That Was A Straight-Up Hombre

Hola,

Danise left off prempting our relaxing evening and that it was. We spent two and a half hours on the Plaza Santa Ana where we ate tapas (tortilla, gazpatcho y melon con jamon). Danise had the local cerveza and I had the traditional Sangria. Yummers. Fue fantastico. We watched a flamenco street dancer and some other hot mess of a ... we can say interpretive dancer. That´s being generous. Dansie says he was "spazing for money"...and I´ll add..."with a boombox". It was a very pleasant and low 80s temp wise evening. Around midnight we strolled back to our hostel but our attention was caught by the sound of blues streaming from the bar across the way. We stopped in for a listen to a rockin harmonica solo and left soon after.

On Wednesday we woke early to take the train to Toledo, roughly a half hour away. The city is ancient medival with coblestone maze like streets. Not only are they narrow, but uphill, downhill, and not planned by a savy architect. Needless to say, it was easy to get lost and the Jackies ended up being useful for one thing: they told us to buy a map. Though beautiful, it was quite touristy.

The train drops us off at the bottom of the city and us fit girls decided to skip the bus and hike it! We climbed up a very large and steep hill and crawled up some stairs before we found ourselves facing a large stone keyhole entryway to the city. Entering Toledo was like a 3-D Lord of the Rings flashback. We hit all the main cultural attractions, el Catedral (one of the most beautiful gothic cathetdrals), el Synogoga (that was turned into a church (shocker) in the 15th century), el Alcazar, el Museo/Church de Greco and more.
We met up with Mike whom we have now deemed Mike Miguel or, Miguel for short, at the monestary de San Juan and off we went in search of damascene jelwery and lunch. Damascene is a local trade where craftsmen inlay strands of gold in black clay that is then baked to create a beautiful contrast of shiny gold and smooth black. Intricate designs are created at the disgression of the artist. It was hard to tell the difference between machine made and handmade jewlery but luckily we were in good company as this trip too, was full of interesting characters, best of all, Ramos.

Ok that´s actually his family name (appellido) but regardless, we found Ramos in his shop working on a damascene pendant. He kindly showed us his craftsmenship and in awe we asked him more questions about his work. Ramos was too friendly and helped me find some great pieces to bring home as gifts. His shop was his father´s who taught him the trade at three years old. Ramos senior was at home eating though and unfortuantely there is no Ramos the III...yet.

The rest of our Toledo excursion was great save the waitor at the tourist trap of a restruant we found ourselves at for lunch. Honestly, there were no pictures of their food, a daily menu, a nice place not in central location...we thought we picked well but maybe we were blinded by hunger. The owner/waiter was so rude that Miguel refused the desert (incldued in the menu del dia) a big F-you to the service (not to mention the grease-quality food) and we blew that pop-stand in search of a chocolate coissant for Danise, a marzapan for me, and an apple cake for Miguel.

Since it was a tad touristy for our liking, we didn´t take home much. Danise wanted to buy a full suit of armor and a daggar but it was too expensive. Shame because it looked good on her. Miguel was busy snapping artsy photos of the reflection of a subject. He kindly caught a relic and the back of Danise´s head while she took a similar photo. He also took a picture of the brilliant glare of the sun on an ugly metalic cafe table in the reflection of my sunglasses. Miguel is a funny dude and provided lots of humerous one liners throughout the few days we have gotten to know him. Best of all, he gives me a run for my euros in terms of being awkward, which makes Danise especially comfortable. We left Miguel in Toledo and caught the 7¨30 train back to Madrid.

We found El Catedral, a yummy eatery in a nearby neighborhood at the recomendation of a lovely woman Danise sat next to on the train. We were dying to try paella and apparently they served a pretty good one. Bummer that we encountered el numero dos of nasty waitors who snatched up our paella plate mid fork. Seriously...we knew that the service in Europe was very lax but we have been treated like common tourists too many times. It is getting very frustrating to say the least. Next time we´re sassing back...in Espanol! We salavged the evening with a nice stroll around town and encore of the blues band.

Thursday: We woke up to a roomfull of newbies sleeping above and around us. The wonderful and strange thing about staying in a hostel is that there is a constant flow of guests from every part of the world. This morning, we met a group of girls from Edinburough, Scottland and a woman from New Zealand, all very nice and two in matching tank tops (they copied us, mom!). Fortunately D.D. was gone and ironically had a complete personality makeover within an hour. When we got up to our room and found her sitting on one of the beds, she started talking about everything. For ever. Non-stop. She talked about what she was eating for dinner, where she bought the food and why, how she was preparing it, her concerns about showering (which was a 5 minute ramble I kid you not) her whirlwind trip, etc. etc. The girl wouldn´t shut up. Danise and I exchanged not so discreate looks of horor mixed with WTF and shared our disbelief and annoyance with the other girls in the hostel. During one of Deborah Debajo´s monologues I looked at Danise and suggested we change D.D.´s pseudonym to C.C. (Chatty Cathy). I like illiteration.

We spent the morning at the El Palacio Royal which was home to many royalty. This beautiful palace was constructed for the brilliant reasoning that Spain was, at the time, the only country in Europe that didn´t have a palace. We saw gorgeous, plush, upholstered rooms with huge chandeliers and elaborate decor. We also saw the collection of the king´s artwork which was also impressive.

Most entertaining was the courtyard between a church and the palace. Danise and I took a rest on a bench to snack on some fruit and listen to the acordian player who was serenading the line of tourists waiting to purchase tickets for the palace. The musician was a hot mess especially with respect to his eclectic repitoir. In one medly he incorporated Flight of the Bumble-Bee, a romantic-stroll-down-the-Champs Elysees tune and Hava Nagila that had a hint of Irish flare. I didn´t know if we were in Spain or at a multi-cultural bar mitzvah. Either way it was not working as evident by two police men that showed up. Finally, this nutter would be silenced! Silencio! But, the two police didn´t seem too disturbed and if I am correct in observing body language, they actually requested a song from the man. El Musician started up a new tune and the police, instead of taking out a ticket to write his confused-self up, bopped their heads along. Then tourists started taking pictures. That was our exit.

We spent the afternoon shopping on Arenal and Calle Mayor. The day was pretty glum but still warm. We walked by several men with stints similar to those you find in Times Square, Covent Garden, and Union Square. You know, the silver man, the indian man, the naked cowboy? Well we didn´t have a naked cowboy exactly. But we did find a man in a spedo frozen on a surfboard. It was disturbing but I had to give him props because he sure looked a hell of a lot more comfortable in the buff than some of the guys did who were decked out in full get-ups and make-up. Ohh the humanity.

Danise and I sauntered around town singing A Whole New World from Disney´s Aladdin and spent the rest of the afternoon shopping. Around four we bought chorizo, salami, manchaego, bread, apples and a red pepper for lunch. We decided to bring it back to the hostel to eat outside. Straddling a bench, we spread our delictables ready to feast when all of a sudden a grungy Jack Sparrow type took stopped short at our bench. "wooah" he said. "Right?" I responded, "Looks good huh?" And then we were stuck in. This cigarette inhaling greese ball planted his deranged self next to Danise and engaged in a lengthy conversation. Our stomaches desprately in need of manchego, we talked Camino de Santiago details (our future destination and his past) from his fucked up money problems (i.e. he has none) to the food he ate off others´ plates when they left (re: stole). Alistair was his name and after pondering what ever happened to Madeleine, the little girl from Portugal who was "stolen in her sleep" whose likeness was pinned to his lapel, we said good bye. For some reason Alistair, the dishonest creep that mostly likely comes with the territory (oyey Lili) reached for a piece of chorizo "just one before I go?" Stunned Danise and I stared at each other and yelled "no!" And, then he started begging. "Just one, just one little one? Please?" His gruby dirty hands were so close to the meat I was afraid we would have to hose down the goods before consumption. I was ready to slap his hand away and Danise and I exclaimed "we bought that! That´s our lunch! It´s ours!" Upon realizing we girls weren´t about to be pushed around he claimed he was just joking and left us. You can´t swindle us yo.

Seconds later another man came up to us and asked us if we were selling our cheese. We packed up our food and went to eat in the hostel courtyard. Men.

Us chiquitas are having a rough time when it comes to the fellas. In Toledo we were cat called too many times, most surprisingly by some men working above us on a building who could see only the tops of our heads. We thought about commenting on their zepatos guapos (hot shoes). The other night while Danise and I were looking for a particular streeet, a man who wanted to help us find our way also wanted to kiss our cheeks and give us a less than platonic hug. We did interact with one fashonista, decked in stiletos and skinny jeans who treated us like the ladies we are. According to Miguel, "he was a straight-up hombre" or gender-bender (shout out Bill y Cassie!) which means I can´t necessarily generalize all local men as skeazy.

Much love,
MK


We really digged the Grafitti in Toledo. Below are some model pics. I think we can go pro. Madeleine