Sí Sí Madriiiid

Spain had a few days of holiday last week (I know, I know, so unlike them), which, due to the fact that I have a 3-day workweek, meant that I had 11 days off in the beginning of December. (Everyone now interested in applying for the grant can do so here.)

I went up to Madrid for a few days to see my friend Jackie, who taught here in Málaga province last year. The city was all dressed up for the holidays.

City dressed up, not us. I take no responsibility for
the actions of my new bangs.

We also went to the San Miguel mercado, an indoor market where they have some really good food. We edged close to an oyster stand, glasses of wine firmly in hand, and peeked at the rocky shells in the window.

"I've never had oysters."
 "Me neither."
"I saw it on the TV once, you have to like, slurp it down. Like tequila. Slurp it or cut it up, I don't remember which. I think it was on No Reservations. He was in France or something. Maybe Thailand actually."
"Well that guy isn´t slurping. I think he's doing it wrong."
"Does he have a knife? Do they give you a fork and knife? Maybe it wasn't oysters, maybe it was something else I saw on TV."
"Totally has a knife."
"Should we try them?"
"They're not too expensive. You wanna do it?"
"I will if you will."
"Ok, let's do it."

At this point I noticed that two of the varieties on offer were Fine Claire and Especial Claire, obviously divine intervention (and a photo op!). So we saddled up and ordered two medium oysters. The portly man behind the desk whipped out a hack saw and pecked two of the shells open, put them on an oh-so-classy plastic plate, and slid them our way.

"Aren't these supposed to come with lemon?"
"Those people have sauce, do we get sauce? That looks kinda like a chimichurri."
"It's Madrid, that probably costs extra. I'm not getting it."
"That guy is not slurping. He's chopping his up."
"Totally wrong dude, I'm pretty sure this was on Bourdain, you slurp."
"Should we ask?"
"Definitely no."
"Well he gave us forks. Let's just chop it and if it doesn't work then just slurp it."

Plastic fork and knife in hand, we went at the thing, which resembled a tongue on a rock. I think the guy behind the counter was staring at this point.

"Are these still alive? Mine just moved."
"Mine RECOILED. These are still very much alive. Chop! Chop!"

The first bit tasted like eating the sea. Very salty, like mussels but with no lemon or bay leaf or steam or anything. Just concentrated, distilled ocean. Jackie, who is not a big fan of seafood, promptly checked it off her list-o-stuff-to-do and got back to the vino.

"That...was slimy. I'm going to slurp the rest."

One big chug of wine later, we each finished the oyster. For me it wasn't too bad, because I love seafood, but not something I would go out of my way to get. More importantly, however, I now have eaten one more species of animal, which I think moves me up a slot on the food chain.

Sea-flavored tongues.

Apart from Christmas markets, we had a daily visit to Starbucks. Yes. I went. There are no Starbucks yet in Málaga, and it is caramel hot chocolate season. Not to be missed. My old man bar does not have fleur de sel hot chocolate. Cultural immersion can really only go so far.

And we took a day trip to Segovia, famous for the Roman aqueduct, a smattering of really old cathedrals, and the castle that Walt Disney copied.

Roman aqueduct in Segovia, circa 1st century. It has no cement or binding
between the rocks. They cut the rocks that well. Sure don't build stuff like they used to.

View of the back of the Alcázar of Segovia.

Crazy what you can do with silhouette and iron work on a cloudy day.

 After a day of walking around, we were struck by a severe case of monument fever (see also: Louvre face, Rome syndrome). This is the characteristic illness that befalls tourists visiting really old important cities, usually in Western Europe.  There is a limit on the number of really old religious and arty things that you can see in a day before your brain starts to resemble that oyster we downed back in Madrid.

Nothing better to shake that feeling than some really loud indie rock music!

Fast forward to Saturday. We saw Lori Meyers, a group from Granada, Spain.

Lori Meyers!

This was the second time I've seen them. They played last year in Málaga for free at a festival. The stage was at the foot of Málaga's castle (much more impressive than Segovia's, in my opinion) and the audience extended up a grassy hill and into a rose garden. The crowd was fairly big, and people were pretty into it. It was good.

In Madrid, the concert was just like that one in Málaga. Except it was in a club that resembled an airplane hanger, there were about 3 times the number of people, there was a bar, and everyone paid lots to get in there. This crowd, they were into it.

What you can't see/hear/smell is the other
1,432,543,984 people behind me enjoying the show.

It was one of the best shows I've seen in a while and if you are interested in some rock en español I suggest you check them out.

Now I'm back to the daily grind.Yep, workin' away. At the old salt mines. Oh, and by daily grind I mean singing jingle bells and tying shoe laces. Then on the 23rd I head back to the States for Christmas with the family.

Finally, a bit of vacation time!