Adventures of a Ginger: "I remember my first beer..." Day 1

Amsterdam in Spain and creepy Jack Sparrow

Madrid. You. were. incredible. Words can't describe the amount of fun I had this past weekend, how often I laughed hysterically, danced until cankles were present- (yeah, I didn't need to point out my own since Jenn was rocking a pair..) slept seven hours in two nights and met some really amazing people. Saturday morning came early- 5:15am wake up call to take the bus to Schipol for my flight at 8:55am.. I had no problem getting up, although the bags under my eyes indicated otherwise, I was absolutely psyched for my first trip to Spain with three awesome friends. I was traveling two hours earlier then the rest, so I was solo for a couple of hours after arriving into Madrid, but no worries- I simply found the terminal I needed to meet them at, purchased a can of Spanish beer, and headed out into the hot, sunny midday to enjoy getting some form of color while I waited. Simply killing two birds with one stone. My fellow Amsterdamer's arrived, and we were off to the hostel via "Mama Jenn" who basically can find any location, in any direction, without any help, in possibly any country. She should be a tracker. We were off to the metro, where she already knew the route, the stops, the changes of direction.. perfect, that means the rest of us could slack off and play around while she led the way.

On a side note, public displays of awkwardness. It is not okay, while on the metro, or anywhere else to be honest, to dig into your nose and then wipe whatever you have on the poles that people hold onto. Seriously, if I see you do it once, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt- maybe you are suffering from temporary insanity. But if you do it three times, I'm going to stare inappropriately and talk very loudly about personal hygiene and why it is absolutely disgusting. Sometimes a rant is necessary. First impressions are key.

Hostel bunk beds

We arrived in the Puerta del Sol square around two, and began looking for the hostel. It was a recommendation from a friend of Jennifer's who also went to Carolina, Sam, but presently teaches English in Spain. Personal tour guide of sorts. We walked up and down the street, looking for number 16, once, twice, (did I mention this was my first time staying in a hostel and I was already slightly intimidated prior to the missing address?) As usual Chris and I were prowling for alcohol, Alex making inappropriate jokes and Jennifer consulting blackberry navigation. After the third unsuccessful loop, and the professional tracker not being able to locate the destination I became a little panicked. . And ta-da number 16, although it's no surprise we didn't see it the first 2544 times.. it was a lone door, heavy wood, very indiscreet. We buzzed the hostel and they opened the door.. as we walked into the entry, the jokes began about the "decor" and general cleanliness.. the jokes ceased after we walked up six flights of steps, breathing heavily, luggage in hand. Chris muttered under his breathe he was going to inflict physical harm to the person who recommended this little spot to Jennifer, who happened to be Sam.. We checked in, checked out the spot, talked to a few foreigners, bought a warm 1euro beer from the clerk and were off for lunch, preferably tapas! The front desk clerk recommended a place.. and he was spot on, after a twenty minute walk with, big surprise, Jennifer leading the way we found an absolutely packed tapas bar. For 6euros we had a massive beer, and a plate overflowing with delicious spanish tapas per person. It was heaven, so good in fact, we came back the following day with new British friends, Ash and Owen. After lunch we headed to meet Sam, who was going to show us around for the afternoon, which proceeded into the evening.. Went to a beautiful park in the middle of Madrid, similar to that of Central Park- rented boats, which resulted in the girls having to row much more than we thought acceptable. At some point of the afternoon, Sam mentioned there was a Taco Bell in the city.. I'm not a huge fan of T.B but Jennifer and Alex apparently have a deep rooted love for the American fast food chain. You'll never guess where we had dinner at? Oh yeah. Taco Bell. In Spain. After a quick alcohol run, shower, and pre-game at our hostel, we were off to find the nightlife of Madrid. As many people may know, Spaniards are known for their siestas and their long, late nights out. Literally, it's a city very similar to Amsterdam- not a lot of sleeping, a whole lot of dancing and partying. We left the hostel around midnight (keep in mind fellow Americans, in the States it would be one hour and forty five minutes till last call..) however, in many European countries, bars or pubs stay open until the very wee hours- 5am or later. We went to a couple really great bars, dancing, drinking and exploring the city. 630am bedtime for night number one.