Day 15 Part 1: Amsterdam-Sexual Encounter Of A Foreign Kind

I have to wake up so early that the metros aren't even open yet. I pack my bag and am out the door to flag down the first cab I find. I have to walk to Arturo Soria because its a high traffic road and my chances of finding a cab are higher there. It doesn't take long to flag a taxi down. "To the airport " I say to the driver as if I expect him to understand me. I repeat myself in Spanish. The cab isn't to expensive.

I have a difficult time finding where I'm supposed to check in. I see a desk that says RyanAir and get in line. I'm next in line and approach the desk. I tell the clerk I need to check in. She looks at me with confusion. She brings up my information on her computer then tells me to the check in desk is behind me….cool. I get to the check in desks and the lines are outrageous…..cool. I get in line and it takes me about 15-20 minuets to finally get to the desk. I assume they can just check me in like they would at any airport, with my ID. No, apparently I needed to print my boarding pass off. Since I did not already have my boarding pass printed, it cost me forty euros to get checked in….awesome.

He hands me a slip and sends me back to the first desk I went to…..awesome blossom. At this point, time is pressing. I walk back to the desk to pay the forty euros. They give me a receipt, which I then rush back to the check in counter. He gives me my ticket and puts me in the faster security check because I now have about twenty minuets to make my flight. I get in line and in front of me are three middle eastern women with four children….great.

Not only do they have four children, but they don't comply with the FAA requirements and security wants to search their bags…..peachy. Not to mention the other dumb asses that were in front of them who didn't take their computer out of their bag and had to walk through the metal detecter multiple times because they kept forgetting to take something off or out of their pockets. I have to take my day bag off my main bag to get it through the X-ray machine and take my computer out. I get through the check point and put my shoes on. I don't even tie my shoe laces.

I now have six minuets to make my flight and of course my gate is on the other side of the airport…..just grand. With my clothes bag on my back and my day bag on my front I'm booking it through the airport terminals like an olympian track running Kenyan. People are looking at me like I'm a mad man. In the back of my mind I fear someone is going to think I'm running for the wrong reasons and I get tackled by police. I make it to the gate and luckily the middle eastern Brady Bunch is holding up the flight because of their baggage situation. I bend down to tie my shoes, hand them my ticket and the guy says I can't board the plane with both bags. No problem, I'll just simply zip it back on the main bag. Nope. He tells me that, that is not acceptable and I cannot board the plane unless I put my day bag inside of my main bag…….fan-fucking-tastic.

I did not make it all the way to the freaking gate just to be told I can't get on the plane. So best believe I made that bag fit better than those babies did in octo-moms uterus. I get on the plane, throw my bag overhead and take the first seat I find. I'm out of breath and sweating my ass off but damn it, I'm on the plane and going to Amsterdam!

The seats on the plane were comparable to strait jackets. I had no choice but to lean my head on the seat in front of me to sleep, which there was barely any room for that. Landing in Eindhoven the weather was cloudy, rainy and cold. I'm in shorts and a t-shirt and of course this is one of those air ports where they bring a set of stairs to the door of the plane and you have to walk to the airport.

As soon as I get through the doors I make a dash for the bathrooms to change into jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. I was planning on taking a train into Amsterdam, but getting to the information desk I find out that the train station is about thirty minuets away and I can take a direct bus for cheaper and in the same time the train would take. So I buy a bus ticket for 27 euros. I've got an hour to kill so I get something to eat at the upstairs cafeteria. I'm impacted with new languages and faces having gone from Spain to Holland.

My bus finally arrives and there are about six others on the bus with me, excluding myself. The bus was huge so everyone pretty much spread out in their own little areas. I was off and on sleeping the whole hour and a half ride. The weather is the same in Amsterdam as it was in Eindhoven. The only thing I know when I get off the bus is I'm looking for the Flying Pig hostel. Everything else at this point, I'm winging it. Figuring it out as I go. The bus drops us off in front of the train station. When I get off, I walk around and find my way in to the streets of Amsterdam. They're crowded with tourists, travelers and back packers.

Its such a surreal thing to witness first hand when I've only had the stories people have told me to base my opinion off of. There are crazy, black lit trippy stores. You can smell the cannabis coming out of the coffee shops. Another visual overload as well as a treat for the nose. Aside all the amazement by the streets of Amsterdam, I'm freezing my ass off. I spot a hemp clothing store and go inside to shop for a sweatshirt. I'm now the owner of a black sweatshirt made entirely of hemp. Going green I guess you could call it!

I ask the cashier, a really friendly local rasta girl, where the Flying Pig is. She points me in the right direction, just a few blocks down the street. I get buzzed in to the hostel and its lively with people hanging out at the bar, travelers on their lap tops and some good tunes jamming on the stereo system. I'm greeted by a nice blonde dutch girl named Mikah. I ask her if there were any openings for the night and I get the last bed available. She gives me a map of Amsterdam, a list of instructions and rules for the hostel and hands me my key card.

The first hostel I've ever stayed in is The Flying Pig in Amsterdam. My room is on the top floor with three other people. I walk in and my roommates things are all there but they are no where to be found. I put my stuff in my locker under my bed and plug my computer in to charge. Now that I'm actually here I don't know what to do with myself. I take my computer with me down to the bar so I can catch up on some e-mails, see if I have any responses on couch surfers and look up the most recommended coffee shops. No luck on responses from couch surfers for a host in Paris though.

Watching people around the bar was fun. So many people from all over. The room behind me is the "smoking room". Basically a bunch of people baked out of their minds lounging around, sharing stories, staring into space and playing board games. The walls are covered in books of all random origins. There are two British guys sitting next to me at the bar humorously flirting with the bartender, Jackie. A twenty year old Japanese girl, who still plays Pokemon on her Nintendo DS.

The two Brits names are Conner and Will. I catch all of this while they are introducing themselves to Jackie and playing the age guessing game. I ask Conner how much the beer he's drinking is and its way cheaper than mine so I make the switch to a beer called Juplier at the price of two for one. Conversation strikes up between the two of them and myself. Their both from the south of London. Conner is 18 about to turn 19 and works a job back in London, although I can't remember what he does. Will is 19 and a student and I can't remember what he's studying. (damn alcohol!) They've been here in Amsterdam for three days. This is a weekend get away for them.

It was sunny and warm before I arrived in Amsterdam. I asked what they had been doing during their time here. They went on a canal tour and found some favored coffee shops. I catch them up on my experience in Europe thus far. I guess at this point one of the major high lights of my trip was running with the bulls. (Still replays in my head every day) I run upstairs real quick to put my computer away and then meet Will and Conner in the smoke room to hang out some more. It's fun in this room. All the people are calm and relaxed. There's a really intense game of chess going on in the cushion corner.

It's still light out so Conner and Will take me on a little walk through the city to show me some of the sights they've seen. The streets are still buzzing with people. They take me by a place called "The Old Church". It's a small shop filled with all kinds of paraphernalia. It's a little contradicting having a place called "The Old Church" located in the Red Light District. After browsing The Old Church, they take me through the Red Light District on our way back to the Flying Swine.

One thing I didn't realize about the district is that it covers a broad area, and not just a "strip" like I had previously assumed. Hence the word "district" I suppose. It was such an interesting spectacle. These women standing or sitting in their own red neon trimmed window. Each one of them looks just as programmed as the last casting out their imaginary bait waiting for someone to bite on to their eye contact and start reeling them in. The streets of the Red Light District are filled with guys window shopping. If men never procrastinated on getting greeting cards and spent as much time selecting them as these guys were putting into selecting their prostitutes, I don't think women would be as neurotic as todays current selection of females. But then again a greeting card doesn't always guarantee a put out these days so its really just an on going battle. Conner had told me, earlier at the bar, that he made one attempt to pursue paying for sex but couldn't go through with it.

As we're walking through the district we pass a blonde, tan piece of window candy, standing in her door way. She had a black bikini on lined in neon green. Conner approaches the professional and inquires about how much. She responds with a high pitched foreign accent, "30 Euros, blow-job and sex baby!" He turns to Will and I with a smug grin on his face and says, "I'll catch up with you guys later!" as he enters the the red lit show case complete with bedroom in the back. I was jaw dropped. A complete loss for words for what has just happened right in front of me.

I look at will, who appears to be just as shocked as I was. "Uuuuuhhhhh, so should we go wait for him at the hostel?" I say. Will says yes, so we head back to the pig. Back at the hostel, Will and I take our original seats at the bar. I'm still trying to process what just happened. Not but five minuets into our first beer, Conner returns from his sexual encounter of a foreign kind. Complete with togo Chinese noodles in hand. Will and I are now in shock of how quick this transaction took place.

Conner claims it didn't take long due to her being a master in her trade. I assume the Chinese noodles were a victory meal of some kind. I really don't think that I could ever bring myself to purchasing sex. Although to him, I tip my hat. That act takes some might big huevos to go through with. I hope he at least gets a check up at the doctor just to be on the safe side. In Amsterdam, when a prostitute contracts AID's, the country provides them with an apartment to live in and assists them in finding steady employment for them to control and prevent the spread of the debilitating disease.

Intermission

Hey everyone. I return home tomorrow evening for a month, before setting out on my next travel destination. I hope you all have enjoyed my posts. Trying to manage the traveling I have done while keeping up with my posts has been challenging, although I have been maintaining everything in my journal. It's just a matter of transcribing what I've written in to these posts. I will continue to make my posts for the continuation of my trip over the next week. So that everyone can continue with the storyline, that was my time in Europe.

I hope you all will continue to follow. My time here in Europe has been rewarding beyond expectations I had prior to actualizing this trip. Thank you to everyone that has followed thus far. I've really enjoyed sharing my affairs with all of you in this framework. See you all soon.

Day 14: Paddle Boating In Retiro Park and Mexican Food

Kristin and I are going to Retiro Park today. We're going to rent a paddle boat on the pond and hang out in front of the huge monument thats hundreds of years old, because back home doing so at Bedford Boys Ranch and watching ducks just doesn't quite appeal. (That is if you could rent paddle boats on that pond. Not a bad idea for the City of Bedford to consider.)

Its pretty hot this day. Kristin and I are already sweating like dogs by the time we get to the pond. It costs four euros to rent a boat. Neither of us had done anything like this so it was equally exciting for the both of us. It went without saying that I was the one paddling us. I know my cousin all too well. She's above paddling.

It's nice on the water and much cooler. Watching the other paddle boats around us was mellow. It got entertaining when we saw a couple and the woman was paddling the boat while the man did the relaxing. I didn't mind paddling the boat. It was good exercise, plus I'm a gentleman. We spent about an hour or so on the water paddling around, taking pictures and relaxing.

Docking the boat was frustrating because the guy working the dock was trying to tell me to do something in Spanish. I sat there with a dumb founded look on my face. He finally leans down and takes the oar and puts it in the boat all the while getting sarcastic and frustrated with me. Kristin and I walk to Chueca because thats where her student lives.

We find a little restaurant not far from her students apartment. Maggie is meeting us here. We order some drinks and tapas. Kristin reads and I write. Maggie arrives and goes to the bar to order and discovers our server likes blonde girls…. a lot! He took every opportunity to talk to her each time he came to the table. Kristin and I are carried away with reading and writing. Maggie asks that we be more social because she has no time killer.

A few beers, some sandwiches and tapas later its time for both Kristin and Maggie to go meet their students. We walk Kristin to her lawyer students place. We got the chance to meet him. He was kind but very shy, of course I don't think he was expecting to meet us. I walk maggie to her class which isn't too far from Kristin's. I decide to go shopping while they teach. In July, Spain has sales, or "rebajas", everywhere. Everything is 50-70% off. I go to a really big department store, I don't know where the hell it is though. One thing I hate about shopping is when I have money to spend, I can't find anything. When I don't have money to spend, I find everything I want. In this case I find pretty much nothing. Although I did buy two shirts because I was getting tired of wearing the same shit.

Kristin, Maggie and I arrange to meet at the Sol metro after their classes finish. I'm on my way in the metro and Kristin runs into me getting on the same train. While waiting on Maggie in Sol, I go into the Sephora thats right next to the metro. My mission: to buy cologne. I haven't worn cologne in over two weeks and I'm going crazy because the arm straps on my day pack have absorbed so much sweat their starting to make my shirts smell every time I put it on. I originally brought a sample cologne with me from when I bought the cologne I use at home. Although when I bought the cologne at home the lady gave me a sample of the cologne I purchased and a sample of the women's version. Guess which one I brought with me to Europe!!??

I find a small bottle of Georgio Armani for thirty-five euros. The cashier hooked me up with some more samples. When I leave I double check the samples for any women's samples to make sure that situation doesn't ever present itself again. Maggie finally arrives at the meeting point. We're going to a Mexican food restaurant Kristin and I found after the thai food last night. One thing I miss is MEXICAN FOOD! It's no where here, so to find this restaurant was a sign from God! Inside the restaurant theres Mexican music playing, along the bottles of tequila behind the bar and a Mexican flag hanging from the ceiling. Last but not least…..a margarita machine! This was looking to be an outstanding meal…or so we thought.

Kristin and I order margaritas while Maggie goes the Mexican beer route. Smart move on her part. We get our margs and the first sip is like a punch to the face. It was tequila with an over powering amount of sugar. I can normally hold my own when it comes to the potency of an alcoholic beverage, but not this time. with every sip came a brand new awkward facial expression.

We order our food. I get the chicken fajitas, Kristin gets the vegetarian enchiladas and Maggie gets the the chicken enchiladas. Our food arrives and its not the most eye appealing food. I have about a tea spoon size amount of refried beans on my plate. Maggie and Kristin's looks like a skillet full of fried cheese. Some where underneath all that cheese lyes two corn tortillas. Now even though there were all these negative factors to our dinner, I do keep in mind were at a Mexican food restaurant in Spain, so expectations should be low or non existent. Keeping that in mind, I don't really say much about the food at dinner. Its food and its in my face. Kristin and Maggie on the other hand make a criticism with every bite.

Kristin can't finish her margarita, so I do. Maggie doesn't finish her enchiladas, so I do. Would you expect anything different from me? After polishing off the last of the alcohol and food, we pay our tab and bounce. But not before I motorboat the seniority skeleton statue outside the restaurant. My flight is early in the morning so we go home so I can pack and go to bed. Amsterdam, here I come.

Day 13: Officially A Couch Surfer And A Faceplant

Today I continue my efforts to book my flight to Amsterdam. I'm finally successful and am able to book a flight out Wednesday morning, the 13th of July. This is a bit of a change in my original game plan, considering I wanted to spend three days in Amsterdam and three days in Paris before heading to Germany. I really want to be in Paris for Bastille Day, which is Thursday the 14th. So my new game plan is to do Amsterdam for a day then head to Paris to catch the fire works, then Germany by the weekend.

My flight is actually booked to land in Eindhoven, Holland because thats the cheapest city I could get through the airline I used. I'll have to take a train into Amsterdam from there.

There isn't much on todays Agenda. I do some laundry and relax around the house. I accompany Kristin for a quick walk to the gas station so she can get some cigarettes and a diet coke. I buy a sandwich while at the gas station. When we get home I open the sandwich and it smells of some kind of ungodly odor. I put some mayo on it and try giving it a go. The first bite is immediately spit back out into the trash. I don't really want to know what the comparison is to describe how terrible that sandwich was.

So Allison and LeeAnn, the Fort Worth Nurses, introduced me to something called "Couch Surfing". Couch surfing is a non-profit organization for travelers. It's people all over the world opening their homes to people passing through for a few days and need a couch or spare bed to crash on. In order to couch surf you must create a couch surfing profile on their website. Once your profile is created you can start searching, pretty much, any city in the world to see who you can host you. You get to read and review who looks like they'd be a compatible host for you. You can also read the list of references on people profiles to see how well they hosted other surfers. When you request to surf someones couch they have the right of reviewing your profile and reading any references on your page to see if your a good surfer and have a respectable track record of being a good guest.

I spend a majority of the day making my couch surfing account. Bio, interests, past travels, philosophy on life and photos. I'm officially a couch surfer. My intentions are to couch surf in Paris in hopes that some one can show me a good place to watch the fire works and show me some good sights around the city. I find a couple of good candidates an keep my fingers crossed for a response.

I really like the whole idea of couch surfing. It adds so much more to your traveling experience getting to meet so many interesting people, learning about yourself and others like you. The all around philosophy about couch surfing is to "teach, share and learn". Teaching skills you may have or lessons you've learned through life. What ever you have to offer. Sharing stories and travel experiences, maybe getting an idea for your next destination. Learning from each person you meet. Everyone who crosses your path poses some kind of significance in your life. It also teaches you how to be a good house guest. Doing things for your host like cleaning , fixing something of theirs or blessing them with a nice gift. Everything adds to your experience. Of course it also saves you money! I came across the profile of a guy that did an entire world tour and couch surfed the whole way. That was more than fascinating and impressive. I'm excited to surf my first couch.

Kristin returns from teaching her lawyer student as dusk sets in. Her and I head into Sol to eat some thai food. The Thai restaurant she takes me to is really good. Only down side was no air conditioning. We have some good conversation over some pad thai. We go for a walk around Sol and end up enjoying a beer in the Plaza de Mayo. We underestimate the time and realize we have 30 minuets before the metro closes. We sprint to the nearest station. Kristin leads us onto the wrong train. So we have to back track a station at the next stop to hop on the correct train. I'm really surprised with how not good Kristin is at navigating the city after having been living in it for two months. But then again its not so different from when she moved to Fort Worth to go to school and was calling either my Dad or me about three times a day because of how often she got lost. Gotta love her!

Getting on our correct train we make it to our connecting station. We're running through the metro station to catch the number 4 line. I accidentally run to the wrong one. Kristin yells at me to turn around. Our train we have to catch is about to leave and we're running down the stairs. I make it to the bottom of the stairs and face plant in front of the train and a big group of people who just got off the train. I'm laughing hysterically and I didn't need to know Spanish to know what those people were saying about me. In a panic I get up and jump onto the train just as the doors close. Kristin and I are out of breath and laughing our asses off. We're homeward bound. Never a dull moment!!

Day 12: Down Time In Madrid

When I wake up I start looking for flights to Amsterdam. I find a Monday morning flight but for some reason it won't take my card online. I make a few more attempts that still result in failure.

Kristin, Maggie and I make plans to go to the park by the Egyptian temple. We gather our things and head into the city. We stop just before the park so I can get a kebab and we can get some beer. A kebab is sort of like a gyro back home except way better. We scope out a good spot to sit and people watch in the park. We're not far from the spot we were sitting in when dry hump of the week happened. We're all pretty much in relax mode. Kristin reads her iPad, I write and Maggie naps while we all listen to music.

Bernice joins us after a while. I give her my Rick Steves book because she wants something to read. Being that she's from France, she reads the section on France to see what American guide books have to say about her home land. She thinks its pretty ridiculous when she gets to the part that says you must go visit the Sephora store in Paris….I agree with her on how stupid it sounds to recommend going to a makeup store while in Paris, like there isn't anything else interesting enough to see.

A few hours of lounging in the park and the sun begins to make its fall over the horizon. We walk to a place called Museo de Jamon for a quick drink before heading home. Museo do Jamon is Spanish for Museum of ham……..so there was a lot of pig legs and different types of ham. Kind of a weird place to have some casual drinks, but entertaining none the less. Due to me getting in a 6M this morning and the girls having to be up early in the morning, we call it a night.

Day 11: Brad Pitt In Toledo, Spain

We sleep in as late as the day will let us. There fore we slept until about 10:30-11. We shower, get ready and are out the door. Kristin lets Allison and LeeAnn leave their bags at her house while we venture to Toledo. That way when we get back they can head off to their hostel. We hop on the metro to the "Atocha Renfe" suburban train station. The train to Toledo is about 35 minuets. At once we get some food. The girls haven't eatin since our food at the campsite yesterday in San Sebastian.

We catch the 1:50 train. On the train I enjoy some really great conversation with them. We talk about our trups and how much we will gain and grow from everything we're experiencing. We discuss life and relationships. They tell me about being nurses back home and how they've traveled a lot over the United States. They also continue to tell me how much they've enjoyed getting to meet and know me. they fell like they've known me forever and tell me how comfortable I make them feel. It's really reassuring and flattering. I reciprocate by telling them how they remind me of my friends back home. I remember my cousin, Amanda, explaining to me how I was going to meet people that recognize personality traits in me and instantly be drawn to it because they are the same way and/or have similar friends where they come from.

Our conversations make the train ride go by in the blink of an eye. We de-board the train onto the platform of this train station that looks like its been here for hundreds of years. It has a huge clock tower at the end and a nice little cafe. The girls use the facilities while I sit and attempt to map out our course through Toledo. the girls return and we agree to just wing it. Although we use the map to pick which direction to begin.

We start trekking out way up the road. We immediately see a castle to our left. we make an attempt to enter it by walking up a steep hill, only to be shut down by closed gates. We walk a bit further up the hill to approach the gates of the military/police base for the city. Given that were American, we really have no curiosity about any sort of authority figures. Like when the policia approached me in Pamplona, while waiting for the bulls to run, about my sangria bladder. I handed it over to him, no questions asked because I am not trying to go to jail in a foreign country. (oh yeah I forgot to add that in my "Running With The Bulls" post. Sorry folks.)

Making our way back down the hill, we get to an awesome bridge over the river. Each end has massive towers with high corridors as if we were entering a castle. Along the railings of the bridge there are areas that have cast iron rectangular notches in the stone. They sort of looked like giant staples. I'm not sure what they were for but on the ones that were loose people had put gold and silver locks, on top of locks, on top of locks. Making a sort of lock chain. Some of the locks had names and dates written or carved on them. I thought it was really interesting so I took pictures of all the lock clusters I found on the bride and there were quite a few.

After crossing the bridge we're intrigued by the massive castle like wall in front of us. The entire city seems to be very castle like. The ground were walking on is weathered smooth stones. We stop to think about just how long these walls and roads had been here and just how many people, horses and carriages have made their paths through these streets.

Theres a place at the top of the walk way that allows us to walk along the roof of the wall. We explore out on to the wall making out way to the corner. From here we have a great vantage point of the, sort of, valley part of the city. toledo has a sort of desolate feel to it. Very brown, tan and dry. A few snap shots and some more exploring of the wall and we make our way further into the city. We came across a museum and jump at the opportunity to see more history. A bonus is, its free!

Entering the museum, we're greeted with ancient statues, stone coffins and colorful stone wall, floor to ceiling, patterns. Some dating all the way back to 1 AD. Allison and I have a difficult time trying to grasp that concept of time. We find three statues, of what look like kings, each posed in different stances. Allison has the great idea of the three of us standing in front of them and posing as they appear. I put the self timer on, on my camera and set it on top of some ancient stone artifact. Yeah I know, I probably shouldn't have done that but there was no one around to take the picture for us so I had to improvise. The picture was defiantly the highlight of the day.

We make our way into the art portion of the museum. This part of the museum was infatuation an mesmerizing. Jesus is really big here in Spain. So pretty much all the paintings were biblically related and in some way, if not directly, related to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. 'm not the holiest when it comes to religion but these paintings were beyond beautiful. The detail, the color, the depiction. It was visual overload! I could see how one may even get the slightest bit emotional due to some of the graphic nature of the paintings.

Allison brought up a good point to me, that I was actually already thinking in my head at the time, about how outside this museum we have our own stipulated beliefs and opinions. But walking through this art gallery and seeing all of these biblical pieces, wether they be art or sculpture, just really makes you wonder about the legitimacy of it all. Not to say that the bible, or the crucifixion of Jesus Christ isn't legit. That would be disrespectful and arrogant to make such a statement. But for those who may lead their own beliefs out side of the bible, it puts much "awe" in ones imagination of how much truth may lye behind the history of our being.

After about 45 minuets of being biblically "mind fucked", we exit the museum in a sort of somber piece of mind, or at least I did. I can only assume that LeeAnn and Allison did as well. We continue our unknown path through the city making our way into the central market area. We stop in at a patio side restaurant for a beer and some tapas. Damn I love tapas! Damn I love Spain!

The decision is made that we are going to tapas hop while we make our way through the city. There are a bunch of really cool shops with Spanish swords and daggers. I really wanted to splurge and buy one, but then I thought how in the hell I was going to get a sword on to a plane these days, not to mention how I would explain myself to customs. SoI wave goodbye to the Spanish sword that was mine for the time the idea was in my head.

Instead we get some delicious Ben & Jerry's ice cream. At home I normally don't eat sweets. But here in Europe, all reservations are out the window and I'm over indulging my pallet with food! Continuing our walk through the streets we find the cathedral. You have to pay to get in to this cathedral so we go in the free side which allows us about a 40x40 area to walk around in and only see whats allowed by the restricted fences. This thing is huge. the organ pipes, the ceilings. It was colossal and the thought that there ware even bigger cathedrals in Europe, than this one, is mind boggling. There is no picture taking allowed inside the cathedral so I set my camera to video and push record, let it rest around my neck and nonchalantly point the lens where I want it to capture. I hear the words, "NO PHOTO PLEASE" yelled in a broken Spanish accent. In a mild panic I turn around to find one of the security yelling at a woman who clearly cannot read a picture of a camera with a circle around it and a cross through it that is plainly displayed at the door as you enter the cathedral! Some people ;)

Given our limited viewing space, our time in the cathedral is short. We're off to find another bar for some tapas. We find a really cool brewery with great patatas ali-oli, some seafood stuff and some corn salsa. We sit on the patio and people watch for about 20 or so minuets. Our plan of winging it is going pretty well. We leave our spot to continue on with our adventure. We walk in to a courtyard area where it looks to be in front of the church. It also looks like they are setting up for some kind of concert. This proves evident when they do a sound test with some music booming through the courtyard. I set my camera to record and hand it to Allison so she can capture me bustin a move in the courtyard. I couldn't resist!!

After busting a Michael Jackson we continue on passing more shops and patio bars. We find another church that has a Spanish wedding being let out. We stop to watch and photograph this unique sight. There are about eight soldiers, lined up four on each side, standing outside the front doors with their swords all crossing each others. The bride and groom walk out and they look to be the poster children of such an occasion. The groom is in this awesome military uniform, different from all the others. While the others were grey, his was a dark blue, possibly black, decked out with pen-dons signifying his rank and is hat was big, like a captains, lined with gold lace. The bride couldn't have been more text book beautiful. Her brown Spanish hair in a bun and her strapless white dress that fit every detail of her body. They were both celebrated with the throwing of rice in their faces.

I felt pretty creeperish just standing there taking photos of their wedding from a distance. Even though I wasn't the only tourist doing this. There was a HUGE group of Asians next to me taking photos as if it were the royal wedding or some shit. I tuck away my massive telephoto lens and remove myself from the bush I was hiding in.......JUST KIDDING! Who ever they were though, they were rich and well known to the area. Anyway, we leave the wedding so that we don't add any more spoilage to their special moment. We walk down aways and realize we need to start getting back to the train station. Then we realize we don't really know where we are. We resource our map trying to navigate our location and end up having to ask a Spanish guy next to us to point out our location on the map. We have walked quite a distance. We start to make our way back while getting ourselves lost in the streets of Toledo and of course what decides to makes its appearance right then and there? A stomach ache. God I love my digestive system.

At this pint I'm focusing on breathing and doing what ever I can to calm my stomach down, like unbutton the top button of my pants, while the girls take the lead on navigating. Finally, after numerous lefts and rights through, what seemed like every narrow street in Toledo, we get on the correct path back to the train station. At this point I'm pushing prairie dog status. A term I learned from the Aussies is "Brad Pitt". For example, "I need to take a Brad Pitt!" By definition it is the act of deification. How Brad Pitt and dropping a deuce have any relations to one another, I don't know! But its the best description I have to use without grossing the reader our, so I'll take it. I'm also running faster than Brad Pitt aged.....or didn't age, in the curious case of Benjamin Button.

We get to the train station and hop in line to get on the train. Boarding the train, I tell the girls I'll see them at the seats. I've got a Barbra Walters type interview to knock out in the banjos! '

The interview was great success. I make my way back to the seats. The girls ask me how Brad Pitt was and I said he adopted another child. We slept on the train ride home, which only seemed like a second. We take the metro back to Kristin's house. Allison and LeeAnn grab their bags and head into the city to find their hostel and get settled in. I get ready at the house, do some work on the computer and head into down town to meet the girls at their hostel.

Their staying at the Hostel Ivor, near Sol. I'm a little late but they see me from their balcony and come down stairs. We pretty much walk the streets, drinking 40's until were buzzed so we don't have to spend that much money in any bars. Basically we get drunk in the streets and call it a night. The only thing exciting was trying to communicate with two club promoters and listen to them talk about their bar their promoting!

Day 10: Watching The Bull Run From The Stands

I wake up on the concrete floor of the charter bus parking garage. Myself and two Aussies are in a triangular form on the ground with our heads resting on one another's legs. The others are balled up near the wall. This was probably one of the most interesting places I've woken up. ( next to waking up in a water slide at the Butes Resort in Phoenix and then there was that one time I woke up naked in my closet.)

The bus arrives from San Sebastian. We approach all the other campers, who decided to stay at the campsite for the night, and the look on their faces is more than priceless. They were all eager to hear our stories from the debauchery that was our night in Pamplona. For a second time we all make our way towards the bull run. I'm going to watch this time and see what its like from the stands.

Lynzy, Allison, LeeAnn and an Aussie (can't remember his name) buy our tickets, fight our way inside and find our seats in the stands. At this point I'm some where between drunk, sober, hung over and a bit delusional from being so tired. Oh and I'm freezing my ass off because I have no shirt on. Not to mention my ass cheeks are more chafed than a marathon runners nipples. I huddle near Lynzy to get what ever heat I can.

My camera, believe it or not, has survived one of the wildest nights known to Pamplona. We hear the cannons fire and watch the bull run begin on the big screen. It's hard to believe that I was there just 24 hours ago. I can still remember the sound of the bulls stampeding behind me. Its not long before we see runners swarming into the arena from the streets. Not but a few minuets later the bulls trail in and immediately head for the stalls under the stands. The gates close as the last of the runners make their way into the arena.

The small bulls begin to be released. Its more entertaining being in the stands watching this, than actually being down there having your nerves shot to hell. Granted it was still awesome being down there. I lasted the first two or three bulls before I started passing out in my seat while trying to record the insanity below with my camera. I move myself down between Lynzy's legs so I can get some heat and fall asleep on my knees. Lynzy takes advantage of my shoulders and back, leans forward and uses me as a support to sleep. People around us start snapping photos. Even our friends with us took pictures although I don't blame them. I would have done the same thing.

Finally the ass slapping of the bulls came to an end and we make our way out. On our way back to the buss there is this huge monumental brass statue of men running with the bulls. I give my camera to Lynzy and climb atop the statue for a few sap shots. I pose in a celebrating manner in honor of the success I had running with the bulls. I think I'll do it again some day!

I sleep on the bus back to the campsite because when we return we have to start to pack and move out so the next set of campers, coming in that day, can settle in. We get back to the campsite and pack up. A lot of people are going to the beach before they head off to their next destination. LeeAnn, Allison and I get some food at the bar before heading into town. Lynzy and Nicole are already on their way to the beach with a few of the Aussies.....their sprung.

We get to the bus stop to find H.K. and Wilson (two brothers form Charlotte, North Carolina) waiting for the bus as well. We're all headed to the train station. My train back to Madrid leaves at 4:20. LeeAnn and Allison's next destination is also Madrid. We make plans to do a day trip to Toledo tomorrow. We arrive at the train station and they have to make their reservations. They watch my luggage for me so I can walk to the beach real quick to try and find Lynzy and Nicole so they can pay me back for some money I lent them during our time in San Sebastian. I get to the beach and don't have much luck finding them considering the amount of people that are there. So I snap some quick photos and head back to the train station. Everyone's trains leave before mine so I get to see them all off. I get HK, WIlson and two 18 year old Aussie girls, e-mail information so I can send them some photos from our eventful weekend.

Come to find out that my month back packing excursion is nothing compared to what a lot of the other back packers I've met are doing. Some had already been back packing for a month or two and still had two or three months left. Having made it this far in my trip, I kind of wish I would have don the same.

I board my train at the prompt time of 4:20. It's about a five hour train ride. I sleep a majority of the way back. On the train I'm sitting next to this really beautiful Spanish girl and I felt bad because God only knows what the hell I smell like after having been through what I have over the past four days.

After enjoying my coma of a sleep on the train (full of twitching and bad dreams...I'm sure I disturbed half the passengers around me), I arrive back in Madrid. I hop on the metro back to Kristin's to drop my stuff off and go back to the train station to welcome Allison and LeeAnn to Madrid. I find them attempting to use a pay phone but they are having no luck. They join me back to Kristin's place so they can use the wireless signal and try and contact the CouchSurfing host they had been in touch with. Unfortunately for them their host was a flake and it was already pretty late. Kristin was so generous to offer them to crash there for the night. I am grateful for my wonderful cousin, as are LeeAnn and Allison I'm sure. Tomorrow the three of us take on Toledo!