I Blame the Pigeons

As I sat feeding the croutons from my salad to the birds, in Barcelona, I found myself returning yet again to the thought of what am I doing with my time? And maybe the real questions should be what am I supposed to be doing with my time? What does everyone else do while on vacation? The Spanish like to say that they work to live, where as we (us North Americans) live to work. I think there is some truth to that. With no job in my life I find myself wondering what to do every day. Like just wandering cities isn’t enough for me. Like I need some sort of purpose in life, which work gives me to help hide the fact at thirty I still have no idea what I am doing with my life.

What is my reason for travelling? Do I think one day I’m going to arrive in a city and suddenly find my purpose? Wouldn’t that be nice! But I’m not pinning my dreams on that. If I claim I travel to enrich my life then going on the piss constantly wouldn’t exactly be enriching now would it. Causal sex with strangers probably isn’t top of the charts for maintaining a healthy lifestyle. It would be a lie if I said casual sex with strangers didn’t give me an ego boost. But then I guess you can question if I’m really just using casual sex to find a connection with someone deeper than a conversation. How many travel-ationships did I have when I was in South America? And it’s not just when I’m traveling that my relationships follow the same structure. Short lived and way too intense. How many men filled a void I deny having? Maybe I need that, and maybe Tompers just isn’t quite enough. All of this travelling is making me realize on thing. It’s nearly time to settle down, and get a pup. Could I commit the next 15 years of my life to something?

So what am I doing? I haven’t a clue.

Day Six at Six Hundred Sixty Metres

After navigating the metro back from Toledo without using any sort of reference, I found myself walking efficiently through the side streets of Madrid. Just going about getting some bits to snack on as I was starving after my day trip. I do this without any difficulty or cheating (which is what Tompers calls using google maps) I realize that maybe six days is too long for a city. I have no idea how teetotallers go on a trip to one city and spend more than a week there, someone please tell me!

The bar man in Granada was telling me I travel like a North American, caring more about seeing multiple places than really getting to know one  place. I guess there is a lot of truth to that. I do try to fit in as much as possible when I travel.

Now in all fairness there is something I need to state. I have not been out on the piss every night. Had I been I reckon I wouldn’t remember having seen any of the city and would be sad to be leaving tomorrow not having explored. Instead after yer-man-for-32-hours left me in Madrid I sobered up and laced up my runners. Because you see I really can only do one or the other these days. As Fletch once told me, its eagle or owl. Plus after two days on the piss, proper, my tummy was not very happy with me, and I just felt gross. So I swapped to early morning runs, afternoons spent wandering the city streets, and evenings going to bed early.

So maybe I’m not giving Madrid the fair shake, but don’t misunderstand me. I love this city. In fact I love Spain so much I already want to return and I haven’t even left yet. I just can’t sort out how to go out without drinking. Also there isn’t really anyone around the hostel so my rubber arm hasn’t been twisted at all. Even Tinder has been useless here. At least in Granada there was the architect who took me all over his city and brought me to all his favorite places. Granted we must have drank at least 6 glasses of wine each in the process. Tompers is waving his arms like a maniac... we were white girl wasted, or at least I was. You see it’s either drinking or staying in for me.

But now that I have virtually walked/jogged all of Madrid I guess I had better put on my big girl panties and go find me a party with for my last night here. 

There is part of me that doesn’t think it is possible to top my first two days here, and an even bigger part of me doesn’t want anything to. That way whenever anyone mentions Madrid a smirk with play across my face and a giggle will escape my lips. Because it was one for the books.

Yer Man From Cork

I cannot say enough good things about the free walking tour of Madrid. I joked while we lazed about on a king size bed in a rather posh hotel room nearly 24 hours later. My walking tour got interesting the second we stopped at The Hat and picked up yer man from Cork... When the words I'm from Ireland came out of his mouth, I just had to go over and introduce myself. I needed my fix, I'd have never guessed he was from Cork though, his accent was so clean. On the off hand chance he was into futbol I mentioned wanting to check out the Real Madrid match. After the tour we had booked tickets and made our way up to the stadium. There may not have been much stadium behind us but I could not think of a better way to spend the money given to me by those lovely church ladies than with an Irish lad at a futbol match. Shameless cheering for both teams we had a blast, Real Madrid winning 2-1. After the match we ate and drank our way through multiple bars finally finding ourselves at San Ginés for chocolat con churro at half two in the morning. This was when the decision to throw money at the problem arose. He will forever be credited with the quote "you can always make more money, you can't make more time". His decision to stay on for the weekend and my decision to do a walking tour on my first day in Madrid resulted in a 32 hour whirlwind affair.

Madrid you have out done yourself.

The Beginning of my Love Affair

Andalucía, it just sounds sexy. We were not to be let down one bit, even though our expectations were high. Starting in Seville we arrived after a three day drinking binge leaving Ireland behind for sunshine. I had forgot just how bright the sun is! The weather was brilliant and Tompers would like to point out my freckles have finally returned. My favorite way to explore cities is by wandering with no destination in mind. Over the next week I would find myself averaging twenty five thousand steps per day in four different amazing cities of this region… Andalucía.

The Spanish people have decided that they want to live outside and the cities reflect this with massive amounts of green area and plenty of seating. I found myself every day just sitting on a park bench somewhere and absorbing the beauty of these places. For the first time ever actually just enjoying doing nothing. After all I earned this vacation, and I suffered through enough rain for a life time.  

Now forever being the budget traveller that I am I discovered some things worth noting. The mosque in Cordoba is free after half eight and before twenty past nine in the morning. This made it more than worth a visit. I have walked into a million churches all over the world this was something else. I cued to be one of the first people into the building and didn’t waste any time. I entered and went straight back to the famous prayer wall. Unbelievable. The gold mixed into the intricate designs you really have to see it to understand the beauty.  When the pipe organ started playing in the church in the middle of this mosque the sound made the hairs on my body stand up. I guess you could say I had a divine moment letting the sound wash over me.

In Granada you must wait until at least half eight at night to go out for Tapas, but for a couple of euro you get a glass of wine and a delicious bite of food. I found after three was enough for me amounting the cost of my dinner to around €6. If you want the true tapas experience Granada is a must. The city of 300,000 people actually feels more like a small town and everything is a short walk away (except the bus station!!) I had booked us tickets to the Alhambra with a guided tour as it was recommended to me. The tour itself was terrible and I had left Tompers in the hostel for the day so I didn’t even have him to amuse me. The palace itself was amazing but a self-guided tour would have been a better idea. I headed up there very early and found a pathway which lead me up to the top of the mountain where I found myself sitting and watching the sunrise over the city. This made me realize I want to spend more time in nature and to get out of the cities I have planned my whole trip to be in.

The only reason Tompers and I headed into Malaga was to catch the train out to do the Caminito Del Rey. Now this used to be the most dangerous hike in the world but they have built these extra safe walkways overtop of the original pathway. I did not get the adrenaline rush I was hoping for but it was a beautiful sunny day and the views were breathtaking. I picked up stuff from the market and we had a little picnic in the sunshine after completing the hike while waiting for the train back into the city. Malaga reminded me that Spain was not nearly as safe as the other cities in the region had me believing. There is a dark underside to this city you can see in the streets if you open your eyes to it. I certainly didn’t wander down and side streets after the sun set. I try to avoid obvious danger just so my mother doesn’t have to worry too much about me.

My Liberation from Ireland

I wandered around the gaff I had just spent the last year of my life in with a knot in my throat. That sick feeling you get right before you start crying. You know the one that gives you away when you try to speak. What a jerk like. My eyes were little pools yet amazingly enough had not overflown. To be so sad leaving was not something I expected after having spent the last year of my life down the darkest hole I had ever been in. I don’t know when the depression started. Maybe I caught it from the accident? But sure, that would mean I had it when I got there.  That would mean that the people whom have come to mean so much in my life never really got to meet me. They met shadow Mandie, someone I had created and projected up to ground level from my deep dark hole.

The funny thing is when you’re the one doing the leaving it’s not the same. There is a little bit of guilt that goes along with leaving. Just imagine cute little old Irish ladies and the amount of guilt they can throw around without any effort. Unreal like. I was half guilted back into returning before I had even left. I joked it was going to be my last day Tuesday, then I was leaving never to be heard from again. But as the days clicked closer to me leaving there was something that was becoming very apparent to me. I was going to have to return.

In all seriousness like, there really is no place like Ireland.

There is so much that has been left unsaid about my time in Ireland. Many laughs and stories I have not yet shared. Now just does not feel like the time to catch you up. Tompers is pushing to look forward and live in the now. One day the stories will come to light, like the one about the night Cilly-B & I played rock, paper, scissors for yer man with the sexy voice.