The Original Garytales - Madrid, dia 2 (6.29.03)

I return:

The club was kicking, but not when we arrived. I quickly made my way to one of the four bars in this four story club and ordered 4 red bulls and vodka, when the bartender gave me the bill, I was a bit pissed. I was trying to get involved with being a boracho, but 44 euros is a lot. We had our drinks, found some chairs and chilled. I tried hollering at some girls from Mexico, I could understand and speak in Spanish, unfortunately they were not interested. At around 2am the club was popping and I danced for hella long. We then went back where we all passed out with the sun rising.

About 6 hours later, we hobbled downstairs to enjoy a much finer breakfast, ice
water, ice orange juice, croissants, cereal, Cafe con leche. Ice truly is what
sets America apart. Ice is the greatest invention of all time when it’s hot and
10 in the morning with your head ringing like a 240 pound women hit you upside
your head with her heavy ass purse. Just recalling an incident in eighth grade
at King.

Today we went to the Museum del Prado, the statues were cool, the art was too
much Jesus and stuff. It would have been cooler had any of us taken an art
history class. Can someone please explain why Jesus has the cut on his right
side below his heart in every crucifixion painting? What does it mean? We
continued hungrily to the park of Madrid in search of food. Unable to
encounter any reasonably priced food inside the park, we ventured outside,
found the A.g. Ferreri of Madrid, bout some food, and went back the park to
have a picnic by the lake with a perfect blue sky with a cloud every now and
then. Madrid is fast becoming my favorite city in Europe and possibly the
world. Spanish ladies do improve the picture tremendously I might add. We
then went to another museum of which I can not remember the exact name, but it
used to be a private museum owned by some rich Spaniards, but now open to the
public. It was much cooler than the first. It was three stories with Monet,
Dali, and a lot of more recent artists whose names I forgot. There were about
five pieces I really liked. One contemporary, one Flemish, one Dutch, one
Italian, and one French. The French one was my favorite. It was from 1620,
called the Arabian and it was a man guiding his horse on a hillside, it was all
water paint.

We then returned to our hostel, tired and in need of another siesta.

Hasta Luego,

Pedro

Barcelona dia 3

Hola Amigos,

I woke up this morning to begin writing the first couple of logs in my
adventures which I hope you have all enjoyed and at least somewhat understood.
I woke up at 6:30 this morning unable to go back to sleep. It seems six hours
of sleep with lots of siestas is just too much rest for my body. Breakfast was
much better this morning, we actually have fruit. Aww Scurvy, a sailors worst
enemy. Anyway, my legs were so sore from walking the day before, I thought my
herculean workout plan needed to have a small rest. Oh yeah, why Leif also
hates his sandals, while I was gone, he and the guys tried to descend a small
fence. Unfortunately for Leif, his sandal broke and so did his shorts. Ben
couldn´t stop laughing until Leif gave a nice punch. Eventually, the sleeping
princesses, Ben and Brian awoke and we took the metro to the train station to
leave our bags. We also decided on a new name for the Sorenson, the cricket,
always chirping some complaint, but occasionally moving very quickly like up a
flight of stairs to get out of the muggy metro. The metro of Barcelona is
quite a maze, it can take five minutes just to transfer lines, and air
conditioning does not exist. Arrggh!!! We took a cab from Sants Estacion to
the La Ramba, where Ben, I come to Europe to go shoe shopping, decides we need
to look for Air Max 95´s. He decides against for the 145 Euros they want, but
still decides we need to stop at another foot locker and Niketown. We
eventually meander our way to the cathedral during the heat of the day. I
might as well be a fountain with the amount I am perspiring. I take a seat on
a stone bench with some famous Spaniard and its so hot, my but gets branded
with this guys name on it. We next under my gifted navigation, I am yet to
actually lead us in the right direction once may I add, to find a central park.
As expected instead of east we are going North. Ah what a compass would do.
We pass by a Salvador Dali museum, the loco painter of the 20th century and I
not seeking enlightenment nor the loss of eight euros deside a nice chair in
the air conditioned pan restaurant with a second story view of a plaza was more
suitable. Especially the view of the Spanish mujeres. Leif who also forsake
the museum tried to read, but either were passed out or busy watching the
street traffic. An hour later, Brain and Ben, the enlightened ones, strolled
back, told us we missed some shit, turned to look out the window, and realized
it was they who had missed the view(s). We followed the street further to
Zara, the gap of Europe, where Brain bought a euro shirt, too tight and small,
just like I like to wear myself. We actually found a metro stop, by chance of
course, and went to the Temple of the Sagrada Family. This awesome monument by
Gaudi was incredible. I have never seen anything as cool in my life. The mix
of architecture, the colors, the park, the slushee, yeah baby!! All right my
internet is about to expire, basically we went to KFC, took a train back to the
train station and went to sleep in some couchets. Brian and I were without
snorers while Leif and Ben got all the luck, a symphony of Spanish snorers
ruining a perfect nights sleep on the train.

Hasta manana,

Pedro

The Original Garyales - Madrid dia 1, el empieza de la garytale (6.28.03)

Hola amigos,

When last we met, the boys and I had awoken mighty early from our train ride.
The best thing about checking into a new hostel is definitely that I get to
take a shower. Clean, so good!! Anyways, we all took a short nap and decided to go a tour, that was supposedly not supposed to include a lot ofwalking, unfortunately it did. I am now referred to as el Gato, because I am always sleeping, eating, or walking, or a combination of the three. I preferred the Lion due to my hairy chest and shoulders, but it was vetoed. The
cricket is still chirping away happily, meanwhile Ben and Brian don’t have any
names yet. Ok, back to what we did, no more rambling. I like a brook, the
rest of the guys say, I just don’t stop babbling.

We started off by going to get breakfast at a local cafeteria about a block off our hostel. The hostel is money with air conditioning and a concierge desk, hold on is this a hostel or a four star hotel, I am getting confused. We then continued to the palace. This is a really dope spot, it is grand, plenty of wealth, and it has arms and armor. The day in Madrid is also much improved, the smells have either acclimated themselves to our nostril or Madrid is just
a much cleaner, and nicer area, that has less humidity and more parks. Its a capital bella. The palace has a huge courtyard used for ceremonies and overlooks the biggest park in Madrid, we went on a tour and I saw more wealth than I will accumulate in a millennium. Unfortunately, the cashier shiests me of five euros, he says I gave him 5, I gave him 10, sheisty Spaniards, they must know the Capybara and Scott Holmes I had no idea the Spanish monarchy was
connected to the Austrian Hapsburgs, when I learned this new fact it all made sense. There are too many little details to talk about, but let’s suffice to say that the many rooms we could see of the 2700 that exist were all really cool. The armory actually had knights on horseback in full armor and a really cool dragon helmet, I was really tempted to try it on. From the palace we
walked to the metro to go and see the Real Madrid football stadium. When we got out of the metro, lurking above us were two flanking tipped over buildings that were really cool, a central beam supported each 80 story building for some kind of Spanish Media Company.
Luckily, Ben and Brain decided we should go past stop because we were told the street was like La Rambla in Barcelona, after a 1/2 mile walk in intense heat, we reached the stadium under construction and were unable to enter for less than 4 Euro. I didn’t feel the
need to part for a stadium.

Returning back to the hostel, we took a nice long 6 hour siesta. Oh no we thought, its 10'o'clock, we need to go eat, so we went to a restaurant in the central plaza and sat under a terrace on the street to view the wonderful street traffic. We then made a stopover at a local bodega and went upstairs to enjoy my little friend 40 oz cerveza and his best friend 40 oz cerveza #2. Its now 12'0'clock and we think we are missing the party so we quickly head over to a Club Joy, after a 12 Euro cover, we party the night away until 4 am. I want to stay and try to convince the others that the hostel is shut and we will have to lie in the street, but they don’t agree. Will continue soon.

Peter

Barcelona Day 2

Hola Amigos,

I awoke this morning to the best news ever. I got into UC Irvine, and basically
came up on 120,000 dollars seeing that as the tuition difference between UCI
and USC. UCI also is one of three medical schools in the US offering
alternative medicine electives. I am very juiced. Back to the viaje.

I woke up refreshed, jump roped for fifteen minutes, and went on a jog with
Leif. I then continued to have the lowest class European breakfast ever, there
wasn´t even bread, just packaged pastries, warm juice, and whole fat milk.
Lovely. Not feeling into the meal, Leif and I cruzed the streets and found a
cutsy little spot with waters for 0,65 Euro and a pair of sandals for Leif. If
only Leif, knew the trouble these sandals would bring him... Got back to the
hostel, woke up Ben and Brain, took the metro to the train station where due to
my recent rehydration a bathroom was all I desired but the first two were
being cleaned. Found one out to my biological relief, literally, made
reservations for a couchet tomorrow evening to Madrid and began el gran
caminando (great Walk). From the train station of Sants estacion, we proceeded
six or seven blocks to the main plaza with the museum of art of Catalonia on
top of a hill. Tow huge 100 foot bell towers marked the entrance to this
gorgeous mall of old building, parks, castles, and Olympic stadiums. The main
plaza consisted of beautifully adorned statues with a multiple tiered fountain
that if working probably shot water from one tier to the next. As we ascended
the stairs to the museum , the stench of urine, bear and all that is Europe
urban aroma was replaced by flowers trees. stray cats scattered from
underneath bushes and hedges to meow hungrily. Lack of funds and a desire to
enlighten ourselves of 17th t 19th century art, we continued to dine at a small
cafe situated behind the art museum and between the Olympic stadium and
swimming pool. For a lovely 3 euro($3.75), I got a baguette with four pieces
of salami, a feast fit for a Spanish king. A little cheese, tomatoes, anything
else would have been nice. The Olympic stadium for all its grandeur is dwarfed
by the beauty and size of just memorial stadium in Berkeley. These euros, no
idea how to build a decent sized stadium. we then continued on a another
quarter mile up hill to take a gondola to the Castillo (Castle). The view of
the skyline and sea was gorgeous and if the smog of the city had lifted we
would have seen all the way to Mallorca and Ibiza. The castle was in good
shape and last renovated in the 18th century. One addition, thanks to our
fascist friend Franco were 20mm artillery anti aircraft guns and turrets
outline the castle. I think one B-52 would have taken Francos bastion and made
it go bye-bye. By this point, we had walked over thee and half miles, and
leifs feet were communicating things not even lacrosse practice could. The
rest of the guys took off and left me to the my vices and the arms and armor
museum inside the castle. A half an hour later, depresses after previously
visiting such museums like the one in Vienna, I left. I took the gondola back
down, and tried to figure out how to get off the mountain back to the hostel
where me and siesta could hang out. after another hour of climbing and making
my own path, I found my cama only to be awakened by the atrocious sound of a
fellow American telling her Dutch bunkmate, I thought my boyfriend and I would
fight after five weeks...., cerra su boca(Shut Up!!!!!). We woke up at
around 9:00pm, went to dinner, bought some Vodka, and called it a night.

Hasta manana,

Pedro

Barcelona, la ciudad al lado de la mar (6.27.03)

Hola again friends,

Barcelona Day 1:

When I last left Leif and I were sleepless in London, flying to Barcelona. We
arrived in Girona airport, where the only thing Leif or I had were offerings
for the porcelain gods. six hours and 7 kinds of alcohol make my stomach feel
wonderful. we took another hour long bus ride, Ryan Air airports are in da
cuts, to Barcelona, and a cab to our hostel, down by da beach. I actually used
some Spanish for the first time in years and we found out halfway thru that we
are charged a euro for each bag we bring. Sheists.... Our hostel is right on
the beach where they just finished celebrating the Spanish Independence or
something. the beach is a worse wreck than Leif or I, hard considering our
current state of hangovers and an hour of sleep in a day and a half. We try to
find some nice camas(beds), but we can not find this comfort until 2:30 and its
10:30. we meet back up with Ben and Brain, who are fairing just slightly
better than Leif and I. They go off exploring while Leif and I try to
ascertain nirvana on the foul smelling beach. About a half-an-hour into the
best sleep ever, the rain gods send us a gift alond the los dios de los
vientos)wind gods) at one as well. Thankfully, we stroll down to find a nice
bench where another hour and refreshment is finally due. we find our beds,
pass out, and six hours later awaken to go find some dinner. after arguing
about a place to eat, in other words, lets get everybody what they want, the
non-vegetarians are treated to a five course seafood dinner and Leif gets a
half cooked pizza with a cheese that reminds him of the plane flight from
London to Barcelona. We go out trying to find the party, only to see a bunch
of empty clubs and bars at 1:30am. We reluctantly roll back home and pass out.

Cheers,

Peter

The Original Garytales - The Beggining of the Trip Around the World (6.26.03)

Que tal?

It is 7:30 am and I am kicking it, writing from Barcelona, Spain. It is warm and grand. Three days ago, Brian, Ben, Leif, and I all started this crazy journey from Oakland, California. As Leif and I arrived to my cousins borough of Queens Park in London (Westside), I was happily reunited with family. I had not seen either of my cousins: Kiki or Jonathan in over 12 years since the first time I traveled over the rock that is North America to Europe. Kiki and Johnny entertained us magnificently, after washing off the dust from our first flight; Leif and I were treated to some fine English cuisine. Next Johnny brought out my most hated of all friends: Jose Cuervo, and subsequently told Leif and myself to "get involved." We all took our salt, tequila and lime, and preceded forth to me better friend Mr. Gin and Tonic. From this point, we took a cab with a Cabbie from the Southside (southwest-London) to the media borough of Soho where Jonathan works as a music video director. The clubs were the definitionof Posh, with retro chairs, outlandish designs on the walls, and uniqueness lost among my favorite equivalent establishments in the US. This started a wild night of 100 pound (170 dollar) festivities and cocktail after cocktail, and round after round was consumed. At the second bar, a drunken Aussie, and her hairdressing friend convinced that I needed a fade, so I agreed. Just as were about to commence with the festivities the bar manager coming roaring out talking about human hair and alcohol is not one of his featured cocktails in this establishment. We then proceeded the to "the Player", a tight ass bar with a very interesting decor, kind of like Ali G was able to mimic the American rap culture and morph it into a bar. We then continued to another club, where the not so delightful voice of an English rock band overwhelmed my
ears. Thus, we continued on to the next club where all we knew was the club owner’s name, and it was a BIO (By invitation only). We rolled up in there at 1:00 and were welcomed with the stiffest drink. This is quite a statement considering my current threshold of “wastedness”. Leif’s flight and mine left at 6:00 am and we had a cab to the airport an hour away to the north at Stansted with ghetto ass Ryan Air. At 2:00, we felt it was necessary to eat some Chinese food then get back to the house and the rising sun at 3:30, just perfect to catch the cab. Leif and I pass out for the first time in about twelve hours and made our way to Barcelona.

Peter