¡Yo estoy Aquí! Segundo Parte

So I had three hours to myself in Madrid. I gathered my courage, and walked... well I didn´t know where I was going, so I decided to head left. I walked through the Neighborhood, which I learned is called Chueca.

Chueca is one of the rainbow districts in Madrid, so it is appropriate that I ended up there! I explored all the side streets, taking note of such landmarks as "Leather Bar" and the various sex shops that I saw. Nicely enough, these became the ways I found my way back to the hostel. I also noticed how much Chueca looks like the French Quarter.

I kept going in that direction until I found myself at Gran Via. Oh. My. GOD. If the airport and Metro debacle, with a side of getting lost in Chueca, didn´t make this real: standing in the middle of Gran Via certainly did! 
 There it was: the street I have only read about in books, and seen in videos. I was standing in the freaking middle of it. And I ... needed ...to... MOVE! What the hell am doing just standing in the middle of the block, when people are trying to walk!? ACH! Bad American, Bad bad BAD! I later realized that I didn't even get a picture of the first time I saw Gran Via. Perhaps I was too busy staring at the landmark that would later become known to me as 'Fancy-pants McDonalds' (They fancy, y'all!).
 I swear, every time I see a fast food joint in Madrid, I'm like:

So anyway: I stopped being a jerk and crossed the street, gawking at Fancy-pants McDonalds and the big red tree. Suddenly there was a woman in front of me, with her hand out. She was talking to me, but she spoke so fast I couldn´t make out what she was saying. It was like: "A wild native speaker appears! She uses 'Confound them with Castellano'... It is super effective!
I tried to speak: "Please slow down, I don´t understand. ¡Ummm... No entiendo...Menos(???) Rapido, por favor!" She answered me with what sounded like: "¡hnnfjrñsthuesañhntgrjusñtgputahofñeahfñearfholu!"

I walked away, then stopped... Heeeeey. I know one of those words... Let´s see: "¡hnnfjrñsthuesañhntgrjusñtputaghofñeahfñearfholu!" WAITAMINUTE! I stood there for a second and said: "Wait, did that bitch just call me a bitch?" A man walking by must have understood me, because he laughed and patted me on the back saying: "Sí, Sí." As in: "Why yes, My American friend. That bitch did, in fact, just call you a bitch." 3.5 hours in Madrid. NICE.

I wandered around past Gran Via and ended up in Puerta del Sol, which is now apparently called 'Vodaphone Sol'. Hmmmm... that wasn't in my tourist guide. Eh, whatever, they had a gold tree. Look at it, it's pretty. Oooooooh. See? I quickly learned that to everyone it's just Sol, which works fine for me. I took pictures, because I have no problem being That Guy.

I wandered into the Orange store to get my Spanish SIM card, and luckily they had someone who spoke English. I have no problem testing out my Castellano, but I was tired as hell and just wanted to get my phone turned on. The woman there said she spoke English, but kept getting stumped on some things:
"When do you leave Spain?"
"I leave in July."
"Eh?"
"July. I leave in July"
"I'm sorry?"
"Julio."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand you."
"It's the month after June..?"
"Umm... "
I resisted the urge to shake her and scream "JULY, BITCH! JULYYYYY!!", because:  I am a LADY.
It didn't click until I physically wrote: 07/2014. My head... it hurts me so.

After I got my SIM card sorted out, took an Ibuprofen, put my phone away, and just walked. Now, in my mind I went the same direction that I came from. In my mind, that is. In reality, I got horribly lost, and had to turn to my trusty Map of Madrid to find my way back. Because this is me we're talking about, I STILL managed to get lost even with a damn map! "Just walk!" I said, "You'll totally remember the way back!" I said. Man, I have got to stop listening to myself. I look at it this way: If you constantly tell yourself that you are on a Grand Adventure, You will never be lost.

...My life is a constant Grand Adventure.

After another hour on Calle de Idontevenfuckingknowanymore, I managed to take a left and see: 'Leather Bar'! Halle-freaking-lujah! That hostel's around here somewhere, folks! I found my street (Oh, here's a tip: There are no signs on poles here. The street signs are mounted on the walls. If you want to figure out where the hell you are, go to the corner and look up.), and checked into my hostel. I took my sheets and bags into the room, locked up my laptop and small things, and passed right out. I didn't even make the bed. I just laid down the sheet, grabbed a comforter, and that was a wrap.

Next entry: The first night in Madrid begins, my friends!

¡ Yo estoy Aquí! Primera Parte

Well guess what, Ladies and Gentlemen! After MUCH ado, I have finally arrived in Madrid. My day was filled with firsts, especially since I've never been here before in my whole life.  I flew from Philly to Madrid, my first international flight. For the first time I saw the view like you see in the movies. There were lights everywhere, as far as I could see. 
There is no feeling like the awe that hits you, when you realize that you have really left your country. Like, you can see the actual border as you start to cross the ocean.

The flight was much shorter than I expected. I spent my time watching Sex and the City, Newsroom, Black Swan, and finally Moulin Rouge (I didn't get to finish it. Boo.) I was never really able to fall asleep. I nodded a few times, but the people constantly ringing for the flight attendants kept waking me up. After a while, I saw lights again, and realized that we had crossed the ocean safely.

Yeah, you can't see crap but I'm adding it anyway. That's how I roll.

Finally after what felt like for-EVER, we began to see signs of Madrid. I took a lot of pictures from the plane, but I'll only torture you with one:

 

Madrid letting its Soul Glo

 The view was incredible! I could see all these beautiful buildings, and I really wanted to take pictures of everything I could see in front of me. I also learned to use the 'video' function on my phone. Hahaha, just kidding I use that all the time!

                                        

            Then it was time to land! ALL-RIIIIIIGHTTTT!!

             (Yes, I recorded my damn landing, because I am a dorky dork who dorks. Jealous!?)


Dear Sweet Minty Jesus, can we please discuss why it takes eleventy million years to walk from the plane to the damn terminals (I'm looking at you too, Philly!)!? I had to dress like a decent human being for my international flight (flight attendant mom), so I wore my cute little snakeskin heels. Let me tell you, after two flights and endless walking, they weren't so fucking cute!! I was limping by the time I got to customs. :-(

I get to customs, get my passport stamped (for the first time, NBD!!!), and I'm off to the... rest of the airport. Yayyyy! Ugh, booooooo! Yeah, apparently there is a pattern with these international airports. It takes forever to get across the things! I really think the they should offer some kind of service. I mean, you needed a shuttle to get to the Airport Shuttle! I will admit: The FIRST thing I did after getting my baggage was to go outside, smoke a cigarette (you're not so perfect either), and PUT ON MY SNEAKERS!! OH GOD, THE RELIEF!! I also took a couple of pictures while sitting on the ground like a crazy person:

¡Hola, soy tourista!

Look honey, there are taxis and everything!

I went back inside to realize that: I was not done yet. Oh, no! I got through customs and baggage claim, but there was so much more airport to get through. There were eleventy million signs for the Metro, but the Metro never seemed to appear. After a while, you feel like the signs are mocking you. They were all like: "You're almost there! It's coming soon, we swear! No, seriously. Any minute now. Look at you, you're doing so well! Four for you, Glen Coco. You go, Glen Coco! Keep going!"

You know what's at the end? Cookies, son. Cookies.

These are not the cookies you seek.

So, after hobbling through the Jet-way of DOOOOOM (in heels), limping through the Airport That Doesn't End (I mean, I mean dear LORD, I thought I would NEVER make it to the Metro!),  I finally made it to the Metro, and learned something extremely important: Madrid Metro stations have a fuck ton of stairs! I mean y'all: they love the hell out of stairs. Seriously, what is the deal? Everywhere I went there were just long rows of stairs. Now, I'm not a lazy girl (okay, I'm kind of lazy), but when you add in the two huge suitcases I was carrying, my trip through the Metro started to feel like this:

\
I swear, every time I saw stairs I wanted to cry. I was always grateful to see an escalator. Seriously. After two train transfers, I got to my station: Chueca. HALLLLLLLL-LELUJAH! HAAAAALELU-notsofastmorestairs. What. The. Fuuuuuuuuu- Y'all, I seriously had to drag my suitcases up and down flight after flight of stairs. In order to leave Chueca station, I had to drag them up at least three more flights of stairs. My arms were on fire, and I seriously wanted to cry, but I dragged those bastards all the way to the top. Then I promptly got lost. Yup, I misread the directions to my hostel and walked all over my neighborhood. I pretty much walked down every street but the one my hostel was on. Once I got back to Chueca station, I realized that all I had to do after the Everlasting Stairs was turn right and go straight. The hostel was two blocks up. I then felt the hand of GOD come down and write 'Moron' on my forehead. Womp woooooomp.

I got to the hostel an hour earlier than I planned, because I really thought it would take longer to get through customs. I mean, all this foolishness took three hours. Oh: not only was I an hour early, I was three hours early for check in (Oh, you rotten motherf....).
I could either hang around the hostel, or walk around my new home. I looked around the hostel for a bit, then gathered my courage and hit the streets of Madrid!

More to come, I am extremely tired and I'm sure you have read enough. Cheers!