Meyer Women Reunion!

Megan hightailed it out of Bull's early to meet her parents at the airport. Alex and I had a few more hours to kill until picking up our families (on the same flight too, guay!), so we hung around just long enough to ingest our moneys worth of Bull's breakfast buffet.

Thankful to be dropping our things off at our new respective hotels, we enjoyed a morning stroll through beautiful Retiro Park and stopped for expensive, but always delicious, cafe con leche and coke. Under the clear blue sky and 70-degree sunshine, we watched families and couples paddle by in small boats on the lake. Surrounded by perfect pink flowers, statues, candy stands, and fountains, I had to pinch myself as I often do when having one of my famous "this is my life" moments.

Reluctant to leave, we made our way towards the metro, knowing that the ride would take about 45 minutes. Yikes, imagine the price of that cab! As we got closer and closer to our destination, it was like Alex and I developed a severe case of ants in the pants. It was like we had morphed into six-year-old children at the sudden reality that we would be seeing our families so soon! We tried to distract ourselves by stopping for bacon and queso bocadillos (my artery-clogging diet of choice), going to the bathroom 600 times, looking at old pictures on our cameras, singing our conversations, looking for maps, you name it. When we discovered their plane had landed, we stood/danced/shuffled in place right outside the roped-off doors, freaking out each time the doors cracked open. Time had never moved so slowly. Almost an hour later, I stopped mid-sentence with Alex and ran to meet my mama and Bee. I didn't even mean to cry, it just happened. Que verg (Spanish abreve for "how embarrassing").

We re-boarded the metro and prepared to the long ride back...this time with the bags, which had already become old hat for Alex and I. Parting our separate ways at the blue line, mom, Bekah, and I continued on to the Santo Domingo stop. Did I mention that our hotel, Hotel Santo Domingo, was right next door to Bull's Hostel? In my frequent passing throughout the following week, I openly cursed this doorless, bull**** hostel. Needless to say, Hotel Santo Domingo had doors and was quaint and very comfortable. Not surprisingly, Bekah and mom were anxious to get upstairs and plop down on the bed.

After napping and freshening up, we set out to explore a bit. First stop: Plaza Mayor for tapas. We sat outside under white umbrellas, sharing a pitcher of sangria and a racion de croquetas. I’m not going to pretend that I wasn’t all too eager to impress my mom and sister with my Spanish skills, taking great pride in ordering for all of us. They needed me. How could they POSSIBLY survive in Spain without my skillful help?! It was during this clouded mindset that the waiter talked me into ordering the café’s delicious specialty dish. When I asked what was in it, I heard him answer, “Something, something, PEPPERS.” Hey, I like peppers, I thought. And besides, it’s the special. “Si ponganos uno de eso tambien” (Yes, bring us one of those as well). Minutes later, we were taken aback by what looked like octopus tentacles on a wooden slab. With hesitant fingers, I picked one up and began to chew. Have you ever tried eating rubber? I haven’t, but I imagine it would feel a lot like this. Well, this was definitely special. The only thing peppery about the dish was the spicy seasoning on top. I worked on chewing that rubbery fish for a good 3 minutes, hoping I could get it down and swallow it with my pride. I simply couldn’t do it. That sucker came right back out and sat on my plate until we got the bill. Leaving all but two of those nasty things on the wooden slab, I summoned the waiter for the check. This was another adventure. It’s only appropriate to mention that in Spain, prices are rarely listed. It’s even considered impolite and cheap to ask the price of individual items. The thought is that if you’re so concerned about saving money, why are you eating out? As soon as we got our check, it was obvious why the waiter had been so adamant about selling us that nasty racion since it had a 17-euro price tag. With my foot in my mouth for the remainder of the evening, I realized that even after living in Spain for 2 and half months, I STILL have so much to learn. Rubber fish quickly became the joke of the week, my mother convinced that I would order more for them throughout the week.

The experience wasn’t an entire disaster though since we spotted Bink Stewart midway through our meal. I’ve known BInk since kindergarten and went to Rivendell School with him up until 7th grade. He’s been attending a university in Pamplona, Spain (NE region) and just happened to be visiting a friend in Madrid that same weekend. What a small world to have seen a friend from the US passing through the Plaza Mayor in Spain at the same time as us! Guay, no?

Anxious to leave rubber fish café, we walked down a nearby street to look in souvenir shops and such. We found our way to Palacio Real, a grand gold and white fortress where the majority of the Spanish royal families had lived. Walking back past glass players, painted performers, and caricature artists, we stopped once again for tapas (this time just outside La Plaza Mayor). Here, we had potato salad with weird mayonnaise and tostas with smoked ham. This bill was much more reasonable.

Later that night, Bekah and I met up with Alex and her sister, Isabel. We ended up at an Irish pub near La Puerta del Sol. We soon found out that we had welcomed ourselves into a birthday party, where we enjoyed our fill of free beer. It was a bit like I was back at JMU…except for all the creeping Spanish men surrounding us. This was definitely a cultural experience for Rebekah and even though she’s a very pretty girl, no doubt that blonde hair of hers got her a good deal more attention than she’s probably used to in the States. Around 3am, Bekah was danced out, so we hailed a cab back to Santo Domingo. What a fun experience!