Day 106: or The Day of Futbol

I woke up this morning to the sound of the buzzer announcing our landlady. We had set a 9:00am checkout since we needed to leave by 9:30. Obviously, we over slept. We through everything in our bags and said adios to Barcelona. We had a great time, but we had one more night in Madrid. We were all tired but knew we had to take advantage of what little time we had left. The train back was horrendous. I managed to sleep, but with a bum hip, it was near to impossible to get comfortable. I don’t think I slept more than 15 minutes at a time. The train to Barcelona had been quiet and peaceful. The train back to Madrid was unbelievably loud. Not only was everyone talking, they were talking in their outside voices. Honestly, the fidgety babies next to me were no problem compared to the 70 year old Spanish women yelling across the coach.

When we got to Madrid, we were staying at the same hotel so there were no complications. I called my Dad who I knew had landed in Spain, to make sure everything was set for my arrival. We talked on Skype with the girls listening in. My Dad has a very specific way of talking on the phone. All voicemails start and end the same way and all conversations invariably follow the same format. I was happy to have the girls over hear the things my Dad feels the need to discuss. Some necessary, some not so necessary. At one point he started to let me know what he would be wearing when he came to the airport to meet me. In case I forgot what he looks like? The man loves details. Believe me, I’m in no way making fun of someone else’s communication style. If anything, I’m pointing out that my talkative nature didn’t come out of the blue. After everyone checked in at home we walked to Plaza Mayor and watched the street performers and ate lunch. We fought off the post lunch lull by walking around the Palace and through the Gardens next to it. On our way back to the hotel, we found a chocolateria that Marisa has recommended. We grabbed chocolate y churros and ate until we were sick. No longer able to fight off the siesta, we headed upstairs for a couple of hours. I didn’t manage to actually sleep, between catching up on my blog and making sure everything was in order for my trip tomorrow. At around 9:30pm, we headed out to an Irish pub to catch the Real Madrid vs. FC Barcelona soccer game. We first stopped off at a pita restaurant for sustenance but the game was on there too. I think the game was on everywhere. When we got to the pub, there was a huge crowd, split down the middle between the two teams. We watched the game and it ended in a tie. I love soccer, but ties are lame. All that work, and there was no real winner. I understand that it still matters, but having a winner would have been nice. We headed back after the game and I prepared to leave once again.