Woke up in the afternoon-not so much due to jet leg, as much as sheer tiredness from the little and mostly uncomfortable sleep we had in the past three days. After a walk to the tourist office to finally collect a map, we walked out into a plaza we had seen the night prior, but in all its un-rainly, daytime glory. Amongst the milling of tourists and locals, dancing and sometimes frightening and all together strange people laced in between crowds, asking for money, and putting on quite possibly the best show I’ve seen. [See the video.] A fat, dancing, glorious Spider-Man posed and initiated a waltz with Hello Kittie, who had been walking around with a Minnie Mouse and some other vaguely feminine character, all of whom all had something slightly off, but indefinable and possibly a bit creepy, with their home spun costumes. And there was a guy with a moose. And a man with a giant bubble wand. And several creepy puppets, who seemed to play instruments in their own right as their limbs were controlled by a man hiding in a backpack. A witch who gave tours also walked around, and often talked to three seemingly disembodied, mutilated heads on a table.
[Video to be uploaded later]
Once we had our fill of the bizarre, we hungered for something more filling and went to the famous (and surprisingly cheap) El museo de jamon, which had incredible chorizo. And then we walked to the Parque Retiro, where we saw an elephant (statue) performing the acrobatic stunt of balancing upon his trunk, a crystal palace, ducks that listened when you called, black swans, a little dog who tried to attack said swans multiple times and was chased off as the huge swan threatened to come onto to dry land and attack it in whichever swans attack in, a man in a car who spied on us (maybe) as Ryan asked for fire magic from a tree trinity, and a Spanish playground, which was a test of agility and ability, without the threat of sue-happy parents, so it was amazing, if slightly dangerous for small children. A lot of our Spanish adventures involve their strange play areas that are almost a work of art in their modernity and uniqueness, and this day saw the first.
Later that night, we decided to hit up one of the Irish pubs we had seen the night before, hoping for a pint of Guinness, while watching whatever futbol or rugby match happened to be on. But the Spaniards seem to have a different idea of the atmosphere an Irish pub should elicit. We were soon surrounded by cheap Irish car bombs and pints of whisky and coke, and the grinding bodies of people dancing to Lady Gaga, while pro-wrestling played soundless on the TV. We joined in (Ryan danced! AFTER asking me if I wanted to dance-haha, he could become a clubly person yet….), had some drinks, tried our first shots of infamous absinthe, and left to find a late night dinner, which was our first “true” kebab, in the form of a Turkish pizza, which was absolutely amazing. We accompanied our far-past-midnight snack with our first Spanish Fanta, which actually tastes like orange and is arguably the best drink in the world.
