Madrid ::: Day 2 ::: A Series of Small Tasks

My second day in Madrid, my first thoughts were: 1) Eat 2) Find WiFi, so that Mom and Dad know I am alive 3) Relocate to a hostel 4) Get out of Madrid.

So I vomited. And then I went downstairs.

Sitting in the cafe attached to the hotel, I ordered a croissant and water. A man a couple seats down ordered me to try the orange juice. Not going to argue with that, especially since I was sitting directly across from the impressive machine that was halving the oranges and fresh squeezing the juice.

I peeked outside the open door of the cafe and saw that the street was filled with many more people, a few of them with suitcases rolling by. This was encouraging. Exiting the cafe, even more so. Puerto del Sol was not at all the deserted ghetto that I feared it was. Shops were unshuttered everywhere, cafes were spilling into the streets, and nobody was waiting to steal my purse (that I could tell).

After some exploration of the area, I checked out of the hotel and moved my belongings down the street to a cheaper hostel, and decided to get on with making a reservation out of Madrid.

The hostel manager assured me the train station was a 20 minute walk and that the subway just outside should be avoided. He showed me the route on a little map. This, however, did not prevent me from getting lost and wandering Madrid for several hours.

Street names are not well posted. Sometimes they can be found high up on the corner of a building in script that is difficult to read. And many times streets radiate in many directions, so it can be hard to pick the right one. I reoriented myself many times simply by arriving in a square by accident, finding it on the map, and going from there.

The train station was another learning curve, but now I know what to look for: ticket office and departure gate. I learned that the ticket office requires you to take a number and you should wait your turn. People in the tourist booths are most helpful, not the people in the information booths. There are no Eurail signs, so don't look for one. And Renfe is the name of the train system.

By now I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. I accomplished all of my tasks in the first foreign country I've ever been to. I don't speak the language. The streets are not at all the orderly grid I am accustomed to. And getting lost had been part of the fun.

Some photos from that afternoon: