Bedrooms, meetings with friends, and waste of time orientation days

Heyhey!

I spent yesterday with friends from Reclaiming Spain and people I met at the goddess conference in Glastonbury last July, who were in Madrid to complete their Iberian priest/ess training, taking part in ritual with them then going out for Chinese afterwards. They talked a tad too fast but it was nice to see some familiar faces at last :). 

Today I got up at daft o'clock to travel the length of the city to sit through a total waste of time orientation day. It got to the point where they were about to give an hour long lecture about a pack I've got downloaded on my desktop and have already read, (the rest of the day consisting of a 'my experiences of the year abroad' talk, also the equivalent of which I've already sat through, and the distribution of documents I can get elsewhere anywho), so I just gave up and went home.

Still, first day of work tomorrow, but in true Spanish style it's more like a 'meet and greet', and I was told by the teacher 'not to worry because we've got a few days preparation before we go into the classroom.' Oook. Sounds piss easy :P.

Bedroom photos, as promised:

The rain in Spain does not stay mainly on the plane

Today it fell mostly on me, and apparently will continue to do so for the rest of the week. I didn't come to Madrid for this weather! Oh well.
I'm sorry folks, no pictures yet (I forgot, also I've only just finished furnishing the room.) I'm in a flat with a guy from Reading also doing the British Council program, but we haven't got Internet until the other two rooms are filled. The last few days have comprised of an Ikea adventure (it really is an all-day trip), nothing but tumbleweed that far out of the city, I shit thee not, and sorting out the deposit and rent and buying other things for the communal areas. Last night I went out with a group of British council people all living in Argüelles/ Moncloa, then ended up joining a huge group of about 60 on an all-night bar crawl. I discovered that clubbing with people I don't know is really no fun at all, and needless to say going to straight bars with people I met a couple hours before is incredibly outside my comfort zone, but these things must be done if I want to make some friends around here. It was very loud and overcrowded and hard to hear myself/ other people, and when we got to the club at half 2 I got ID'd and didn't have ID so just took a taxi home (I'd kinda had enough by that point anywho.) Still I can't be a hermit as much as I'd prefer to, and the good news is I met a nice guy who happened to live on the 2nd floor of my block.
Today I got caught in the middle of this during torrential rain while on the way to my friend's house to use her Internet:

http://politica.elpais.com/politica/2013/09/28/actualidad/1380385253_107089.html

The police cordoned off her entire street and I had to say I lived here/ beg them to let me through. I hope they don't give me gip trying to get home! This country takes their protesting pretty seriously I must say, and no doubt I'll miss a good deal of work/ get stranded a few times what with all the manifestaciones and huelgas that go on.
I didn't think that going clubbing without my girly would be so crappy, nor that I could miss anyone so much. I might even ask her to send some hairs in the post so I can stick them to my clothes so I can pick them out....how I miss picking orange hairs out of my clothes. :( :( :(. I look forward to seeing her soon! But hey, I start work next week and I have a date with some locals for Pagan fun tomorrow! Woohoo.
xxx

Not so easypiso.com

Well, well, well. What a tale to tell.
I spent Saturday ill and Sunday lounging around in the park not doing a whole lot, apart from a flat viewing that was in a perfect location but was a bit grotty. The landlord was trying to advertise his room to me (with all his stuff in it), but it's ok, he was moving out this week to go record a CD in Argentina....but yesterday I started getting super antsy to find a place and yesterday the pressure was on. I got an email from the guy saying to phone him asap because someone else was interested and 'had something important to ask me.' So I spent the morning running round like a headless chicken trying to find a cash machine that would actually let me take cash out so I could buy a phone to phone him. When I did he told me that someone else was about to sign. Like a fool, I said this other guy could have it because I was about to go look somewhere else....
And when I got there, it was, well.... very, very cosy. And in the basement. The guy was nice, but errr...he was charging 350 a month for a dingy, dark shoebox to share with him. Not cool. Sorry mate, busy day, another appointment....
Which was even more disastrous. I got lost trying to find the place, and in the advert it said no.16 of this street advertised at 360 a month, so there I was buzzing no.16, and when he didn't pick up I phoned him and he asked me where I was. "Oh 18!" he said. Err, ok...off I went to 18. I told him it said 16 in the advert, and he said, "Oh yeah I've got lots of flats" (or I think that's what he said. His accent was horrible and he talked way too fast.) He showed me around and I was rather impressed, it looked much nicer than the last 2 places. "So what is your price range?" he asked. "About 300-400," I said, as I'd stated in my advert and was within his price advertised. He then looked at me like I'd sprouted another 5 or so heads. It then dawned on me with crushing horror that somehow he thought I was looking to buy the entire flat. Only then did he tell me the room at no.16 advertised had already gone.Oh language barriers. Aren't they fun.
Awkward was not the word. I smiled politely and backed away slowly, then ran, and would've just sat down in the middle of Latina and cried if I didn't have another appointment to go to that a friend in the hostel had found advertised on Facebook, and was already late for.
I met this last guy outside Moncloa who mercifully spoke English, and specialised in finding student accommodation for the local university. He showed me a flat that was 5 minutes walk from where I needed to be, it was clean, not overcrowded as it was only 3 bedrooms. It was slightly above my price range but by that point I really would've cried if I'd gone through all that and not had a result. I took it instantly, ignoring the fact that I was advised it might have a 'party atmosphere'.... but as a local British expat told me this morning on the subject of flat hunting, you really can't have it all....
But hey. It's something. You couldn't pay me a million to repeat the stress and horror that was yesterday, but I celebrated my success at the end of it by joining in with the hostel's drinking games and going out for tapas and beers with a couple of Londoner inter-railers, and today I plan to do very little.  Pictures of the flat to come when I move in tomorrow.

Tapas, Madrid style - not quite what you were expecting....

Well,

day 2 and 3 have been reasonably less panicked than day 1, possibly owed to coming down with a stonking cold due to being run down and it being rather too toasty to sleep at night. Not fun. However yesterday I made the excellent decision to do the free walking tour of the centre of Madrid offered by the hostel, and ended up having a meal and a wander with a few of them afterwards, around the beautiful Retiro park and to the museums (which I almost went for then felt like I was about to conk out.)

In the evening we went to a 'famous tapas bar where the locals go,' and were promised an authentic local experience rather than a cheesy tourist trap. This involved being crammed into a room like sardines, getting a seat was a luxury reserved for the lucky few (not me lol), and waiters who weaved around flocks of people, stacked plates and glasses in hand, like an acrobat, as if the incredible maneuvers he put on show came part of the price. We were told, "In other places, you choose what you want to eat, but here they'll bring you lots of food and they'll keep bringing it until we tell them to stop!". All you can eat tapas wasn't bad for €10 even if it did involve 10 people huddling around each little table. Afterwards we were encouraged to go on the bar crawl, which sounds like fun only here it´s the cultural norm to head out about 1:30/ 2am and finish around 6, and given I could feel my sinuses clogging up at the mere thought, I gave it a miss (but still felt rubbish today - poo!). Still I managed to drag myself to the park in this beautiful 29 degree sunshine and feel like I achieved something through my coughing, spluttering, sniffling and hapless flathunting.

To say I've been thrown in in the deep end is quite an understatement, and to say I've never felt so lost in my life is no exaggeration. But now I'm here to stay, and I'm learning fast so all I can say is... bring it on!

Life on Mars

Remember that TV show about a dude who ends up in a bizarre (might as well be) Martian environment? That's me. I'm him. It's not like I haven't been to Spain before....it's not like I haven't been to some really weird corners of the planet....
But then I've made an arse of myself a fair few times in just a few hours (even though I was advised many times that this was the best way to roll.) I had a warm welcome of a greasy, overpriced dish served by the grouchiest waiter I've ever met (I thought the Madrileños were friendly!), but then this was balanced out by Ryanair not losing my bag and not charging me a fortune for having a 15.2kg bag on a 15kg allowance (which was a shock indeed! Oh the horror stories I've heard...). I also managed, just a few hours ago, to do a bold supermarket shop only to not turn up with a bag and not be offered one, so I then attempted to stagger back to the hostel; I then put said items down to stuff as much as I could in my hoodie to carry it that way, only for someone to ask if I'd fallen over. Silly sausage is me, daft yet resourceful.
Then there's this country's ghastly lack of English Breakfast tea.... I had to settle for peppermint. Dear me....
....Well I'll get there. Maybe the French supermarket down the road is a good bet...

Last minute jitters

Now dawns the last minute terror at T-5 days - not running out of money, making sure everything's done on time and the right order (scary things involving police stations, bank accounts, endless red tape and paperwork and phone tarriffs), not losing things, not getting lost myself, not looking like a tourist and making sure I can scrape by when things go horribly wrong and the only help I may get is from Spaniards who bark angrily like machine guns. Then there's finding somewhere to live that's not filled with cockroaches and loud Erasmus students from hell, run by dodgy landlords armed with hidden costs. Let's also try not to end up in a 'party hostel' the week we're trying to sort this all out without losing the plot, huh....
And how will I leave my dear darling Gingy? (pictured).

The funny thing is that on Monday she thinks that she's having a dissertation handing-in party, when actually she's throwing me a two day leaving party. I'm sneaky like that.

But hey what is there to worry about! I'll be teaching kiddies here:

And living here (somewhere):

I'm apparently supposed to be doing a lot of this:

Which on a regular basis is not really my idea of fun but that's ok, because it means that within a week we'll all be homies like this:

or....something. I suppose it'll probably end up looking more like this:

Hey, I might get all local and start beginning to think about warming to this stuff:

All of the nom! Hey, I'll have a great time.

I'll not often be without this little groovy dude, will I? :D

xxx