Days 10-13. SPAIN.

**Warning. This post, like all posts about ports-of-call is very long. I tried to break it up as best as I can!**

I am safely returned to the MV Explorer after a complete four-day stint in Spain. Writing to you from the water again, I can tell you that Spain has englightened me and had a profound effect on me. If I could describe Spain in one word, it would be this: “Finally”

In the words of a tour guide that I met and became good friends with in Madrid, “We have been held down so long, by dictatorship, by oppression, by a bad economy… finally we can live and grow.” And they so have. Madrid is a bustling metropolis, but it’s not what you’d expect. There is no skyline. There are no tall buildings or glowing neon lights or times-square-like-economic-districts. Instead, Madrid mixes the ancient Spanish civilization with the desire to become more modernized, and you can tell. A funny fact, Madrid isn’t built on any natural body of water or entry to the country… I asked the tour guide ‘why is Madrid here? Why not, like 40 miles north, or down in the south?” He said that the king and queen liked the climate and just decided that this was as good a place as any to build a castle… and so Madrid was born.

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Day 2

After a great day in Cadiz, we boarded the 7:40am train for Madrid. Having been raised in my father’s house, I of course was up all night tossing and turning in anticipation, and was up at the crack of the dawn, packed and ready for the adventure. When we agreed to meet at 0645 in Tymitz Square (central plaza on the ship), I was of course there at 6:40. The rest of the group, however, was not, and my stress level rose frantically as time went on. We didn’t end up leaving for 30 minutes (blood pressure through the roof) and had just a minute or two to spare when we reached the station. Still, we boarded and headed north for a 5 hour journey through the spine of Spain.

Spain is a beautiful, country-sided nation. Between major cities of Cadiz, Sevilla y Madrid, there isn’t much except farms and small towns cut into the rolling countryside. As the sun came up outside our train, we saw more and more of the small pueblos that exist all the way throughout the country. Traveling roughtly the distance between Virginia and New York city, the journey was a tad on the long side, but well worth it.

We made it to Atosha Train Station in Madrid- the site of the horrible terrorist bombings a few years ago- and our first challenge arose. I was the only person in the group who spoke Spanish, but was lacking a term that was all of a sudden of necessity: the Subway. We needed to find the subway to get to our hostel, and yet, I knew not how to speak of it. So, in a pretty comical moment, I asked one of the train conductors where “el tren pequeno que esta debajo del ciudad” is. Roughly translated, I was looking for “the little train under the city.” We found it, and I spoke with the tellers in spanish- there is NO ENGLISH and eventually discovered what we needed and what train to what stops etc., and soon we were topside and outside of our home for the next 2 nights, Cat’s Hostel. We had a 10-bed room that I booked for friends and it was preeettyyy tight. 5 bunkbeds were as well as on top of eachother, but hey, it worked, and we really had a lot of fun. Cat’s is beautiful, and boasts free internet and even a bar in the basement- it is truly a young backpacker’s dream.

Checked in, we walked around the city to el Plaza Mayor, the huge city square surrounded by ancient walls. It is truly a sight for the eyes. We had a great lunch, all 14 of us, and laughed and reveled in the fact that we were sitting in Spain

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That night, we decided to participate in a ‘pub crawl.’ This is clearly a brilliant idea invented by the Spaniards. Before I get to that, a little bit on the schedule in Spain:

Work starts at 10:30-11am, and is in 2 sessions. The first session goes until 2 or 3, at which point EVERYTHING closes for siesta. Then businesses re-open at 4-6 after lunch and a nap. Restaurants don’t serve dinner until, at the earliest 10 or 11pm, and the bars open not earlier than 1 or 2 in the morning. It’s incredible. The dance clubs don’t open until- no joke- 3 or 4 in the morning and stay open until 7ish . I have never seen people party as much as the Spanish.

Back to the pub crawl. For a mere 10 euros, our group of Americans were led to 3 bars and a club, each we would stay at for about 30 minutes or so. At each place, we got a free drink(s), and needless to say, by the end of the third bar, everyone was in great spirits. The bars were a lot of fun, and played mostly American music, another example of our globalization. The Spanish were friendly and excited to dance with us, and fascinated with our lack of salsa skills. I, on the other hand, equipped with an hour lesson aboard the MV Explorer was quite confident in my Salsa skills! After the third bar, we couldn’t take any more partying. This was at about 4:30 in the morning. After this, in true Spanish fashion, we partook in an ancient post-bar hopping tradition: Churros con Chocolate. We hiked from the hostel to a famous place, and had some amazing fried-dough dipped in chocolate. We returned at the ripe hour of 5:30 in the morning and crashed for some much needed sleep.

Day 3

We woke up and decided to do something called a free-walking-tour. There, a 28-year old guide named Adrian met us and explained the tour: we owed him nothing. At the end of the tour, we could decide how much the 3.5 hours was worth us and give him that much. He assured there were no strings attached, and was genuine throughout. Knowledgable, personable and one of the most friendly people I’ve ever met, we ended up spending the entire day with Adrian, went to lunch with him, and was invited to his birthday party that night across the street. He was great, and so insightful into the Spanish culture. I took the entire afternoon to ask him all about his culture, his history, and to brush up on my Spanish. He informed me of the liberalization of his city, Madrid. Franco, the dictator was conservative and oppressive, and wanted Spain to forever remain that way. But, as another example of how extremism has a 0% success rate, Madrid is now, 25 years later, one of the most liberal places in the world: homosexual marriages are legal. Prostitution is legal with controls. Sex-changes are legal, and paid for by the government’s health care plan. But, as Adrian pointed out, you cannot change back under the plan. You can walk completely naked throughout the city legally. But, if you have even a pair of shoes on, it is illegal and indecent exposure to wear nothing else. It’s all or nothing.

We saw the royal palace, El Prado Art museum, the central bank, house of parliament, puerta del sol, we saw it all, and walked so much before a great lunch.

That night, we decided on Mexican food, and found a place in the directory. I called to reserve space in the restaurant and attempted to explain that we had 14 people. Most of the restaurants are extremely small, so this was very difficult. In Spanish, the guy told me to come by at 11:30 or so for dinner (not too late), and we set out later to walk there. A little confused at the directions, we walked for like 30 minutes with still no promise of finding the place. To make matters worse, that little sub-concious was talking to me, telling me that the neighborhood was getting less and less safe. The amount of grafitti had increased exponentially, and I knew we should probably turn back. Such is traveling in a foreign country.

We found the place and had the most amazing Mexican food. It was great. That night, 3 of the girls who were supposed to return to Cadiz that day didn’t make their train, and ended up in Madrid one more day. To save money, we decided that we should just cram them into our tiny room. And so, last night, 14 people stayed in one tiny room. We all got real, real close after that night. But in order to get them in, we had to be sly- equipped with a plan, we elaborately brought people upstairs and then switched keys to sneak in more people under the hostel’s nose. It wasn’t exactly smuggling drugs, but the adrenaline rush, I imagine, was just as potent. We stayed up til 3 am laughing and talking in bed before finally crashing.

We awoke early, and caught a train south towards Cadiz and the ship. We did some last minute shopping, had a nice last Spanish lunch, and then boarded the ship, bound for Morocco.

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Thoughts

What a country, Spain is. The people are friendly and happy, and as I said, are finally available to live to their full potential. Adrian said something really amazing to me. He told me that with Franco as dictator, Spain did grow, but they didn’t have one fundamental thing: rights. Rights, he said, were so important to his people that they never accepted Franco, no matter what he did. As if he was being quoted for a textbook on democracy, he said “sin las derechas, tenemos nada,” “without our rights, we have nothing.”

Now, Spain is the 7th richest nation in the world, is growing, and is economically stable. It’s poverty rate is low, its people educated, and its future promising. The culture is rock-hard, and has not given in to European or American influence as much as others. They retain their Spanish charm and excitement. I really want to come back here to learn more Spanish. I felt so comfortable conversing in Spanish without English, but there was much that I had trouble expressing. I feel that with some time immersed, in just a few months I could become fluent.

Safely aboard the ship, this program is amazing. We have returned to the sea, complete with 4 days of stories and experiences. Dinner was spent catching friends and comparing notes. It’s that aspect of sharing our collective consciousness that truly makes this a learning and developing time for us all. The seas are rocky tonight; captain Jeremy assured us that we should put our valuables on the floor since “they will probably end up there anyway.” Tomorrow, we will stop in Gibraltar to get fuel (no getting of the ship) and then its on to Casablanca, at which we arrive on Monday. I will fill you in on details of my trip in Morocco tomorrow.

Adios del mar afuera de Espana,

Greg.