Albergue Richard Schirrman
September 29, 2001
This place is like a prison. There are bars on the window, and one must buzz at the gate to get in. It is located in a gigantic park which once was the royal hunting grounds. Up the street from the entrance is where the hookers pedal their trade. Apparently prostitution is sanctioned inside the park, and there are condoms everywhere. I have spent almost my entire time here in Madrid utterly lost. Last night when I arrived I missed the turn from the Metro station and ended up walking the long way around the park. It was a fucker of a hike with all the weight on my back. Finally I arrived, tired and hungry, and just sat down to eat the remnants of food that were still in my pack when a girl asked me for a light. I ended up talking to this Finnish beauty for the rest of the night, forgetting about the food and how tired I was, etc. Finally Lisao(?) asked what time it was, and I said, “Holy fuck, it’s 2:00.” Good night darling. After struggling with the lock for about 10 minutes my Italian roommate finally opened the door for me, and I slept hard and had many dreams.
The next day (today) I got up in time for breakfast (barely) and had a nice hot shower which was only marred when I jammed my thumb when I got in and slipped. Refreshed I paid for another night, after having fought through the German school group at reception, and headed out the gate. Of course I had no idea where I was going because I came in the wrong way the night before. I made another circuitous route around the park, getting propositioned by one of the 10 AM hookers, who must be on some sort of 24 hour rotating shift, before finding Metro “Lago” and heading for “Sol” the centre of Spain. It is from Sol that all highways are measured in Spain, apparently there is some marker in the square where the 0 km is, but I didn’t find it. Instead I got lost trying to follow the Lonely Planet walking tour of Madrid. Even with 3 maps of the city at hand I managed to get thoroughly lost until around 2:00 when I found the museum I was looking for. This museum houses Picasso’s famous “Guernica” and an impressive collection of modern art (primarily Spanish) with an especially extensive section of Miro. So I did the Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, highlight of my day before going off in search of the soccer stadium where later tonight Real Madrid is playing. I walked through many empty streets (Spain being absolute deadsville-ish at 4:30) before finding a Metro station. When I finally got to the stadium (a 15 minute walk from the Metro) it was entirely closed with no sign of life except the dozens of tour busses parked outside. Absolutely worn out I got on a bus (which apparently uses a different ticket from the 10 pass Metro ticket I bought) and the bus driver told me something I didn’t understand (story of my life in Madrid). So finally I made it back here to the compound (having found the right way at last) and am now sitting in the courtyard listening to the screams of the roller coaster on one side (there’s an amusement park here for those not old enough or male enough to enjoy the hookers) and the sound of the Metro train on the other. Will I brave my way back to the stadium later in search of a ticket for tonight’s game? Ask my aching feet.
RE: San Sebastian
I traveled with my ami from Montréal, Françios, who I met in Bordeaux, and again in Anglet, to San S. we met Andrew (an Ausie) on the train and got a room at Pension Boulevard for the first night. We totally blew our budgets on beer and tapas etc. Next day F. and I checked into the hostel and spent the day on the beach, enjoying the beautiful weather, a great view, and some very nice Spanish babes (many of whom were topless). Next day we went to the Guggenheim Bilbao and saw an exhibit about a revolutionary media/video/performance artist whose name I forget. That night we went out with Gary (another Ausie) to “Tas, Tas” a bar in St. S. and enjoyed some of the night life. Next day was cold and shitty, and it was time to get out. Busses for Barcelona had gone so I ended up in Madrid lost and tired.
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