Madridiots (Or: Spain-ger Danger!)

Before leaving Madrid, John and I wanted to check out the local gay scene.  Because gaaaaay.

I had already been to a bar called Gris on a solo mission, but John had was unconscious. He seemed to be feeling better, so we decided to behave like the local Madridians and began our night at 2AM.

 Obviously, this was a great choice.

John and I had no real plan--the information available online was confusing and annoying; A lot of people have a lot of opinions about a lot of things--and bitchy gay dudes bitching about gay bars is apparently an international pastime.

We opted to just head to the gay-borhood without a plan and just sort of see what trouble we could find.

As John and I were yapping away taking in the sights...

...catching up...

...enjoying our lives...

...not a care in the world...

...two very large young guys approached us and asked us, in English, where we were going.

I immediately panicked.  Were they pickpockets?   Kidnappers?  Or worse--club promoters?!

John told them we weren't sure where we were going, while I responded in my normal fashion when confronted with danger:  Avoid eye contact and walk faster.  But because they were incredibly tall, one normal step for them were like five of mine, so I'm not sure if they even noticed that I was trying to run away.

The two potential Spanish Bandits were trying their best to act friendly--asking where we were from and what we were doing in Madrid.  Harmless chatter to the untrained eye...but I sensed this was a more sinister ploy to figure out how long it would be until someone realized we were missing.

They told us that they both lived in LA at one point, though one was Venezuelan (he lives in Madrid now) and the other was visiting from New York--but is originally from Mexico.

I began to suspect that we were dealing with highly sophisticated international organ thieves.

When they heard that we didn't know where to go in Madrid, they offered to take us to their favorite bars. Obviously we were dealing with sociopaths.

We followed them into the first bar they recommended, and the Tall Ones began to enact their plan almost instantly.  "Let's go somewhere else," they shouted angrily.  Well, I assume angrily--it was quite loud... and while it was entirely possible they were yelling because it's the only way we'd hear them...I think it's safe to say they were agitated.

Frightened, we agreed and left with them.  I took a look around the place, wondering if any of these people would remember seeing us leaving with the Gigantés when our missing persons posters started to pop up all over town.

On our way to the next bar, I flat out asked: "Are you guys murderers?"  I just wanted to know, and I figured if we were all on the same page, perhaps they would show us mercy.

Luis the Venezuelan simply laughed and said: "Have you ever seen Dexter?"

Oh god.

I was trying to conserve power on my phone in case I ended up in a trunk somewhere, so there aren't a lot of photos of the night.

I did manage to take one of the Venezuelan during one of our stops...

...his friend was more elusive, but also had murder in his eyes.

Artistic Rendering!

Around 3:30AM, the Marauding Matadors planned their next move:  An After Hours Club.

Now, I normally wouldn't follow two strangers anywhere, let alone to a second, third or, in this case, unprecedented fourth location.

But we were drunk and, frankly, looking forward to death.  (At least I was...)

They lured us out of the bar and took us down a super quiet street--all as I held tightly onto the key to the AirBNB apartment.  If they were going to attack, I was going to stab the stab right out of their eyes!

We entered the mysterious club, where Spanish pop music was blasting.  They ordered drinks for us--including water "to stay hydrated."

And while he didn't say "...during our long torture session," I think it was clear to everyone within earshot that's what he meant.

At one point, a person came over to hit on the Venezuelan, who shooed him away, saying "I am not here to flirt, I'm here to hang out with my friends!"   His other, taller friend agreed:  "We love you guys!"

I've never been more frightened in my life.

The rest of the night is kind of a blur, but John and I did manage to escape--though we are both clearly traumatized by the incident.

Luckily, we're safely out of Madrid now and in Seville...where more perils await!

Heads Up, Madrid!

Donna and I took a lovely train out of Barcelona and into Madrid.  Since we are veryfancy™ we booked ourselves into the first class compartment.

More like first ass.  #AmIRight?

Obviously, we don't want to be with any of the riff-raff.  Of course, as I got up to get some snacks, I was treated with this nightmare sitting just a few rows away:

And so went all of my hopes for a restful, nap-filled train ride.  

I spent most of the 3+ Hours trying to figure out how that thing got on the train, and where it's luggage was.  (I assumed it was carrying a lot of murder weapons.  Because look at it.)

Anyway, once Donna and I ran screaming from the train station, we were stunned into silence by the sight of two big fat baby heads sitting there, as if that was ok.

Seriously.

I approached one cautiously to try and see what the crap was going on.  Unfortunately I may have gotten a little too close.

Luckily, I fought my way out of this predicament...

...and Donna and I were able to get to our AirBNB relatively quickly.  Too quickly, in fact, for the surly cab driver, who was clearly hoping for a destination more than six blocks away.  

For the record, we would have walked had we realized that the place was six blocks away...but baby heads were harassing us and we had to make a quick getaway.  So stop judging us.

After check in, our newest Spain in the Ass travel companion joined us fresh off his flight all the way from Taiwan: John!

John has a lot of energy...

And hadn't seen Donna in nearly four years...

...and for a while, Donna couldn't see anything, which was unfortunate, since she really wanted to explore Madrid.  Luckily there's a specialty store in Madrid for spare DonnaParts...

...so we were able to get her back up and running in no time.

Once everyone (except John) calmed down, we started wandering throughout the city, taking in the sights...

Too late!

...and, of course, tasting the local cuisine.  One of my favorite parts of traveling is exploring new, delicious fare that you just can't get anywhere else.

On the left is a Kit-Kat donut, with delightful chocolate inside...

...and on the right, a Chips Ahoy donut, with cookie crumbles on top.  #MadridFood

We also wanted to check out the safety precautions in the city, since I am in constant peril...

Now you can put out fires AND be terrifying all at once!

The evening ended with both Donna and John passing out early, and me wandering the streets of Madrid alone, heading to a bar.  This was the men's room door sign:

So obviously, I'm doing great!

How about you?

Barce-ALONE-a

So, Donna and Val continue to be thwarted...

They are currently spending the night in London, and won't actually be joining me in Barcelona until tomorrow at some point. (Although I suspect they'll continue to be F'd.)

They at least get to spend the night in a hotel in London.  So...that's something.  Right?

"Hello, room service?  Yes, I'd like a new trip, please."

Remember that time Donna planned an entire trip, and I was the only one who got to actually participate?  

Well, I took full advantage of my day alone in Barcelona:  The City That Got Me Drunk.™

I've always wondered what it would feel like to travel internationally alone. Would I perish?  Would I be bored?  And most importantly, would I see any matador ass?  I searched for answers to my many questions...

...but I found none.

I started wandering the streets of Barcelona, mourning the loss of my sister.  It's these moments of solitude that make you wonder:  What does life even mean?

I searched everywhere for the key to my heart...

...but came up empty.

Barcelona is a city thriving...

and yet here I was, perishing.

I tried knocking for opportunity...

...but that didn't quite work out...

So, as I continued wandering through the maze of dark alleyways that make up this city...


...alone..

...I couldn't get rid of the sense of melancholy filled my heart--NO! my SOUL!  If anything it seemed to be weighing on me more and more, getting louder and louder and louder.  My god, it was deafening.

And then I realized what it was...

...luckily, the soundtrack of depression stopped...

...and I was able to snap back into reality.

To celebrate,  I took myself out to dinner and ate delicious tapas!

Well, if you insist!

...and then took myself out for drinks to a bar called Atame...

...which greeted me with this mess just inside the front door:

That, coupled with this...

...led me to worry that perhaps I had made a huge mistake.

However, it's a Tuesday night, I'm not sure where else to go, and, most importantly--they have KIWI MOJITOS on the menu.  So how bad could it be?

There's even fresh mint on the bar...

...which the 11 year old bartender used to make my delicious drink.  And also the next three-to-five thousand delicious drinks.

Things started to get a little hazy when the Spanish version of TEQUILA started.

That's about the time the French couple next to me went insane, dancing and singing along. Upon seeing me laugh at their antics, they struck up a conversation, and assured me that these were the best mojitos in the land.  I wasn't prepared to disagree.

I also wasn't prepared for when one of the bartenders came up to us, counted to three in Spanish, and apparently instructed his co-worker to give us three shots of caramel-flavored booze.

It filled me with caramel-flavored happiness. It also filled me with happiness to learn that this couple met five years ago at my favorite bar in Paris--Freedj, which was featured on Stabbey Road Trip!

So after all of this, I learned a very important lesson about myself tonight.

Who needs a sister when there is caramel flavored booze...

....or HAM FLAVORED PRINGLES?!

Who's Donna?