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!

Day 9 Part 2: Bernie and Jumanji Make Their Debut In Pamplona

A few hours of good sun and the clouds start to roll in. About this time people are beginning to get ready to go out in Pamplona. The night after the first bull run theres a huge party in the city of pamplona. My white shirt is stained and reeks of old sangria and champagne so I opt to not wear a shirt because I don't want to sacrifice any of my clothes. My white pants and red sash is the out fit chosen for the "Pamps" party.

We fule up on some food and beer in the bar and everyone starts heading to the bus. I gathered all the campers together for one great group photo as the all screamed "VIVA LA PAMPLONA!" It was an amazing snapshot. We load on the bus and head into Pamplona for a well anticipated evening. Getting to the city we begin our walk around and the expected time to be back at the bus is 11:30.

On this evening all the campers got a great taste of the Taylor Gandy you all know and love back home. One thing I've learned about traveling and meeting new people is that you learn and you teach in any and all opportunities. This evening I taught. I taught the Bernie and I taught Jumanji. Hopefully most of you have watched the Bernie link in my "Day 8" post so I don't have to explain it. But for those who don't know "Jumanji" its sort of like an expression of a good time. Some friends and I came up with it a few years ago. When one is in an environment of excitement and good times the word "Jumanji" is then yelled. It would be like asking out loud "Who's having a good time?!" but summed up in one word thats easy to yell anywhere. When one hears the word "Jumanji" they are to bring their hands to their shoulders, then throw them in the air, yelling "OOO-OOOOH!" (Sort of like Amy Polar does, sitting on the exercise ball in the movie "Baby Mama")

Everyone took on to it like a fat kid on a piece of German chocolate cake. There was Bernieing and Jumanji on every street we walked on. A parade with another with another drum line came down the street so we all Bernied around them. Another game we had been playing was a game called "Mine". (a game of the Aussies) If you say the word "mine" you have to drop down and do ten push ups. I ended up doing about 60 push ups through out the night.

The time was nearing 11:30 so everyone made their way back to the bus parking garage. About ten or eleven campers and myself decide to stay behind and keep the party going all night in Pamplona. The group consisted of Lynzy, LeeAnn, Allison (the Fort Worth nurses), about five Aussies and a few Brits. As the bus, full of the rest of the campers, drove away we bid them fair well with a Bernie in their honor! The bus exits the garage and we all look at each other like, "What the hell did we just get ourselves into!?!?"

We all return to the streets of Pamplona and get some sandwiches and more alcohol. We stumble across a huge Spanish rock concert. Immediately we run to the front of the stage and start rocking out. We have no idea what the singer is saying but that doesn't stop us from having a blast. While taking photos all these random Spaniards keep jumping in them or they just keep wanting to take photos with us. The concert ends and we find this cool water fountain to take more pictures in front of.

After the concert we follow the crowds to the park where theres a huge fireworks display. It was a great spectacle. We all celebrated with the passing around of a champaign bottle.

The whole night was us going up and down every street we came across and going into every Spanish disco we could find. During my time in Pamplona I discovered a new and now favored drink. Cognac and chocolate milk. D.E.L.I.C.I.O.U.S. LeeAnn gets one of these concoctions and pours some down the crack of my ass. In my inebriated state I turn around, with a very stern look on my face, and tell her, "I love you........but I will never forgive you!" All they could do was burst out with laughter. It wasn't so funny by the time the night ended and my cheeks were more chaffed than the lips of a man who's been stranded in the desert for 2 weeks.

The night was nearing morn so we head back to the parking garage to sleep on the concrete floor and wait for everyone from the campsite to return at 6 am to do a second run with the bulls.

Day 9 Part 1: Running With The Bulls

I'm woken up by flashlights and Lynzy yelling my name. I'm in a bit of a drunkin stooper and don't know where I am for a split second. Lynzy and I rush off to the bathroom and when I get back I have to quickly put my pants and shoes on, grab everything else and run to the bus partially dressed.

Everyone pretty much sleeps the whole hour bus ride into Pamplona. I awake and we're in the underground parking garage all filtering out. The anticipation is high in the air for most because we know what were all about to do. We get to a stopping point where the guides tell the ones who want to run to go with Moose and Smash (tour leaders) one way and the others to head to the arena. We get to the pin where the bulls are released and stand in the crowd, crammed in the street. Theres a smell of stale sangria, fresh from the day before, and cattle shit in the air. It's shoulder to shoulder of just standing and waiting for an hour and a half. The bulls are to be released at 8 AM and at about 40 min out, my large crowd anxiety starts to kick in.

I'm looking up in the sky, breathing slow and deep trying to keep my calm. Closing my eyes and picturing myself some where with lots of open spaces. the closer the clock struck to eight, the higher and higher my anxiety got. I'm about to loose my shit when a nice break. In the crowd appears and I can breath. then about ten minuets too early, a lot of people started to move down the street. nerves start to kick in now that people are starting to move and the thought that six massive bulls, each weighing 1600 lbs, are about to be charging down the streets towards me.

BOOM! The sound of the first cannon goes off, signifying that the bulls have been released. A second BOOM sounds, indicating that the last bull has left the pin and all bulls are stampeding. It's total and complete chaos and insanity. It a battle for your life. You turn around for a split second and you could get tripped and wind up getting trampled by the thousands behind you. You go too slow, you'll get pushed down. I was running near the buildings when all of a sudden I get shoved into a corner and smack my head on the corner of the of a brick building. I break loose of the hold and continue running a little further.

The thunderous sound of the stampeding bulls right behind me will never leave my memory banks. Next to sky diving, it was the biggest adrenaline rush of my life. I see an opening on the side and jump in it right as the bulls rush past me. I hop back in the streets and chase after the bulls, following them right into the arena. Jogging through the open gates, I look around and the stands are filled with people cheering and screaming. It was much like when Russell Crow first walked into the coliseum.

All the bull runners are scattered over the sand pitted arena. When the six main bulls enter the arena they are immediately herded into holding pins under the audience. Once all the runners have entered the arena they close the gates behind them and every ten minuets they release a ragingly pissed smaller bull into the runners. This goes on for about an hour. The first bull is released. I'm standing with Smash and Lisa, a beautiful blonde Australian in my campsite (aside the fact that she was Australian, it was a bit of a turn on that she ran with the bulls), by the wall near where the bulls are being released.

The bull bucks and charges everyone in its line of sight. Runners from all angles are comping up behind the bull to give it a good smack on the ass. When running up to the bulls, you are not to touch it on the tail or the horns. If you do you'll be greeted with a literal beat down by any locals nearest you. Women are not necessarily allowed to run with the bulls. It's looked down on now, but it's been a mans tradition since the dawn of its birth. There are women who run, Smash and Lisa for example, but they stick to a guy they know and stay out of harms way. All that said, there was one girl who ran up to the bull and slapped it in the ass. After her successful ass slapping, she turns around to encounter the angry fist of a Spaniard right in her face. She falls to the ground and is carried off by two fellow guy runners.

They bring out one of the big bulls to heard in the smaller one. The second they go back into the pin, people swarm the ground at the opening of the gates. Guys kneeled down in the fetal position in lines. Their reason for doing this is so that when the next bull gets released it will jump over them like a track hurdler. As much as I would have liked to do it, I don't know how well I'd handle a bull charging me head on while in the fetal position on the ground.

The black bulls were the most angered of the bulls released. Bucking and head butting people left and right. ONe of them starts charging my direction. The people around me and myself all jump on the wall, but yet he still seems to be headed for me. All I do is scream "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!" with Smash yelling at me, "STOP SCREAMING!!" Well what the hell else was I supposed to do? All of a sudden a slap to the ass and the bull's attention is turned else where before any damage can be done.

Finally the bulls stop coming, the gates open and the runners start filtering out to meet up with their friends who were watching in the stands. We meet up with the rest of the campers and hop on the bus back to San Sebastian. Unfortunately it was cloudy when we returned to the campsite so going to the beach was a no go. Most everyone began to nap.

My tent consisted of two sleeping mats, my luggage and the luggage (backpack) of someone else. I met my roommate once but haven't seen him since. It was a bit uncomfortable in my tent, as far as what I had to sleep with, but I've slept in worse. The sun comes out and it begins to heat up. I take my sleeping mat out side and catch some rays. Setting a trend, other follow my lead and join me in the sun.

Day 8: Sangaria Shower, A Bernie Down The Street and Beer Goggles

(sidenote: I decided to add a photo of the day so if you go back over my posts you can see a few pictures of my trip so far)

We awake mid morning to get ready for the opening Ceremonies. A Majority of the campers are all still a bit drunk from the night before. The attire required for the ceremonies is white pants, white shirt, red sash around the waist and a red scarf around the neck. Although its bad luck to wear the scarf around your neck before they commence the event begun, so we wear them around our wrists.

I was unaware of this required out fit. Aside the white shirt and scarf they gave me when I checked in, I don't have white pants and a sash. Also its tradition to spray sangria, champagne and flour at the ceremonies so the outfit you have is going to get pretty dirty. Considering the clothes I have in my bag (which is not many) are all the clothes I have to wear for a month, I choose the ultimatum to wear the handy speedo I bought in Madrid, and just buy pants when I get into Pamplona. What a surprise to you all this must be.....me in a speedo at an event involving thousands of people. I can't help that I'm comfortable with nudity...or at least partial nudity in this case.

I make one exit out of my tent and am immediately greeted with praise for my choice of wardrobe for the day. Let the flash photography begin.

Across from the bar, near the campsite, is a little grocery store stocked with the small town gas station essentials of food, snacks, toiletries and my favorite, of their inventory, 40's, boxes of sangria and 40's of red and white wine all for the wonderful price of 1.20 Euro (that comes out to about $2 American US.) This is the place where everyone gets their alcohol to take into the city. We load up, hop on the charter bus and into Pamplona. (about an hour bus ride)

We get the city and its blocks, upon blocks of white clothes and red sashes. This whole event, or tradition, has been going on since the medieval times.

We reach the meeting point for all the Fanatics. There are groups staying in hostels in San Sebastian, camping in Pamplona and hosteling in Pamplona. They all great me with more praise and photography. I jump into a store and buy some sangria, a "Running of the bulls sangria bladder", and a bottle of champagne.

Lynzy, Nicole and I find a bench so they can take a quick siesta while I stand and drink champagne in my speedo and people watch. (posing for the occasional photograph) A Crowd begins to gather as the ceremonies are about to begin. Theres a big stage with a concert. The announcer rats off something in Spanish, the crowd shouts some traditional chant or song, (then if I remember correctly a cannon my have fired) and the Running of the Bull begins. It is now a shower of sangria and champagne everywhere. The band starts playing and the dancing begins.

Lynzy, Nicole and I walk the streets, complete with drinks in hand. The celebration is amazing. Flowing sangria is everywhere, being consumed and worn by all. We walk the streets through the city of Pamplona. Theres not a corner we don't turn down that isn't filled with people. We get to a certain statue that has a certain significance to it. It's been a long standing tradition for people to climb this statue and dive off into the crowds below, not knowing if they'll catch you or not. A lot of the Aussies were partaking in this tradition. A few of them Fanatics and one in particular who did a back flip off the statue. The crowd didn't catch him and he ended up breaking his collar bone and splitting his head open.

We continue to explore the city when we come across a drum line marching down the street. We, especially me, begin to dance with them down the block. I immediately begin to Bernie my ass off. (for those who don't know what the Bernie is please see this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmVDmar9pkc) The crowd is getting a kick out of it. Just imagine, a drunk white American, Bernieing down the streets of Pamplona, Spain in a speedo....why wouldn't you take a picture!! And then of course I threw in a little "hand in my face" and some crip walk.

After dancing in the street, we stumble upon a break dance team performing in the streets for hundreds of people. Jumping, back flips, windmills and head stands. The crowds were going wild. They pulled five volunteers from the audience to line them up and do running, jump flying front flips over them. The performance ends and I'm all riled up and inspired by all the break dancing. Since I am not skilled in the art of break dancing in any way, I make due with a little trick I can do. A sitting hand stand. Thanks to my liquid strength I was able to go all the way threw with it and held it for a while......thats what she said.

We join all of our other sangria drenched camp mates to catch the buss back to San Sebastian. All the seats in the bus are covered in trash bags. We get back to the campsite and everyone hits the showers and a quick nap. Tomorrow morning we have to get up at 4:30 AM to run with the bulls. Pretty much all the campers stayed in the camp site. A big group of us hung out in the bar. A few Aussies, a couple of Brits, one Irish guy, the Fort Worth nurses, Lynzy, Nicole and I.

We're all teaching each other drinking games from where we all came from. I taught the game of "Bullshit", the Irish guy taught his version of "ring of fire" and the Aussies taught a fun chanting game called "Beer Goggles." I'm not going go into detail on how the game was played. but the fun part was, we all got to shout "FINGERS IN THE MIDDLE, FIDDLE WITH YOUR DIDDLE!" Pretty much the gist of it.

The group moves to the patio where we all chat bout our travels and where we come from. I make friends with a random group of French people camping else where on the grounds. They gave me all kinds of great advice for Paris and asking me questions about the U.S. the night nears an end and everyone heads to their tents for bed. Tomorrow I run with the bulls.

Day 7: Train To San Sebastia

Yesterday I went to the train station by myself to get familiar with it and to buy my ticket to San Sebastian. Took me about three hours of waiting for my number to be called. Booking my train to San Sebastian went pretty well. Pretty impressed with myself and how much Spanish I've picked up. Unfortunately my direct to San Sebastian was full so they got me a connect train through Victoria.

I head back to the house meet up with Kristin, who's been waiting two hours for me. We go to some Chinese food and call it a night. My train leaves at eight A.M. and I've got to be up at 5:45.

I awake in the morning, pack my bag and set out for the train station. I board the train on Via 11 (platform 11) and sit next to a mother and her daughter. The train ride was a great taste of the land of Spain. Each stop was completely different from the last. The train ride was about eight hours long. There was mainly a lot of Spanish country side at the beginning. I loved seeing all the Spanish churches and monasteries. They were a perfect illustration of how long these towns have existed and what each one has seen.

The landscape became more mountainous and scenic as we neared San Sebastian. I struck up conversation with the mother and daughter. I didn't catch their names, but the spoke Hebrew and English and were from northern California. They were on their way to Irun to go hiking but first meeting the daughters grandmother in San Sebastian. They asked me questions about the bull run, expressing interest to go watch.

I arrive at San Sebastian train station excited and eager to get to the campsite. I walk around the station a bit then walk outside to find Lynzy and Nicole sitting on a bench. They had been waiting there for a few hours. They lost and/or forgot all their information on what to do when we got to San Sebastian. Luckily I had some maps open on my computer from the Fanatics website. They also were watching the luggage of another man while he went to get his rental car. Apparently they scored us a free ride to the campsite from this man. Lynzy and Nicole are in the process of a move to Italy, but not before doing Paris, the bull run and a few other destinations. They have tons of luggage which I am still at a loss as to how they've been able to navigate themselves in Europe thus far. We've been coordinating a rendezvous for the bull run for a few months now.

A white VW Golf pulls up and out steps this 50 something, tall, grey haired man with coke bottle thick glasses. This is James. He's giving us a free ride to the campsite. We load the car down with all the girls luggage, barely getting the trunk door closed. James has been to San Sebastian once before so he takes us on a little driving tour up Mount Igeldo to view the city and the beach. Everything here in San Sebastian is gorgeous. Completely different from what I've seen in Madrid. The beach here is like a big cul-de-sac. In the middle its filled with anchored boats.

We finally arrive at our campsite with the Fanatics. Fanatics is a UK/Australian based tour company. Our campsite is in the mountains of San Sebastian, just outside the city. James pulls a creeper move and tries to get a camp site for the nigh so he can take us into Pamplona the next day. Luckily you had to make a reservation months prior to this event so James's attempt to hang around failed. We thanked him for his generous ride to the camp site and bid him good wishes on the rest of his travels.

We check in with one of the fanatics staff, get our sleep mats and tent assignments. We drop off our luggage in the tent and head to the bar located conveniently right next to our site! The place is packed full of Aussies. We have a few drinks then head back to the campsite to get our scarves, shirts and "sunnies" (sunglasses), as the Aussie's would say. There are about 30-35 people in our campsite. We meet our camp neighbors and some how they are from Fort Worth as well!! What are the odds? My other camp neighbors are a really friendly Aussie couple named Ben and Sam. I don't have a roommate just yet.

All the campers gather at the bus stop and catch the coach (bus) into town for tapas and to go to a bar called Tastas. The place we went to eat had award winning tapas. We head to Tastas after and its a party in the streets and in the bar. Inside the bar its packed shoulder to shoulder. I discovered a new favorite beer called Carlsberg. The whole bar was pretty much a bunch of Aussies getting drunk and there I am bustin dance moves. I don't remember much of the cab ride home. We return to the campsite. A few of us hang in the main tent before getting broken up by security and have to go back to our tents. Lynzy throws up outside and her tent, then everyone is off to sleep.

Day 6: Dry Hump of The Week

Side Note: I've been camping in San Sebastian since Tuesday with no internet connection. I got back to Madrid today and will be catching up with my posts each day at a time like I been doing. Been righting in my journal everyday just gotta transcribe it all onto here. Going on a day trip to Toledo with some fellow Fort Worth back packing nurses. Then off to Amsterdam on Sunday. Stay tuned for my experience in Pamplona.........its going to be intense!

We awoke this morning with few being hung over and me still being drunk. We pretty much just veged for the first half of the day. Finally everyone got some energy together and we set out into the city. Pablo wanted to take me around to see some of the sights I hadn't seen yet. Maggie, Pablo, Kristin and I went to Plaza de Mayor. It was a huge open court yard filled with street performers and tourists. After walking through the courtyard Pablo took us to San Miguel market for tapas.

Here in Spain it's a big thing to go eat tapas and drink cervezas for the evening. The word tapas is more of a concept, or idea, by definition. Basically its eating appetizers over beer or sangria. This tapas market was like nothing I've experienced on a culinary level. The market is nothing but gourmet style treats. I was in stuff my face heaven!

After trying different types of appetizers, we left the market and walked to a street patio restaurant where we ordered more tapas and cervezas. Patatas ali-oli, patatas bravas, some spicy pork and calamari. How it works is you pretty much pick off of one anthers selection.

After stuffing ourselves senseless, we walked to the cathedral. The cathedral was breath taking. I'd only seen stuff like it on television or movies, but to see something like that in person was just mesmerizing. I was transfixed with every little detail. AFter a very long walk through the cathedral we walked through some gardens. there were fountains, upon fountains surrounded with monumental statues of biblical and historical representations. We walk to a park where there is an Egyptian temple built along time ago. Apparently Spain helped build a bridge for the Egyptians along time ago and in return they built this temple as a thank you.

The park that surrounds this temple is beautiful, with all kinds of different trees and full of all kinds of young people. Groups of friends, couples, individuals laughing, lounging, reading, playing music, drinking and eating, practicing different sports and crafts. We actually stumbled upon a L.A.R.P. session. L.A.R.P. stands for Live Action Role Play. Basically people get dressed up (lets use medieval times for an example) in a theme and battle against others with padded weapons. Kristin and I were both more that ecstatic about finding these people.

The spot we chose to sit and relax was full of entertainment and events. To our right we had a couple drinking wine, eating jamon (cured ham) sandwiches and playing the guitar. In front of us was an asshole Spaniard harassing some poor, simple elderly people minding their own business. So here in Spain, P.D.A. is on steroids and its completely apart of the daily norm. That leads me to the left of us where we have a couple, or more specifically a boy mounted on top of his girlfriend, awkwardly dry humping her every 30 seconds. Along comes a Chino selling cervezas. We buy a six pack, sit back and enjoy this juvenile act of public dry humping. Like junior high kids we cannot contain ourselves laughing at this awkward scene. It's so awkward in fact, I secretly set my camera up to record all the greatness that is their dry humping. Finally the Black Eyed Peas song comes to an end. We pack up our little picnic and make our way into the area of Madrid that could be considered time square. Pablo and Maggie split to go home and Kristin and I venture into Chueca for a few drinks, watch a concert and catch the metro home.

So my time here so far knows no words of description. Everything about this place is so refreshing, new and stimulating. Theres never a dull moment but yet everything and everyone is so laid back. This place is intoxicating and I haven't even experienced the other parts of the continent yet. The people watching here is also great. I could find a city street patio restaurant, which are a dime a dozen here, eat tapas and drink cervezas all day.

Day 5: The Australian In A Speedo

We begin to pregame at the house before heading out to the parade. I meet Pablo, Maggie's boyfriend, for the first time. He's a thirty year old Spanish engineer. Maggie introduces him to Kraft Mac and Cheese. He wasn't a fan....I don't blame him. I ask Pablo if he'd like to shot gun a beer with me and he warmly accepts my invitation. Surprisingly he already knew how to shotgun and then kicked my ass doing it.

We leave the house and head for Chueca on the Metro. We're also joined by Kristin and Maggie's new roommate, that moved in two days ago. Her name is Clementine. An eighteen year old French girl thats interning with Absolute vodka for the month.

We get to Chueca and its awesome chaos everywhere. I've never seen so many people in my life. It's not just the city in attendance, but people from all over the world! Maggie and Kristin both requested that I be Australian for this evening, so of courseI agree. WE hop into a little convenient store to buy some coke, sangria and vodka. After, we pick a spot to stand, in the ocean of faces, and begin to pour our drinks.

I'm looking up at all the people in their apartment balconies and windows partying and drinking and dancing. My sight eventually reaches the balcony nearest to us and low and behold I already have an audience. First it was waves and smiles which then turned into them inviting me up. One of them comes down into the streets to invite me up to the apartment party. I don't want to be rude so I accept the invite and go up to the party. But not before turning to everyone I was with and saying "If you leave this spot I will destroy you all!" Well...maybe not exactly in those words, but they got the point. I go up to the apartment and theres a whole sailor themed party going on. All kinds of different foods and free flowing alcohol. (I stuck to my drink in hand)

The apartment was very nice and the balcony wrapped around a majority of it. I met the owners and a bunch of other people, but I don't remember any of their names. I go to the balcony to look down and wave to Kristin and everyone else. All of a sudden I turn around to bump into a friend of mine. Here I am in Madrid, Spain at this huge celebration, where I randomly get invited up to these really rich peoples apartment, where I'm pretending to be Australian, introducing myself as B.J. (Kristin and Maggie's doing) and the person I run into is from Sydney, Australia, who I met in Fort Lauderdale, knows I'm not Australian, knows my name and knows that I'm from Dallas, Texas. It was just all to comically ironic! I played if off really well though, so I wouldn't blow my cover. It was still so crazy to me how I can be nearly half way across the world and run into someone I know. But then again apart of me isn't that surprised because of how often it happens to me.

It begins to get uncomfortable there when the man who came down to the streets to get me is wanting to take me to a bathroom or some shit. I don't speak Spanish so all I can say is "MI PRIMA, MI PRIMA, MI PRIMA!" Pointing down to the crowd, "NO SEXO, NO SEXO!" Quickly apologizing, I dart to the elevators.

I return to the group in midst of the Parade. Bus after bus passes with tons of people on them. Each one representing a different sponsor of the celebration. The alcohol continues to flow and flow amongst the five of us. Night falls and we're all three sheets to the wind. I started off the parade in cut off jean shorts and a tank and by this time I'm down to the speedo I purchased the day before. Out of no where, Clementine lays one on me and doesn't hold back. (come to find out it was only Clementine's second time to drink....what an influence us American's are!)

The parade came to an end (but not the party) and the crowds start to break up. I then loose the group and am now standing in the middle of Chueca Madrid, drunk, in a speedo with thirty Euros in my crotch, a vodka coke in my hand in the middle of one of Spain's largest celebrations. A minor panic sets in after standing there for a few minutes searching the crowds for the familiar faces I came with. I quickly make my way back up to the apartment I was invited up to, to use their balcony as a vantage point. I scan the crowd and find Kristin and Clementine. They see me on the balcony and I gesture to them not to move.

Finally the group regathers and we start to walk around, drink more and continue on with all the celebrations. I don't know where the hell we are, but then again I never know where the hell I am here. While wondering around we bump into a group of Irish guys. We're all conversing with one another. Pablo gets a fast one pulled on him by one of them and Kristin gets voluntarily taken advantage of by another.

We get to the metro to head back home before it closes. On the subway Pablo pulls a scary one and passes out for a split second. What was scary about it was his head fell back along with his eyes rolling in the back of his head. He awakes not knowing what happened and we get to our stop. This evening was completely eventful, crazy, wild and a lot of fun!

Day 4: European Swim Suit

Jon just an FYI, there are Spanish speaking Asians everywhere here.

Yesterday I set out into the city again with Maggie. She had an errand to run for her work. We went to the department store to do a little browsing. Walking through the "men's fashion", as they call it here, we stumble across the swim suites where we find la speedos. Maggie immediately starts to push me into buying one. Since were going to a pool on Sunday, with men in speedos and topless women, and Rick Steves did say to try and be apart of the European way, I figure "Why not!" and purchase my first speedo. They aren't the stereotypical pair. They're black and look like little shorts. I wasn't about to go full on banana hammock.

We make our way back home but not before doing a little grocery shopping. I purchase some lunch meat and salad stuff so I don't have to go out and buy food all the time. We get home and its siesta time. As I nap, Maggie and Kristin both have classes to teach. We make plans to meet at the Alanso Martinez metro station at eight o'clock.

We rendezvous and go to an Irish pub called "O'Conors". Have a few beers over some good conversation, discussing the previous nights debauchery, then head to Chueca. Its pride week here in Madrid and Chueca would be considered the "gayborhood". We get to Chueca and its a party in the streets. Multiple concert stages, street side bars set up in front of every bar establishment. Whats different about Pride here in Europe compared to Pride in the states (or at least Dallas) is that EVERYONE, practically the entire city, goes. It's a huge festival here.

Bernise and Markos meet up with us. We have a few drinks in the streets, watch some of the performances and head home. Markos has a car so we all pile in like clowns and go home. Along with marijuana being decriminalized here, I think its safe to say that so are traffic laws. What a hell of a ride that was. Cars cutting you off left and right, people just walking out in front of you, speeds topping 100 mph.

Today is Saturday. Kristin, Maggie, Pablo (Maggie's boyfriend), Bernise, Markos, a few others and I are going to the Pride parade. It's supposed to be one of Madrid's largest celebrations of the year. There is an anticipated several hundred thousand people expected to show. We're all pre gaming at the house before hoping on the metro to Treca.

Miss you all back home. Hope you guys are doing well.

Day 3: Exploring The City and A Back Porch Party

(side note: apparently since I am in Spain and connected to a wireless signal, when I try to spell check it highlights every word I've written because its trying to read it in Spanish. So excuse my misspellings)

I awoke this morning feeling rested and ready to go. But I quickly realized, I don't know spanish and I don't know where I am. Kristin was already off to work. I wanted to go to Toledo so I began to look at maps and train tickets prices online. In the midst of debating on whether or not I should take on Madrid and Toledo on my own Maggie walks in the room. She told me she had some errands to run in the city. I asked if I could accompany her through the city and she gladly said yes.

We took the Metro to Retiro. Retiro Park was a visual treat for the senses. Walking down the gravel paths we saw joggers, young adults gathered in the shade under trees enjoying cervezas and sandwiches. The architecture of the buildings, statues and water fountains was like nothing I've ever seen. Everything around me was refreshing, peaceful and mesmerizing.

Actually before we went to the park we stopped for a quick walk through the archeology museum. Entering the museum we were greeted by two winged sphinxes. Inside we saw ancient Greek pottery and jewelry. Ancient Roman statues, Egyptian sarcophagus', medieval weaponry, ancient Sumarian sculptures and cuneiform.

Back to the park. We finally reached the Retiro pond. This pond was unlike any pond I'd ever seen. There was a half moon shaped structure of colums. The center of the half moon courtyard was a giant statue of a man on a horse, surrounded by statues of, what looked like, terquoise lions. In front of this whole monument, was the pond where there were several paddle boats of young adults sunbathing and picnicking on the water. Maggie and I sat down at a little cafe over looking the pond. We enjoyed some cervezas and food.

We ventured to Sol. Walking around Sol was entertaining to say the least. Apparently a few weeks, to a month, ago there were a bunch of protests. There were still protesters camped out in the center of Sol, around the base of another giant, man on a horse, statue. We saw a few street entertainers, then hunted down some Spanish prostitutes. Not to get any of course, but just to see what they looked like. Actually got to see a deal go down right in front of me.

After spectating prostitutes, I saw the nicest McDonald's I've ever seen....I still hate that place but I took a picture. I've also see Burger King's and KFC's and apparently they all sell beer.

Last night I got to meet Bernise, one of the French roommates. She's a very simple French woman with blonde hair and fair skin. She has a great sense of humor and is a participant in the "thats what she said" game. She joined Kristin, Maggie and I at a quaint patio restaurant down the street called "La Abuela." We enjoyed some sangaria, cervezas, patatas ali-oli (potatoes with ali-oli sauce) and jamon iberico (tosted bread with tomatoes and cured ham).

When Maggie and I returned home from our day adventure through Madrid, I got to meet Bernise's boyfriend Markos. He's about my height, skinny with glasses, a Spaniard and smokes cigarette's. He asked me if I liked disco's. (Apparently clubs, as we call them back home, are called discos here) I of course said yes. So I am now accompanying Bernise and Markos, along with a few others, out to a disco.

Tonight was one of the roommates last night in the house. Anna is the Russian roommate. She's blonde with fair skin. At first impression she's a tad intimidating, but I'm sure thats just the Russian in her. She is a sweetheart though! Cris, the Canary Island native, decided to cook dinner for everyone in honor of Anna's last night. She made these Venezualan bread cakes accompanied with chicken, cheese, and ham. You cut the bread cakes open and put meat and cheese in them to make a little sandwich. They were a tasty treat. Cris had her boyfriend and other friends over. The boyfriends name was Arturo and their friends, all Spaniards, were Ramon, Raquel and Danny.

The night started off with wine, champagne and cervezas. At the beginning it was a lot of them conversing in Spanish. Sidenote: since I have been here I have been trying to immerse myself in the Spanish language. So far I've spoken more Spanish than Kristin and Maggie and they've been living here since April! Anywho, here and there I would hear a few words I would recognize but for the most part I had no idea what the hell any of them were talking about. Luckily they all spoke some English, so when I did get to talk I could participate along with them.

Sunset then turned to night, the alcohol was flowing and the music was playing. It was nice to find out that they like a lot of the same music I do. Le chicas were dancing, a cigar was being passed around and Ramon tried to drink a bottle of wine that had turned to vinegar which he then threw up every where. Before dinner I had made a trip to the grocery store with Bernise and Markos to buy some cervezas. I purchased a small six pack for a special little occasion. After dinner and some drinks I then asked if anyone would like to shotgun a beer. They instantly all thought I was referring to fire arms, but none the less, they were interested and eager to learn this American and/or Texas tradition. I got about five or six of them to join me. Uno, dos, tres....they all loved it. After the shotgunning was finished you could hear nothing but burping for about the next five minutes.

We limboed, we line danced and we machataed. It was a full on back porch party. Well....then the liquor broke out and the shots began to pour. Russian vodka, Spanish gin...the works. At one point I fell backwards out of my chair, of course that is no surprise to any of you because thats a typical "me" thing to do. Alcohol flowed a bit too much so going to a disco was out of ze question. The night was incredibly fun and I'm more than ecstatic to have made so many new friends.