*European Approaches to Disability*

With the museum pass, I've been trying to take in as much culture (and inflicting as much walking on my legs) as I can.

Saw a couple of art museums yesterday where the big thing was the local artists:


Vazquez


and

Goya

Today, I saw the Royal Palace (no pictures...sorry) and the Museum for the Blind. Perhaps it's just off my radar, but I don't know if there is anything in the U.S. that can compare to the Madrid's Museum for the Blind, a place where the blind are given the opportunity to know what some of the major landmarks of the world "look" like.





I think it has something to do with the European attitude of being more cognizant of those with disabilities. The Museum for the Blind is the best example I have found, but most definitely not the only example where Europe is light years ahead of the U.S. and almost everywhere else in terms of social services for those with disabilities.

Even those who are not disabled, but disadvantaged are treated to more respect and attention. In London, I remember that most of their cultural experiences and theaters had a concession entry fee, which not only referred to student tickets, but unemployed tickets as well. It seems that Europe has a much easier time realizing that the arts, culture, and in the case of the Museum for the Blind, accomplishments of mankind, are not only for those who can pay full price, or find their own way - unassisted, to the event.

I wouldn't mind a little more of that kind of thinking in the States.

Getting by with the Vocabulary of a Two Year Old (part 2)

We got museum passes today. Not for individual museums, but a 72 hour pass for every museum in Madrid.

Legs are still a little sore from yesterday's debacle trying to get to Toledo, but I decided to go to two art museums today.

On good advice, I went to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum first. It was great advice because the place wasn't overpowering with a bunch of paintings with no description for people who have no idea about art or art history. It is set up chronologically and was a lovely time.

After that I went to Spain's National Art Museum, the Prado. Overpowering. Portrait after portrait of dead guy (pardon the lack of respect, but eventually you stop paying attention to painted faces).

Saw the paintings that I needed to and went to the restroom before I decided to leave. While I was in the stall, two high pitched voices started to yell into the bathroom. Thinking it was a couple of boys, I didn't pay them too much mind.

As I left the stall, I startled the two cleaning ladies, as well as myself. They started talking to me, scolding me with a finger, and seemed pretty upset to be in the bathroom while I was occupying it, but I thought they were kids...not that I knew how to tell them that.

I just said "pardone" and left after washing my hands. Oops.

The Man from la Marcha

It's been a long day...and the legs don't want to work anymore, but I made it through and had a good time (for the most part) and survived to write about it.

"So I got that going for me...which is nice."
-Caddyshack

First off, I woke up early to take down my laundry that was hanging up cause the dryers in the hostels...um...are sub par. Not wanting to wake anyone else up, I obscured my personal light with my pillow. After about a minute I started to wonder what the smell was because I knew that there wasn't a toaster in the building...only to realize the small holes that where being burnt into my pillow case by the light. Yup, I almost burnt the place down. When things like that happen within the first hour you're awake, you know your in for a tough day.

The plan was for the whole group to meet at the train station and go to Toledo today. I, being a self-assured world traveler, made my way to the train station on my own, taking a short cut I had figured out. When I got there, nothing looked familiar, and I didn't see any of the group...at which point I realized that my
ingenious self had figured out a shortcut to the wrong rail station...and that I was missing my train to Toledo.

It's happened many times before and will happen many times to come, but today, I was kicked in the butt by arrogance.

Making my way to the phone, I called up the group leader, Charlie, and told him about my screw up. Understandingly, he told me that I had a return ticket waiting for me with the group and to make my own way to Toledo. Which was nice of him.

Getting to the correct train station, I started through the process of trying to get a ticket...having been spoiled by how nicely, and quickly, (and Englishly) they had treated me in Barcelona, the Madrid ticket-buying experience was a little more terse. After waiting for an hour...I finally got my train ticket, only to realize that the train was leaving in five minutes and I didn't know where the departures left from. I found it though, and got on with a whole minute to spare, and felt all the troubles of missing trains, running around Madrid from station to station, and lines for tickets melt away...I was on my way to Toledo: Moorish Medieval city of Spain - and home to...


Don Quixote




Sorry...but the two guys on the left look like they're in the Wu-Tang Clan...I think it's RZA and Inspecta Deck. Mom and dad: I know you don't understand that joke, but trust me, it's funny.





All the streets were like this.





After all of it, I can assure you, my legs are ready to fall off...and I wasn't to happy about things for that hour in the Train station...but all in all, it was a pretty good day.

El Rastro De Madrid and More Cowbell!!!

Heard about a massive street market called El Rastro (the trail) so a couple of us went to check out this morning...


Great stuff...Great prices. A great time!

...but the big find of the day couldn't be bought. As we got to the southern end of the market we started to hear drum beats...this is usually where I wish I was alone, because I don't want to drag people anywhere they aren't interested in, but we went to see what was making all the racket anyways...and we were all glad we did. The coolest street music I have ever seen.









After the first segment, the whole group paused and grabbed a bunch of cowbells.


I guess they had a fever, and the only prescription...was more cowbell.


Nice to see someone smile while they play music...something that doesn't happen enough, I figure.

A Saturday Morning Stroll Through Parque Del Buen Retiro

After the travel plans for the group to go to Toledo got postponed this morning, everyone kind of scattered and I, myself ended up at Retiro Park: a lovely and HUGE park in the middle of Madrid, where I was moved to take some pictures. I’m sure there would be more if it was summer and there were leaves on the trees, but my walk was lovely, regardless.

*Theft in Madrid*

As opposed to London and Stratford, Madrid is a little less developed. This is not to say that Spain is backwards or that Madrid isn’t a thriving city; I just mean that there are more elements on the streets that seem a little seedy. Walking the streets, I generally feel safe, but there have been a couple times, while exploring the city, that I have gotten the distinct impression that I wasn’t wanted in the neighborhood: not a problem with me…if I’m not wanted, I leave.

The less desirable elements have made themselves known to the group as a whole as well. We have had two thefts so far. One was a straight up pickpocket; the other was a little more brash. As a small group of the students were trying to check into the hostel, apparently, someone from the street came in with them and picked up one of the bags – and simply walked out with it.

When the hostel clerk was told about it, he was amazed that the students had been speaking English outside the hostel and making targets of themselves.

Hard way to learn that it’s a good idea to shut the heck up once in awhile…but I don’t want to sound like they the victims deserved it. Some replaceable stuff was stolen, but everybody still has there passport, and that’s what’s important.

Unfortunately, the two thefts served as great reminders to everybody that we are all in a foreign land and that even those of us that speak Spanish, don’t speak “Spain” Spanish. We are traveling, and traveling can be a real hassle sometimes.

One last note: there are several people who love me that read this and I need you to know that I am taking every precaution and am being as safe as possible.

*"Dirty Cities"*

In class the other day, we were asked what we thought of Madrid. One of the students replied that it was dirty. To which some of the more open-minded individuals in the group took issue with.

She didn't mean it in a derogatory manner...I think she just meant that the buildings and the streets here have a little more of a darker tinge than she's used to.

Well...that's what happens when you don't make it a practice to tear down a building after it's been up for only a little while (relatively...I'm talking decades as opposed to centuries here).

Reminded me of when I took a tour of Sun Studio in Memphis. (If you're not in the know, Sun Studio is a landmark where Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Ike Turner and most importantly (to me, at least) Johnny Cash got there start.) The tour guide, a rock-a-billy dude with pork-chop sideburns and rolled up jeans, remarked about how hard it was to keep the city from tearing down some of the old buildings where all that great music, and all the great music that came before it, took place.

I guess my point is that it seems to me that weathered, worn, and "dirty" buildings seem somehow more livable than brand new, freshly-made, industrial buildings. I imagine I would be in the minority with that opinion, as far as Americans go, and I by no means what to give the impression that all building and construction of anyting should stop. I just wish there was a little more respect for the older things (with the exception of the Metrodome) we have in the United States, or at least a willingness to let some of the things we have created get a little older.

As far as Madrid goes, it doesn't strike me as dirty in the least...lived in, maybe. The smell from the fish market down the street turns my stomach, and there's more graffiti than I'm generally used to, but the idea that this is a dirty city doesn't wash (no pun intended). There is virtually no rubbish in the streets due to street sweepers constantly roving the city, picking up small bits.

Personal Message

I HEREBY PROCLAIM FEBRUARY 22ND TO BE ALLISON DAY!!!

If you know her, send her a message telling her how amazing she is.

Gracias.

*Getting By with the Vocabulary of a Two-Year-Old*

I send a postcard to the wife-ish everyday. (I don't like the word fiance. It sounds like one is still leaving themselves a way out of the marriage. Therefor, I use the term wife-ish.)

I hadn't realized the how hard it was going to be getting by in a foreign language. I figure I have about 6 to 10 Spanish words in my vocabulary, which, I imagine, is about what a two-year-old knows.

So just imagine trying to go to the post office (well, first think how hard it is to find a post office) and buy stamps.

*For all of you who are thinking I'm ignorant for not learning the language of the country that I was going to...um...you're right*

You figure out ways not to look like a complete idiot, though. Showing the gentleman the postcard and pointing to the space where the stamp would go, and then pointing to the address that said "U.S.A." on it worked well until I realized that he would want to know how many I wanted. I needed twelve, but I don't know the word for twelve...so I said eight (ocho) and I'll just go back for the other four (quatro) later. Seems pretty simple, but I felt like an absolute genius to at least come up with a plan.

I'm sure there will be a part two of this story, as my misadventures through the Spanish language will, no doubt, continue.

Barcelona to Madrid

Have a little bit of a travel hangover here and falling behind on my activities. Please bare with me. The night train to Madrid was not as bad as it could have been, but not especially great, and after the long day of sightseeing in Barcelona, I was really starting to feel my miles.

After another chapter in the story of walking up and down streets looking for hostels, I found the place I was looking for thinking that I would just drop off my stuff, since the group wasn't supposed to get there until 4:00 in the afternoon. Luckily, they spoke English and generously, they let me check into a room.

Not a bad place...definitely the first hostel that we've stayed in where they weren't trying to nickel and dime everyone constantly.

Still recouping after my trek...and we're going to be here for a while, so I haven't seen too much. No pictures yet. Will get out and see the sights soon...but just trying to take care of and catch up on business for now.

Barcelona Part 2 (Sagrada Familia)

After making my way down the hill, I was starting to get a bit tired, so I grabbed a burger and coffee and headed for the metro.

On good advice I visited the Sagrada Familia by Gaudi. Take a look:











The Sagrada Familia has two sides, a facade on each,

This is the Nativity Facade:









God Bless the Shepards.


All pretty nice, until you get to the Roman Soldiers

Then...there's the Passion Facade:







Can't get much more Goth than that, no matter how black your eyeliner is...



...and that was what I saw in Barcelona. I figured I could try and race through the town seeing everything that I could, or I could see two major things and spend my time devoted to them. I think I made the right choice.

Will update on the trip to Madrid tomorrow.

Barcelona Part 1 (Montjuic)

Waking up in complete confusion as to where you are is not the greatest way to start of your day, I assure you…but it got better in a hurry: the ear had equalized and the bed was as comfortable as the one I slept in at the Watergate Hotel in D.C. (which was a LOT more expensive and had pretty much been the benchmark for comfortable beds in my mind).

Getting an decently early start (considering how hard I had traveled the day before) I left the hostel and struck out to see Barcelona…the city so amazing, Freddie Mercury wrote a song about it.


First was the business: get to Sants train station, active the Eurail Pass we got for the trip, reserve my seat for the train to Madrid leaving at 10:00 that night, and ditch my bags. After that was taken care of, I struck out.

My handy-dandy little fold-out map (yeah I bought one – so what) showed a large park on top of a mountain with a castle and all kinds of other stuff on it south of where I was called Montjuic. This seemed like a good enough place as any to start my twelve hours in Barcelona. I struck south. (By the way, if you’re going to travel, especially in the older cities of Europe, bring a compass.)

I realized that I hadn’t eaten since the apple I had had before I boarded the plane in London, and stopped at the first place I saw that I could afford. A little pizza shop that was completely unoccupied. After I narrowly avoided buying a whole pizza with my limited use of the word “uno” (I meant one slice, he wanted to sell the whole pizza), I continued toward wherever I was heading (south I guess).

After a five minute walk I found this:


Barcelona Plaza

...and this:


The National Art Museum (Front)


The National Art Museum (Back)

A little short on the Euro for right now, so I moved on to see what else I could see, but before I did that I marveled at the view:



Continuing up the mountain, trying to find that castle, I stumbled upon the remnants of the Olympics, I didn’t take a picture of the stadium because it didn’t really seem all that interesting, but here are some things from the (96?) Olympics that I remember from TV that I now have seen in real life.







Found all kinds of interesting stuff, but the castle was eluding me, until I found the one side road that seemed to go up the way that I wanted to go. Following the road, I noticed a footpath that lead off over a hill on the left. My logic being that a footpath is meant to be walked on, I followed it and guess what I found over that hill…




Yup…that would be Barcelona Harbor and the Mediterranean Sea. A heck of a thing to stumble upon.

The trail ended and I backtracked to the road that was supposed to lead to the castle, but at this point I was getting tired of going up hill. Finally I found it:






Castell De Montjuic

Not so much a castle as much as a fortress looking over the sea facing the southeast. The Castell De Mantjuic was built in 1799 and is now pretty much a very pretty running path:



Making my way down the mountain I got some great views of the city…





…and I found a nice little backway down.







…there’s more to come, but that will do for now.