednesday we went to a neighborhood costume party. Unfortunately, neither BSA or I had thought to pack a costume. Everyone else was dressed up though. There was plenty of food and drink. We sat a table with a French couple, and then were joined by 5 party goers, only two of which could speak any English. It was still fun. There was an older lady, late 50s, who was dressed like a Roman Empress. She was a character. I wish I could speak Spanish, because whatever she talked about sounded hilarious.

She would start speaking, gesturing and going off, everyone would be cracking up, including us even though we didn't understand her, and then when the laughter died and there was a pause, she'd lift up her class and say "Ching Ching" which is the Spanish equivalent of "Cheers." So it went like this.

Lady: Ching Ching! Everyone clicks glasses and says ching ching
Lady: Starts talking with expansive gestures and everyone starts laughing.
Everyone stops laughing, sigh, quiet moment.
Lady: Ching Ching!!
Repeat...

After dinner our host brought out a guitar, and many of the partiers gathered and sang Spanish folk songs, including my Grandpa, who I didn't know could sing.

Then there was dancing, and an awards ceremony for best costume.

We left at 3(am) but the party went till 5. It was awesome.

While shopping in Mazarron I bought a red leather wallet with black tooled flowers. Less than a week later, a pickpocket stole it out of my backpack as I walked through Madrid. I call this, The Spanish Wallet Life Cycle.
Fortunately, I didn't keep my passport in it, otherwise I'd have a post titled "Corbeau's Adventure at the American Embassy."

Brief Spain Report

1.There is a shocking lack of escalators in the Madrid metro. This may not seem like a big deal, but if you're hauling two weeks worth of luggage it's HUGE.

2. Spain is trying to bring back the mullet. They must be stopped.

3. Spanish food is still tasty. Some of it is still weird. I didn't have any purple noodles, but I did see melon (looking like a honeydew) with ham cold cuts draped over it.

4. If you're going to be traveling by train, buy your tickets in advance. Otherwise you get to experience the Spanish equivalent of the VA DMV.

More on Bullfighting

After we saw our fight on Sunday, we went down to Mazarron to visit my family, and we learned more about bullfighting Spanish style.

When the bullfighter stands really close to the bull, and gets him to put his head down, and follow the cape, you yell "Ole!"

If the bullfighter throws his spears and misses, everyone booes, and people start yelling out things from the audience. This would be a good time to know Spanish.

When the bullfighter gets to the part where he has to stick a sword down into the bull's back, they have to get the bull to put his feet together and lower his head. This opens a space between the bull's shoulder blades on the matador can stab him.
If he messes up, he has to keep trying until he gets the sword to stick in. The more tries, the more rowdy the audience gets. During our fight, only one of the bullfighters was able to get the entire sword in.

One of Spain's hottest bullfighters is named Cayetano. He's my new boyfriend.



I have a plan based on the Underwear Gnomes from South Park, with the requisite Top Secret Step Two.

1. Learn Spanish
2. ????????????
3. Marriage!

Here's a video of my boyfriend at work.



And here's a video of bullfights in general. They're gory, so consider yourself warned.

Hola!

the blogger menu is all in Spanish. bizzare.

Im writing this as i sweat here in beautiful mazarron, Spain. this spanish keyboard is totally wierd, so you´ll forgive me if i forgo caps.

I came out here with BSA to visit my family and see the sights. we had a nice flight. pretty much slept most of the way here. sunday we were in Madrid, and totally got ripped off by a taxi driver. unfortunately, niether of us speak enough spanish to point out that the meter said one thing, and handling our baggage and adding tip for our convience still shouldn´t be 8 euros, but oh well.

i was adjusting to the jet lag pretty well, until i took a nap today after the beach. i went down and five, and woke up at 9. crap!

sunday we walked around retiro park, which was very nice, and saw a pair of horse cops. one of the horses loved to prance, and seemed to determine to show off how he pretty he was, so we snapped pictures. the cops seemed to like it though, they stopped and posed.

we went to a bull fight sunday night. the plaza des toros is gorgeous. an amazing brick and cement colleuseum. we saw 4 main matadors each fight two bulls. it was pretty intense. i´m not sure at what point we started cheering for the bulls, but my favorite was when a bull made the blond matador run for the fence, and BSA yelled out ´"take that pretty boy!"

he was very pretty. he looked like dr chase from House. he also loved to prance and jump, and looked very good whenever he had to leap the fence.

i need a boyfriend. ;)

there was one bull that was amazing. he was determined to take out the guy on the horse, that he kept getting speared over and over, and they spear hit an artery. the blood gushed up all over the horse, and i said "good night that´s an arterial spurt!" we thought for sure that he would bleed out before the matador go to finish the fight, and they´d send a junior matador to knife him Ç(this happened to the first bull, who gave up early on) but the bull was amazing. he simply would not quit, even though he was bleeding heavily. even after he had the six spears and the sword in him, he still went after a junior matador and managed to get his cape.

after the senior matador struck the killing blow, and the mules came to pull the body away, everyone in the stands stood up. it was just an amazing show of endurance.

right now i´m at the beach, spending the days in my swimsuit and trying not to burn. i even went snorkeling today. we´re going to a costume party tomorrow, with some of the families here in mazarron. i don´t have a costume, i recommended that BSA and i go as american tourists.