Sunday, July 27th, morning: I wake up without back pain. The night was horrible, the couch was very run down already, but at least it has put back whatever was off in my spine or wherever. We gather our things, put them into the Grrrmaneta and leave. We make another stop at a supermarket and get some breakfast, snacks and water. I choose the self-checkout because I don’t feel fit to talk in any language today, but of course, the system hates me. (I told you to remind me!!!!) We need assistance from two employees of the place and talk more as if we had paid at the normal checkout. Please, remind me next time.
We choose to try finding a spot in Santander, we already have a house booked on the campingsite, maybe they have a space for us for another night. So off to the north. The landscape is changing again, we see everything again in just a few hours. Big cities, smaller cities, deserts, mountains, forests, tunnels and a lot of bridges.
I am happy we’re leaving, but at the same time I feel bad for not liking Madrid as much as I maybe should have.
People are sharing more material from the concert the evening before and it is beautiful. I can’t wait to see them live. I am joking about how I didn’t like Madrid and how much the driving there has pissed me off, and I end up promising to come back but take a flight when the guys sell out the Bernabéu. People soon correct me that the idea is fine, but it has to be the Metropolitano! Okay, fine by me. I have absolutely no preferences in Spanish football because no matter which Spanish team kicks our sorry little a*s, it always hurts. But if you tell me to come to the Metropolitano to see a concert, then I’ll be there.
Saturday, July 26th: Madrid was on our list because of Torre Picasso and because of the zoo. We wanted to see the Pandas. We didn’t plan to go there on the hottest day of our trip, but the tickets are already paid for, so here we go. Because of the great parking spot and the non-existing desire to drive through Madrid, we go to the near train station. But we can’t get a ticket. It’s either only available with an existing card or everything is so poorly translated (if at all) that we can’t make any sense of it. Neither in Spanish nor in English. So no train then.
We take Grrrmaneta on a tour of Madrid since we don’t get to the zoo otherwise. The parking spots are good, people are taking care that no one parks on three spots with a small car. At the entrance we are stopped to take a photo we could buy later on. The zoo is very nice, the Pandas are awake and we are happy.
Lots of other animals seem to struggle with the heat today, so are we. I have trouble breathing because the comfortable looking bed was the complete opposite. It somehow threw my back out and I can barely walk.
We see Penguins next and they must be Bogopenguins because it’s the day of a concert and they are already lining up at the door.
We make a stop to re-apply sunscreen and people are looking pitifully at us. (Well, if you knew what I probably did in a former life, you would say I totally deserve it.)
We are seeing Bears and Koalas next. After a trip to the zoo in Leipzig last week we are now counting sleeping Koala number 3 and 4.
Next stop aquarium. It’s quite cold here compared to the outside, very nice. But incredibly loud. My husband is asking if Spanish people in large groups are always that noisy, but I have only experienced them at concerts, so I’d say yes.
We see sharks, a Picasso fish and seahorses. It’s like a game of Bingo.
Heat and pain are unbearable. We decide to cut the trip short after seeing all animals we planned on seeing. We also decide to leave Madrid early in the morning.
On the way back we drive parallel to the A-3 leading to Valencia and dream about being finally at the concert next week. We pass a bus from a company called „Bogasbus“. This city is a bingo card.
The apartment is like the ice hotel, the airconditioning did work a miracle. We make dinner and decide to mess up the Youtube search history a bit by looking Arde videos. We kind of did something similar in Zaragoza when we went to a store and put an Arde Bogotá vinyl in the front spot of the display. It was very fun and didn’t hurt anybody.
My back still hurts, but the cold air in the apartment helps to feel a bit better. We have another Spanish beer at dinner which is apparently a bad combination with the excitement before, during and after the concert in the chat group. I’m writing a lot of nonsense, but also come to the conclusion that this is where the phrase „Las putas Estrellas“ must come from. I choose the couch for the night, but am longing for the bed in the Grrrmaneta. I haven’t sleep anywhere as good as in that car for a long time.
I read an article about the Bogofans and wonder if a newspaper at home would pick up an article about four crazy Alemans who drive thousands of kilometres to see a band in Spain? Someone suggests I should blog about my travels. I am thinking about it. My homepage exists, but it’s empty, Maybe a blog would be a good thing to bring it back to live. I will look into this when we’re home.
Friday, July 25th: After that very eventful night we get up, pack our things and I go to the carpark to pick up our supposedly ruined Grrrmaneta. Two days with all this damp equipment and stuff inside. The smell will be heavenly. Not.
To my surprise it’s not that bad. I pay the ticket and find a spot right in front of the hostal. I even have perfect change for the ticket! We restore Grrrmaneta and take off. Of course not before we give her a little upgrade from the shop at the basilica.
Because we are already close to it, we circle the HdS monument. There’s no parking space there so we just take a quick picture while waiting on the traffic lights. I promise to pay it a proper visit in a few weeks.
We try to get something to eat on the way. We’re passing something that looks like a big mall outside town, but when we get closer, it’s very rundown and big parts are closed. At least one of the fast food places is still open. We get inside and order. They have Gazpacho, I need to try it – and it’s fantastic! I think my transformation is nearly done. I may be a cheesy white and chubby Aleman chick now, but I am convinced that I must have been a fiery Spanish girl in another life. But obviously I did something bad to deserve this existence, maybe I invented reggaeton and deserved to get expelled from paradise, I don’t know. But speaking of expelled, this place gives horror movie beginnings vibes. And as we spot the monorail, we pack up and leave Kamp Krusty before more unpleasant Simpsons innuendos are coming to mind.
On the way to Madrid I start crying. Suddenly it hit me that this was a dream I always had, but never knew about. Driving through Spain, visit places and see things I had only read about or seen on pictures. I’ve been in love with Héroes del Silencio since 1994 or even earlier, before I even knew their name, but it’s Arde Bogotá who made this dream possible. I’m awfully sentimental about this topic, I know. But it means so damn much to me to be here. And that I am still here is something I owe to these two bands. Their work has put me back on my feet, gave me a pat on the back and turned on the light when everything around me was dark. I don’t expect anyone to understand this who hasn’t experienced something similar, but I know there are people outside who did, one way or another. So, if you’re reading this and feeling something similar, remember: La derrota no es una opción!
The trip to Madrid is spectacular – the landscape changing from one thing into the next from one moment to the next. Others may want to cruise the world on one of these swimming cities, let them do it, but it’s not for me. I am right now, right here in the right place. And there’s another week’s adventure waiting for us.
By now everyone gets excited about seeing signs with A-3 on it.
Our place to stay for the next two days is an apartment in an office complex not too far from the city centre. We struggle with the door to the complex, but the concierge has a heart of gold and lets us in every time he sees us without questions asked. The door to the apartment works with an online key and I am impressed about this science fiction. What I am not impressed about is the balcony. We are on the fifth floor and you can see right through the ground? There’s also a little step at the door. So if you stand on solid ground, the rail is too low and you fear you might fall over it, but when you move to the place where the rail is fine, the ground opens up. Great for any kind of anxiety, I guess. I decide to put mine aside and stay away from this death trap.
Since we found a great parking spot right outside the door for Grrrmaneta, we take the bus into the city centre. There’s a bus that will take us nonstop to Plaza Picasso. What I didn’t know was that La Torre Picasso was so close to the Bernabéu stadium, in fact I did not know that such a big stadium was so close to everything.
There’s a playground right next to the building, the kids want to go there. We wonder about the parrots in the trees and look it up. Of course, that second K2 falls off the playground equipment, right on his face. Another mum and a grandpa from the bench next to us are rushing to the rescue. I try telling them thank you for being quicker than me, but they smile like „don’t worry, everything is fine, it did not cause any circumstances“. Nonverbal communication among parents is a very helpful thing when you don’t speak each other’s language.
Only on the way back to the apartment I get the feeling that tourists are not as welcome here as they are in Zaragoza for example. An old lady is sitting on the other side of the bus, obviously feeling disturbed by us speaking German and the kids being excited. They are not climbing the seats, they do not scream, they are just happy and talking. Whenever she looks at us, I try to make eyecontact and smile which works most of the time. But here – nothing. She clearly dislikes us. When we get off the bus, an older man takes our seat who was sitting somewhere else before and both of them start talking and look in our direction with quite a hateful stare. I feel stunned. This is the first time we met people who were clearly not pleased about us being here. It’s a very odd feeling, and I can’t say that I like it. It’s so very different to the feeling I had when we came here earlier today.
