Madrid and the Enormous beers

Well our first overnight train in Europe was pretty much a success and a fairly educational chapter in this extensive European adventure. Though sardined in a tiny compartment of 6 bunks beds with Rev and 4 hairy randoms, the rumble and bumping of the train rockabyed me to sleep nicely, that and a sumptuous meal of booze prior to the boarding.

And drunker

Woke up with clouds colourfully illuminating a deep orange and pink sun-risen sky over the city of Madrid, packed our bags and belongings and lumbered over to the nearest metro station towards our accommodation.

Booked into a great hostel called ´MAD hostel´, a huge 170 bed joint in the crux of Madrid, with excellent facilities and a shared dorm room for fairly cheap - cheaper than Skippy´s brothel back in San Sebastian and significantly more accomodating. Met a cool pom by the name of Nick, and his mate Zoelle, and after checking out the local city streets and cheap fare we sunk some big ass tubes of San Miguel pilsener on the hostel roof in the heat of the sun overlooking a great view of Madrid and the rooftop surroundings.

Beer vending machine and me

Was thrilled to discover that if we ever decide to head over to Portugal, Mad hostel has a sister hostel called the ´Rising Cock´, potentially a dangerous night´s sleep for all concerned. Madrid comes across as an impressive city on the first glance, echoing the sentiment of the smaller norther towns with its laneway quarters, tall, ornate architecture and smell of cigars, though with 5 million inhabitants, the place is indeed just another big city. We were told by skippy that the place is notorious for parks full of prostitutes going for a very competitive rate, as well as significant petty crime that grew with the break down of the borders for the formation of the European Union.

Now, i don´t mind pork products, and bit o pig satisfies my tastebuds anytime, anywhere, but Spain is obsessed with Ham. Ham, ham everywhere. (or Jamon in Spanish). Some of the first things encountered upon arrival in Madrid were the Museo de Jamon (museum of Ham), the Ham palace and every place offered huge plates of, you guessed it, ham and nothing else. The Spanish seem to think ham is the shit, though i later discovered that this cultural preponderance of pig stems back to the fun old days of religious inquisition, where you were able to differentiate between and Christian and a Muslim by whether or not he chowed down pig. Then, presumably, someone got burnt at the stake, and they threw some ham on for good measure. Ham on!

Drinkin

Back at the Mad Hostel, the beers were free flowing and the Aussie-Pom alliance was in full swing. After coming to the aid of 6 American girls who didn´t posess the motor skills to open their room door, the four of us hit the town to a bar down the road, El Chicons, where a sign that read ´Do not smoke joints in this bar or the police will fine us´ was plastered all over the walls in every conceivable language. We offered the ownder our own Aussie take on the warning, and though i shouldn´t write it here, just know that it will be extremely offensive and hilarious if they actually put it up with the rest of them.

ello again

Got stuck right into the pints big time, so much so that i stumbled out of the bar at 2am with no motor skills, and vision that fluctuated between double and triple. We later found out that the seemingly large ´pints´ we were drinking were actually 1 litre each, ie - a bit under a jug. A fine evening in the city of Madrid.

Rolled back to the hostel and lectured the 6 American girls on the disastrous policies of thier government, then crashed.

moster pint - i litre

Nick Nick and me

on top of mad hostel

Passed out vertical Zoelle

Tucking into monster pints

Zoelle slowly passing out horizontally

Zoelle, nick, rev and i

zoolander and wastoid