Midnight in Madrid

First of all, the other day, for some reason I mentioned something about women with blue hair and men in berets. This was a complete and utter lie and I did not realize this until Miguel and I were walking back to El Museo del Jamon and I had told him what I described. He pointed out the truth, that I´m making that part up, and so I think I must set the record state. Unfortunately, in Madrid, everyone is very well dressed. And by that I don´t just mean showered. More on this later.

I have not slept since we´ve arrived. This possibly might have an impact on my mood. And another thing that might have some impact is my new stylish haircut. Showering wasn´t enough, I had to go get my haircut. Well, the thing is, thanks to my language barrier, I neglected to tell the stylist that I don´t style my hair, not in the classic sense, anyway. I wish I could have found the words but they´re not on the Pimpleur language tapes. So, when we left the hair salon, my new short hair cut looked quite dandy. Now I look like a man, or a mom. Not that there´s anything particularly wrong with either.

We went to the hair salon yesterday because it was pouring rain and all the museums were closed. Miguel got his haircut in the morning and it just seemed like a fun thing to do, wee! I don´t want to sound like I´m complaining.

So we decided to stay another day. Today we went to El Museo del Prado to see the Porstraits of Spain exhibit, featuring the works of Goya, Velazquez, and Picasso. I only have ten minutes left, though, so you´ll have to wait for the unabridged version.

The Museo del Prado, the botanical gardens next door, and Starbucks are the three places where you can breathe clean air in Madrid. Everywhere else reeks.

I´ve got a lot to be thrilled about. I have made contact with cousins in France and we´re going to (hopefully) meet in Barcelona this Saturday which happens to be my birthday. I´ll tell you the whole story later.

I, of course, have photos of the haircut and everything. Miguel suggested we publish them now, but I´m too sleepy, but soon. Also, we´ve been spending a lot of time with Miguel´s cousin Eugenio. They grew up together in Nicaragua. The familial similarities are kind of scary but enjoyable for me.

Tomorrow, we take a train to Zaragoza, and contemplate renting a car to drive to Berdun, the birthplace of my grandmother.


About katiekelly

I grew up in a parking lot.
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