Third Year Abroad

By LittleLots

Woke up to a rather wet and cold Madrid late the following morning, well so late that it no longer really counted as morning. But we eventually made it out of the hostel and on to the Reina Sofia, via Atoche of course to see the indoor jungle and the turtles and an Italian place for lunch. I thought I heard the waiters speaking Italian, but by the look of confusion on his face when I ordered I was mistaken. Either that or my Italian is truly a lot worse than I thought. Finally made it to the Reina Sofia, where I desperately tried to remember my way around the maze of rooms, all the corridors look the same! But managed to find Guernica and the room of live parrots so thought I did a passable job of it.

Having done our culture for the day, we headed back into town and Jess, Helen and I went in search of somewhere to buy tights having finally admitted to ourselves that its just too cold to go barelegged. This meant that I was left in charge of directions so inevitably we got lost. Well not so much lost, we just walked in exactly the opposite direction. I blame Helen and her 'your sense of direction not nearly as bad as you think' comment. But we did make it back after stopping off in a plaza for waffles, being enticed in by the heaters and fur coated seats.

The evening was inevitably taken up with more drinks, starting in the communal area of the hostel which seemed to be overrun with guys trying to breakdance, before moving on to, yep you've guessed it, another Irish pub. Actually the place I went to last time I was in Madrid(La Fontana de Oro), but this time we went and sat downstairs which has a bizarrely church-like feeling. Then it was off in search of a club, although none of us having any idea where to go we had to rely on the endless supply of promoters to point us in the right direction. Of course the definition of 'right' changed with every new person you met. We ended up at Joy, one of the bigger clubs in Madrid and conveniently nearby. Definitely a lot bigger than any of the Granadan clubs and more expensive, but this was to be expected. Perhaps the more confusing thing was the raised stage with the dancing smurf and transvestite. I'm curious to know exactly what was going on in the manager's mind when he thought 'I know exactly what this club is lacking....'

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