My second night in Spain was actually able to eclipse the greatness that was our first night in my eyes. Our tour guide, whom by the way will have a significant role in a later story, had suggested that the group attend a Flamingo dancing lesson. The ladies were all over this idea. The fellas, however, had other ideas in mind. We informed the group of leaders that we were worn out from all the traveling and were going to rest for the evening at the hotel. Shortly after the group had left on their journey to dance like Flamingos, our plan was set into motion.
The three musketeers had decided to tour Madrid on their own and experience all that the culture had to offer. Essentially, this meant consuming numerous alcoholic beverages and immersing ourselves in the Spanish nightlife. The plan was immediately put into fruition as we found ourselves a nice little dive bar, and began putting the wheels in motion. This was a small bar that consisted of only a few tables. They served pizza and of course the most important component, liquor. Granted 2 of us were actually not 18 years of age, but the bartender did not seem concerned with this so everything worked itself out. The pizza was consumed, many drinks were had, and the night was starting off with a bang. At that point we realized that none of us had brought any money to pay for these luxuries. I took it upon myself to retrieve the necessary funds to cover our expenses. When I have consumed the sauce, I suddenly gain bounds of energy and can often be found bouncing around. This time was no different. I sprinted the entire way back to the hotel only to realize that I hadn't brought a hotel key with me. Therefore, I needed to sprint back, and do it all over again. Eventually I was able to gain access to the dough in our room, and return to the scene of the crime.
Upon once again arriving at the bar, I was greeted with an odd sight. One of my buddies was playing soccer outside with the children of another bar patron. Keep in mind that we were clearly not in the right state of mind at the time. Apparently that did not matter to this man as he seemed perfectly fine with this occurring. Also, this was at about 11 in the evening, and it seemed odd to see small children playing soccer with drunk fools at a bar at that hour. Inside, my other buddy had started quite the banter with the bartender. I entered the door and joined in on the fun. It was an amazing experience. Suddenly, it seemed that we could speak fluent Spanish. Many topics were discussed with the Spaniards at this bar, including soccer, R.E.M., and America. It felt as if I had learned everything from the Rosetta Stone disks in a matter of an hour. Granted, we were drunk so it is very likely that we were actually butchering the language. However, the bartenders seemed to understand what we were saying, and it all felt natural.
At some point we realized that it was about time to head back to the hotel before the group returned from their excursion. Somehow we successfully returned to our hotel and at that point we had more plans in mind. One of the trio had mentioned our first day in Madrid that he had seen some very attractive "Belgian" girls arriving around the same time we had checked into the hotel. It seemed to be a similar student travel group to ours, but apparently made up of Belgian hooligans. We found it in our best interest to explore this further and bang on their door to see if we could attract their attention. After unsuccessfully attempting to make contact with them for about 20 minutes we found it fruitless and returned to our room where we passed out.
Wait, the story does not actually end there. The three of us had sunken into an apparent comatose state at that point. This was evident as when the girls returned from their dance of the Flamingos they had proceeded to pound on our door for many minutes. Panicked by the fact that we were not responding to their bludgeoning of our hotel door, they went downstairs to retrieve an extra key to our room. The front desk at the hotel must have been on high alert, because they simply handed an extra key to these ladies. They proceeded to storm into our room, and wake us all from our drunken stupor. I still have photos of that scene, as apparently the ladies decided to pick up our cameras and begin a photoshoot. One of the musketeers could barely open his eyes. The girls forced water down each of our throats despite our pleas that it was unnecessary. Therefore we were awakened, when in reality we could have had quite the peaceful sleep that evening.
The next day we met these exotic Belgian ladies that were down the hall from us. After speculating about these mysterious Belgians for the past couple of days, we learned that they were in fact high school students from Philly. Not much different than our initial observation of the situation in my opinion. We held an intellectual conversation amongst ourselves, and then proceeded outbound for the next city in our tour. That next day was not very kind to me, as I was still clearly liquored up that entire morning during bus ride to Sevilla. Upon arriving in Sevilla we explored many great landmarks in the town. Things had begun to turn for me as the alcohol was wearing off, and I was progressively becoming more nauseated. This day was apparently intended to torture me as it included climbing 100 floors of steps in a tower. The day was capped off with a visit to Christopher Columbus' tomb where I uttered a line to my friend that still lives in folklore whenever we see each other. "Dude, I think I'm about to vomit on Christopher Columbus' tomb." Luckily, this did not occur and I was able to maintain my cool. I continued to do so even when our Spanish teacher's husband lifted my hat and stared me dead in the eyes, as I sat slumped on the street while the class visited the markets around them. I was clearly still out of it at the time, and I think he suspected something was amiss. However, I played it cool and stared right back at him until he blinked and moved on. A very successful tactic had been employed. I had simply out-willed him. Thus concludes my second Spanish adventure. More installments to come in the near future...