In Spain, McDonald’s doesn’t smell like aggressive amounts of high cholesterol with subtle undertones of streak mark underwear. The McFlurries are infinitely better and they offer potato wedge fries. America, step it up.
We arrived in Granada yesterday after a whirlwind 64 hour (3 nights, 2 days) trip to Madrid. All of us were shocked at how much we loved this city; we were heartbroken to be leaving so soon. For the next four and a half weeks, we’ll be having class from 9:30 am – 2:00 pm, with a 30 minute “coffee break,” or “nap time,” as Tessa and I like to call it, somewhere in the middle. Thankfully, we have weekend trips planned to Ibiza, Sevilla, Córdoba, and Málaga to break things up.
While in Madrid, I discovered that not only am I a history junkie, but also an art groupie. Well, maybe not a groupie, because I really don’t know anything about “stylistic content” or the “historical significance” of a piece of artwork. Either way, I know a good Jesus painting when I see one. And the Museo del Prado and Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía are full of them. I could have spent hours wandering around both, plus a full day staring at Picasso’s La Guernica.
The people and culture in Madrid are equally as exciting as its history. We found ourselves in the middle of the Pride parade and celebration in the heart of the city, at some dive bar deep in the Chueca district, wandering around a 7 story club, getting kicked out of said club’s karaoke floor for singing “Mr. Brightside” too loudly, walking around Plaza Mayor and Puerta del Sol, and finding peanut butter at the supermarket. Clearly, the peanut butter was a highlight.
While our first night in Granada was rather underwhelming – we used a paper map to try and find dinner, ending up in a sort of dodgy part of town – we’re keeping a positive mindset and trying not to stress out our teacher, Adelmar, too much. And learn some Spanish while we’re at it.