Plaza Santa Ana

Arrived around 7 AM in Madrid - it only took me 3 espressos and a venti coffee to push through the jet lag. My hostel is in the Centro neighborhood which is full of hilly, windy streets that resemble those in the new town of Prague, Czech Republic. The streets are extremely clean and lined with cobbled brick. Stores, restaurants, and even sex shops for the adventurous are spread throughout the neighborhood. Train stations are abundant with one right outside my hostel llamada Tirso De Morina.

After getting situated I made my way over to Salamanca, an affluent, yuppy neighborhood north east of Centro. The area is home to many palacios, all of which boast architecture that anyone can appreciate. There is also a beautiful park llamada Retiro just south. Many people stroll through the park which is flawlessly maintained. Although its smaller than NYC's Central Park and Chicago's Lincoln Park, it is absolutely beautiful. The only thing that the other 2 have on Retiro is the skyline that is the backdrop to every selfie taken at them.

We ate lunch at a place called Cappuccino - as Jeff pointed out - a clever name for a coffee/breakfast joint :/. We both had french omelettes that were infused with gouda and topped with arugula and tomatos - mmmMMmm. It turned out to be an eventful meal. After paying la cuenta, Jeff immediately realized he didnt have his phone. After thinking about how we could have lost a phone during our hour long coffee break, I sas fairly certain a spanish kid got the best of him. We were sitting at a table closest to the Puerta de Alcalá, hands reach from the many people walking by. At one point, a kid walked up, put an advertisement on part of the table and said "Podrías comprar una...". We immediately responded with "No Gracias" and continued talking. It just so happened that this advertisement was put over the exact spot where jeff put his phone. A 20 euro meal turned into a 820 euro investment.

We ended the night with drinks at the Festival de Paloma with new friends from Canada and England. The Festival was spread throughout an entire neighborhood. Restaurants were selling beers "para llevar" or to go. Streets were packed. Everywhere. A new song on every street and another couple doing the tango. There was even a concert. By the time we made it through the crowded streets to check it out, I was already pretty lit. My whiskey and coke orders shouldn't have been accompanied with "Mas fuerte que el pasado, por favor". I definitely feel this way now as im writing this one day later.Read more