Tuesday May 10 (give or take one day),
I can't believe I am already sitting in a hostel (http://bit.ly/jQo8SJ) right next to el Puerta del Sol. Just three (I think) days ago, I made the red-eye car ride from Chapel Hill after my last exam so I could spend as much time in Atlanta as possible. Ten hours in the air, a misguided cab ride and aimless wondering through the streets of Spain later, we reached the lovely Hostal RC Miguel Angel.
A little before 1300 (they use military time here; I'm adapting), I met Jorge in Hartsfield Jackson International Airport. The flight to Newark was a quick one and the connection over to the international gate was frighteningly easy. If only Spain were as easy to navigate as the airport moving sidewalks were... Jorge and I told the cab driver, "¿Señor, conoce el Hostal Miguel Angel?" ("do you know the Miguel Angel Hostel?), "o si si, lo conoce bien," he confidently responded. Twenty euros later, our cab stood before a 5-star hotel. This couldn't be right. Turns out, the Occidental Miguel Angel is by no means the RC Miguel Angel and not a soul around knew how to help us - perhaps because our desired hostel was on the other side of the city. We were able to hop on the Metro without much trouble and eventually found our hostel fairly simply. Although the quarters are a bit clustered, they in no way resemble the mental image I had formed after hearing mom's near apocalyptic descriptions. The sheets are clean, the bathroom is small but manageable, and we have a lovely view overlooking the calle. We met up with Shannon, Hillary and Colin, ate a light lunch, bought our first Spanish jamón and then enjoyed a nice siesta nap. It is currently 1900 local time, although I would not be surprised at all if someone told me it was Wednesday or Thursday afternoon. I look forward to seeing what Madrid has to offer before we catch the train to Sevilla!
More from me later.
"And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong / I'm right where I belong" - The Beatles
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