This weekend was filled with stories. Some details might not make sense right away, but it will give you a better idea of how the weekend unfolded. I didn’t want to make it a late night on Friday so I went for tapas before dinner. I finally went to San Miguel, a bar that everyone was raving about and got a lot of bang for my buck…or 1.20 Euro for a beer and a big tapa (cut up sausage and greasy potatoes); definitely worth it. Alejandro, a guy I had previously met at a wifi bar near my house also made an appearance with me and my friends. He invited me and whoever wanted to go to a Motocross extravaganza on Sunday. Sophie, Brittney and I showed enthusiasm and all agreed on going.
After dinner, Matt and I went for a walk to take pictures of the Alcazar lit up. It’s gorgeous at night. Earlier on the trip, Tom and I discovered a cave near the castle and I asked Matt if he wanted to check it out. We made our way up the rocky steps, which seemed to last an eternity and after some panting and grabbing a walking stick along the way, we finally made it. Luckily, Matt had a flash light that was a step above using our cell phones. The shape of the cave (at least the front of it), has a giant opening that goes at a 45 decree downward slope and is rocky and awkwardly shaped. We start to climb down and wonder what we are getting into.
All of the sudden, Matt shines the flash light up and abruptly there is a bat sailing toward our faces. I remember seeing its venomous eyes and its unattractive nose; yeah I’m vain enough to take note of even a night critter’s facial features. Out of impulse or some animal instinct, I mechanically swing my walking stick in the air as if I would actually catch the monster in mid flight and save us with a triumphant homerun: Man vs Animal. Cosmos vs. Chaos…(p.s. I’m taking a Myth’s and Legends class so this kind of lingo comes up often. Anyway, Matt had envisioned swarms of 1000’s of nippy bat wings swarming our heads and squeaking at us in a form of torture. The reckless and inevitably fatal swing of my walking stick caught Matt with a blow to the leg and he thought he was nipped by a bat…like that’s what it really feels like, but there was mass confusion and who thinks straight in a time of crisis. All of this happened in a matter of seconds. We bolted up the rocks straight for the exit and didn’t look back. Because it all happened so fast, I had a pretty high adrenaline, mostly from just getting startled and not knowing how many beady eyes looked down upon us. They were probably angry at the one bat for jumping the gun and ruining the fun for everyone.
Matt and I hung out at the top of the steps by the Alcazar, talked for a bit, walked down to the Aqueduct and saw some people, and soon after went home to rest up for Toledo. I had no problem being on time for our 9 a.m. departure. We toured Toledo in the sun and climbed up and down very narrow streets. When cars came you had to duck into door ways; there are streets like this in Segovia too. Toledo felt like my preconception of Spain because they claimed domain over Don Quixote de La Mancha. La Mancha is a very flat part of Spain just south of Toledo. The city is also known for their well made swords and you can find tons of them in the shops. Spain flourishes in tourism and everywhere you go you can find local and national memorabilia. We also got to see the Cathedral of Toledo (best in Spain) and 2 museums: one of them I didn’t care much for and the other was of El Greco paintings.
We got back to Segovia at 8, stopped for another tapa and a beer, and went home for dinner. That night we went out by the aqueduct and were stopped by 2 undercover policemen asking to see our passports. Of course, we didn’t have them on us and they ultimately wanted to know if we had Hashish: drugs. They went on their way but completely blew their cover because before long the aqueduct plaza appeared deserted. The night continued at a few bars, nothing too special. I wanted to go home early because I anticipated Sunday’s motocross with Alejandro. I went home around 4.
So I have to add a disclaimer to this part of my blog because some people may think I have gone off the deep end. I may or may not have acted irresponsible, foolish for my well being, spontaneous, audacious, or even courageous, but when it all boiled down, I broadened my comfort zone and I had a great time (sorry for the commas) (long sentence). Continue with caution.
Okay, so that morning I was a little nervous about going with Alejandro. Let’s think rationally. I was getting into a car with a guy I had met twice that seemed very sincere and wanted to practice English. However, he was going to bring me and 2 other girls 25 km away from Segovia to attend Motocross out of kindness; was something off about him? I contemplated bringing a survival kit to ease my horrible stereotypes that TV loves to get rich off of, the horrific archetypes that American’s vegetate over where people get slaughtered. I didn’t want to think about it, because I knew he was a nice guy. I had called Alejandro to tell him I would meet him at the Aqueduct (heaven forbid at my house…again half sarcasm) and while I was on my way, Sophie called me and backed out on me. I couldn’t get a hold of Brittney and in trying to invite other people; my phone ran out of minutes. Now I was at the aqueduct telling Alejandro that I was the only one to come on this trip. Be afraid for the risk I took because the facts are laid out there, but remember that I made it back content and in one piece. One must have some kind of balance of risk or would lose out on many great and more than likely safe opportunities. I can envision disgusted faces reading my decision to go with a stranger and growing my uncertainty that follows.
He said his car was having trouble on the way and that we would need to stop by his house. Sounds like the beginning of the end. Then he tells me to come inside to see his Bodega. Reluctantly and fully aware, I check it out. We leave his house and he quickly fixes something under the steering wheel. He said we needed to make another stop at the best meat shop. After that we made our way to the Motocross, but he didn’t see anyone on the hill. This let down was short because as we approached, we saw a bunch of cars on the other side. When we got there I felt much more relieved. My bad assumptions of him turned out to be way off base. He seemed to know everyone there, from elderly to the youth. We watched a few races and spoke in both English and Spanish.
I had never attended a motocross event but it reminded me a little bit of those old commercials for GRAVEDIGGER…Monster Truck rally, kids seats are still just 10 bucks (echo)…this Sunday, THE METRODOME!!!!! Ask Ryan Lais for a recreation of TV’s best commentary if your mind escapes you of such quality advertising. I was also introduced to a bunch of people and I was feeling very conversational that day. Of course, no event can occur without a bit of Spain’s finest ham cut right of the pig’s leg. It was delicious: sorry Paul Conroy, my vegetarian guru. One of Alejandro’s good friends (tipsy?) insisted that I join them to eat lunch at his house. Not to go would be like going to Arizona and not seeing the Grand Canyon. We got there and set up the grill; they had me wipe down the table. In all, there were about 12 people there including 2 young boys (6 and 9) that were interested in learning English. I felt like I was speaking fluently among everyone and this gave me a lot of confidence. I do have to mention that this guy (my host) was the biggest redneck I’ve ever met. If the Stilkeys are reading this, please forgive me. This guy was so trashy, foul-mouthed, actually he mumbled just about everything he said, and completely accepted by his friends and family. He sat next to me and filled my plate up with meat. Eat. Neanderthal. I know there were jokes flying right and left and I was able to throw a few back, but it was quite the experience overall. At times, I felt ‘out of my comfort zone,’ but if anyone knows me, I usually know how to schmooze the people and even the keel. In Spanish terms, he was the bull and I was the bullfighter; letting his horns attack the red cape and gracefully moving aside. I had a good time. Ironically, well whenever I use this word I think back to a time that someone was called out for using it in the wrong situation and I always question myself to its exact meaning. Anyway, this guy ends up choking on his drink and throws up on his own patio. The bull is dead. No he didn’t die, maybe his pride diminished but after that we left. I talked with Alejandro’s friend on the way back and we listened to a Celtic hard rock band called “Mago de Oz”. It sounded very Irish: rock on.
Got back around 6:30, still sunny. Went for a run by the river and saw with Marita and Katie, chatted for a bit about class registration and how fast this semester is flying by, went home to shower, ate dinner, and then went to steal some internet access outside of a friend’s house here in Segovia. I was nervous about posting this story after some negative reviews from overcautious people. I am glad to know that what matters to them is my safety, but it turned out to be a great experience and an even better story to tell. Now the trees are blooming and spring has sprung. Only 19 days more class, a spring break, and a week or two of Europe. What a time and place to be. God Bless.
David
…nice change from the paintings. and La Granja (an exuberant garden that was too cold to see and a baroque style palace that was very similar from room to room. 
…nice change from the paintings. and La Granja (an exuberant garden that was too cold to see and a baroque style palace that was very similar from room to room. 
loosing an hour (Spain’s daylight savings) and just the monotony of seeing Castle-Leon towns. I feel bad because we saw one of the best preserved medieval towns, but besides looking quaint, picturesque, adorable, rocky, splendidly old fashion…there wasn’t much to do except wonder why the streets were empty and sit in the plaza alone. 
loosing an hour (Spain’s daylight savings) and just the monotony of seeing Castle-Leon towns. I feel bad because we saw one of the best preserved medieval towns, but besides looking quaint, picturesque, adorable, rocky, splendidly old fashion…there wasn’t much to do except wonder why the streets were empty and sit in the plaza alone. 
