Salsa in Madrid, etc - April 3 to April 11

April 3, 2007

Reflections on time at the London City Airport and other musings - until shortly after takeoff

Madrid is located to west of London and much of the United Kingdom. How do I know this? Because I am reduced to writing longhand with my laptop dead, and the notebook I grabbed has a map of the world with time zones indicated. Despite the fact that sun would set later in Madrid compared to London (at least most of the time), the clock in Madrid is set one hour ahead of London. It explains why my itinerary indicated that my flight would take over 3 1/2 hours - I didn't think Madrid was so far away.

Whenever I look at a world map with time zone information, I am amused by the role of politics (and sometimes religion) plays in determining what time it is. Some of the more bizarre time zones include Iran (+3.5 hours), Afghanistan (+4.5 hours), India (+5.5 hours), Nepal (+5.75 hours), Bhutan (+6.5 hours) and China (all of it at +8 hours). Some countries have only a part of their land with odd time zones - Canada (Nova Scotia is -3.5 hours) and Australia (middle part is +9.5 hours).

Time… Having little to do on the eve of my Madrid trip, my television was on for a change - with nothing scintillating. I settled on an expose on British open prison system while preparing dinner. The argument was that there were a lot of problems with this system, which is designed to house inmates considered safe and on their way to be reintegrated into the normal society. A part that caught my ears involved hard core drug use (e.g. heroin) - according to some inmates drug use makes time go by faster. At some point when we were young (well… not me personally), weren't we hoping that time would go faster so that we would become full fledged adults sooner? People would get their ears pierced, start wearing make-up, smoke cigarettes, etc to look older. Then at some point, opposite occurs - people start dreading passage of time and go out of their way to look younger.

Bored at work because I ran out of things to do the day before my flight to Madrid, I found two colleagues (pronounced differently than the way Mimi would say it - she's not alone) loitering in the corridors gabbing away. I stopped to listen. One complained to the other about ever increasing white strands of hair. I quipped that I probably have more white hair than her. She retorted that I am older than her. This means little - when I was in graduate school I remember a fellow student three years behind me (and probably younger by greater margin), who had more white hair than me. She said something about people aging at different rate and continued to rail against general ravages passage of time causes.

While I am in Madrid, I apparently will miss some birthday dances. Ivan in particular was making a big deal about his upcoming birthday (it already happened last Saturday, but he planned on celebrating it at Club Salsa this week instead). No need to disclose his age - even though he seemed to make a big deal out of it. There was another person with her birthday upcoming (Lindsey? Nicola?), but she was so quiet about it comparatively speaking that I am not sure who it was.

England is no longer below us. Usually I prefer aisle seat even when flying to new locations, and pretty much always took aisle seat since near the end of my undergraduate days. I think this is in part because I find aisle seats less constricting - more freedom. When checking on-line, I initially switched from a window seat to an aisle seat. After navigating out the seat selection page, I saw that I still could make a change. I did - back to a window seat.

Monday was really dull. All work was wrapped up early, and the change in pace from what was a very hectic two week period was jarring. By Monday, I did not feel like doing any more preparations either (mostly looking at ways to get myself around within Madrid and to surrounding cities like Toledo and Segovia). I considered spending the night in London, but decided against it. I considered calling Cyrille or maybe Euvian before going to Club Salsa. I did not call them. I danced a bit, and I overheard someone say that with multiple lessons a week (say 3 times a week), one can reach advanced level in 2-3 months. Whoa!

A diversion

The flight attendants rushed down the aisle and startling everyone - including me and the passenger seated next to me. There was some smoke in the air. The passenger next to me turned on the air. The flight attendants rushed from back of the plane to the front of the plane. Then three flight attendants marched down the air with their hands grazing the overhead compartment. I turned to my neighbor and said, "This is getting exciting."

It was only the second time I exchanged comments with my neighbor - the first one occurred right after the takeoff. The airplane lurched forward rather violently on the runway surprising us and pressing us against the seats. I joked to her that it was a pretty impressive zero to sixty. After skipping a beat she replied, "Better than Ferrari."

By then we had crossed the waters and was over land - I assumed somewhere over Iberian Peninsula. As we started descending, I noticed a beautiful play of sunlight reflecting brightly against my eyes - sometimes something like a special effects driven movie of a microchip.

As we neared the landing fields, I was rather struck to have seen very little sign of civilization - nothing like a big sprawl I would have expected for Madrid. The pilot then announced that we will be landing in some French military base. This led to third round of conversation with my neighbor. She was quite a bit more informed having made inquiries to the crew after noticing the smoke earlier. The airplane was making a precautionary landing at the nearest airport available - which happened to be this French military base some 2.5 hours away from Paris. Wow. I now can say I sat my foot in France.

Apparently the problem (and the source of the smoke) was engine trouble. As we disembarked from the airplane, most of us including me noticed copious amount of fuel drizzling from one of the engines on the left wing. At first we simply stood on a grass field as the aircraft was surrounded by multiple vehicles including a couple of military vehicles with bazooka. Eventually, they moved us by a bus to a nearby military building where they gave us LU cookies/biscuits and orange juice. I was quite amused that the French military personnel spoke very little English while the crew did not speak French.

My neighbor turned out to be a Spaniard living in London and apparently spoke both English and French well so she tried to help as a translator. She also turned out to have done her PhD in clinical pharmacology in Boston (Massachusetts) about the same time as me. She apparently had done some time with Pfizer as well so I was able to joke about Sandwich with her. She also mentioned being very struck by the fact that I spent a lot of time writing longhand in the airplane (as opposed to using modern gadgets such as a laptop, blackberry, etc). I explained to her that my laptop died last week.

I wonder how long we will be stuck here. How long would it take to repair the engine? I see no obvious method of getting the 38 passengers plus whatever number of crew to Madrid from this French military base in middle of nowhere. By the way, I tried to count the number of passengers while waiting at the gate and only counted 30 other passengers (counting the number of passengers is something I don't ever recall doing). I hope that this diversion does not become the biggest highlight of this week-long trip.

French military cuisine

It is a nice pleasant warm day. I don't think I will need my coat in Madrid - at least not during daytime. By the time I finished the previous part of my entry, two hours had passed by since the landing and it's now 2 PM.

There was talk of lunch. I commented/joked, "Mmm. French military cuisine… It might be pretty good. Better than airline fare." The food served by British Airways was a croissant sandwich - choice of ham and cheese versus egg and mushroom. I had ham and cheese (cream cheese) with orange juice - same as my neighbor. Because I wasn't able to finish my breakfast at home before departing (the taxi arrived sooner than expected), I had no problem finishing my croissant.

Shortly after 2 PM, the crew announced that we will be moved to a different building for lunch. By now, we had a French communications in tow - his primary qualification probably being that he could speak English. When we arrived at the mess hall via the same bus, the communications officer announced, "For lunch you will have French military food… It's good."

It is unfortunate that I checked in my camera with my big suitcase - although perhaps the military people may not appreciate photos being taken. My neighbor took a photo of the airplane surrounded by military vehicles using her phone camera - she might send me a copy.

Several of the passengers - likely businessmen - were no longer interested in going to Madrid and wanted to head back to London instead. Of course we are in middle of nowhere - no information other than being perhaps 200 kilometers south of Paris. These businessmen tried hard to find a way to get to Paris - initially declining the offer of lunch. Eventually they found a way to get to Paris independently and were escorted out of the military base around 4 PM.

This is getting hilarious. We are being photographed by the local media. Some of the passengers are being interviewed by a video crew and also by a print journalist as I write this. A plane has been dispatched (supposedly around 3 PM) to get most us to Madrid (now 33 passengers left). We are back on the runway (now ~4:40 PM), but there is no sign of the new airplane. This is surreal. It would be fun if I could post this entry today.

I made a brief inquiry to the media people. I learned that the nearest city is Bourges - about 20 kilometers away. The nearest village is called Avord. The military base name? There's no name. It's referred to as Base 702 - apparently an old American military base (map). I was asked if I am a writer. This is the third time I was asked a question like this today - writer twice and journalist once.

The replacement airplane finally arrived - a charter company called Titan Airways. It seemingly took a long time to transfer checked-in luggage, etc. After climbing a very steep make-shift step ladder to climb on to the aircraft, we finally took off shortly before 6 PM.

I learned how to say in Spanish, "The airplane made an emergency landing in France."

El avion hizo un aterrizate forzoso en Francia.

The Madrid Barajas airport has four terminals. Like Heathrow, terminals 1, 2 and 3 are right next to each other while terminal 4 is some distance off. From our gate, we had to take an underground rail system to reach baggage claim area (and passport control). It seemed to take forever for our luggage to appear. I then had to take a bus shuttle to get to terminal 2 in order to reach the subway/underground system called Metro. The Metro was fairly quiet by 9 PM - with extensive coverage equivalent to New York or London but with cleaner-looking cars.

I managed to settle into my hotel - Hostal Mairu - only around 10 PM. The owners do not speak English. It would have been nice if I had a dictionary with me. I learned that I had a room without a bathroom or shower for the first night and that I will be able to move to a room with a shower next day. I had to pay for the room in advance - 240 euros in cash for 8 nights.

I decided that "la llave" probably means key.

Perhaps the most inconvenient aspect of Hostal Mairu will be that I don't get a key to the outside door. I would have to ring from outside to get through the outside door (and another up after climbing up two floors). Because I expect to be out very late most nights, I tried to ask whether it is okay that I will be coming back late every night (I made up some phrases here). Despite assurances by the owner, I wonder if this will become a problem.

El Son

By the time I left Hostal Mairu to go in search of food, I was both famished and exhausted. When a place recommended by my Lonely Planet Guide did not have anyone speaking English or seemingly not very willing to help, I decided to wander around Puerta del Sol and simply look for anything halfway decent and easy. It wasn't easy even though the place was crawling with eateries. Nothing looked good - or my mind simply could not process among all the choices and make a decision. The restaurant I ended up called Restaurante TIJCAL was picked only because I happened to have seen it on the web during my search for hotels in Madrid. The food was edible (Italian) but probably inferior to Bella Italia, and I cannot imagine going back there again.

There was a Salsa club I spotted earlier nearby called El Son. At midnight (supposedly this is when things start getting interesting in Madrid Salsa scene) I was so sleepy that I wasn't sure if I wanted to go to a Salsa club. If it weren't for the fact that it was merely~100 meters away from Restaurante TIJCAL on the way back to the hotel and that there was no cover during weeknights, I might not have stopped by.

There was a Rueda circle and little else when I arrived so I took a seat and watched - for about an hour as they went from Rueda to Merengue to Bachata and finally back to Salsa but with everyone dancing Cuban. For Merengue, no Elvis Crespo (Suavemente and such) was heard, but they played a Merengue version of Vamos A Reir Un Poco (I believe originally done by Hector Lavoe). They did play a Toke D Keda song (Te Extrano) for Bachata. The Cuban dancers looked somewhat better than the ones in Cambridge (with caveat that I have never seen Nelson Batista dance).

Eventually I spotted a guy leading a girl in mostly cross body style. Also another guy who was there at the start led yet another girl with cross body (he was better with his Cuban). Thus only after an hour or so, I managed to find some candidates. When a reasonable enough Salsa song came on, I proceeded to ask some girls I eyed earlier - three in rapid succession. The first two declined (no surprise given they have no idea if I could dance Salsa). The girl I ended up with was okay but became confused several times leading to me pausing here and there to keep her balanced - it still was nice to get the first dance out of the way, and my partner seemed to enjoy the dance okay.

I then ordered a bottle of beer (on top of some wine I had during dinner) and proceeded to watch people for next half hour or so. The other two I asked before the first dance had disappeared so it seemed like waiting for another candidate to show up would be the way to go. The only Salsa song I recognized up to this point was Lloraras by Oscar D'Leon, and I opted not to change my shoes - I was wearing my heavy rubber soled shoes. By the way, the reason why I didn't ask everyone who could dance (even if just Cuban) was that I am not very good in Cuban and forcing cross body on Cuban-only follower seemed likely to lead to disaster only - not particularly fun for me and possibly worse for my partner who would be either bored or overwhelmed.

Eventually two more candidates arrived. One of them looked comfortable doing shines too. Another okay song came on, and I asked both of them in succession (the first one giving me a wait a minute type of signal and seemingly not in a hurry) and ended up dancing with the girl with some shines.

I was surprised by what happened next - everyone or practically everyone decided to skip dancing to this song and watch me and my partner. Whoa! This brought unexpected amount of pressure. To make things more challenging, my partner was rather heavy to lead (I am not talking about being overweight of course - she was if anything on slender side) although she seemed capable of following most of my leads. The song was pretty long too. By the end, I was close to shaking because of nerves. My partner seemed quite thrilled on the other hand.

I probably needed a little break at this point, and the DJ switched to another long Merengue set followed by a long Bachata set (4 Bachata in a row if I count a prematurely stopped Lamento Boliviano due to a skipping disk). Meanwhile I moved to a different section of the club because of cigarette smoking.

El Son by the way is made up of a single dance floor with seats or a bar along the walls. The floor space is comparable to two rooms of Po Na Na joined together (or equivalent to all possible dance space at Club Salsa without tables, stairs, railings, etc.

During the latter half of the Bachata set, the second girl I asked second time around spotted me and asked me for a dance. I tried to tell her that I wasn't very good, but obliged anyway for the second half of the third Bachata and the first half of the fourth Bachata before both of us gave up. I found both of these songs difficult - the fourth one was one of those songs where the percussion goes away many times. I told her that I'll find her for next Salsa and would have done so except the next Salsa song was very lame Marc Anthony (worse than Ahora Quien or Nadie Como Ella).

The next two songs sounded Columbian and I decided that enough was enough, so I asked her at the start of the second Columbian song. Although I did not do very much (because the song was uninteresting and I was rather enjoying having a light follower finally and did not want to overwhelm), she seemed happy enough with the dance. There was no crowd watching thankfully - the dance floor was already quite full by the time we started anyway. I left immediately afterwards - it must have been 3 AM by then.

April 4, 2007

Walking tour of Madrid

Originally I meant to use today for a day trip - either to Segovia or to Toledo. Because I needed to move to a different room (where I could finally take a shower), I thought it might be better to stay in town and not worry about traveling. I also wanted to save the biggest museums in particular the Prado and Reine Sofia for another day. I also needed to buy some things I forgot to pack (e.g. hairbrush) and decided to go shopping possibly for some leather goods or shoes (because Lonely Planet suggested that they are of good value here).

Beset by indecision, it took me a while to get going - even deciding on breakfast was impossible. Finally between 11 and noon, I took the Metro to Calle Serrano - the supposed premiere shopping district. Calle Serrano was okay, but I have seen its equivalent or better in many other cities - New York still being my favorite. I'm guessing France and Italy would have more impressive places to shop for fashion - not that I am anything near an expert.

I settled on doing a walking tour of Madrid after a little bit of shopping and grabbing an odd sandwich at El Corte Ingles. El Corte Ingles is the biggest department store chain in Spain - upscale at a level similar to Bloomingdales or Nordstrom or perhaps Neiman Marcus except they would have items supplied by Sears or Macys as well as having a supermarket like Marks and Spencer plus a bookstore similar in scale to Waterstones or perhaps Borders. It is also ubiquitous - I noticed three large El Corte Ingles complex at three different locations (Calle Serrano, Puerta del Sol, another spot marked by Lonely Planet as being the biggest one perhaps), and it's likely there are more major stores in Madrid [note: I also saw one to the south of Atocha next week.]. Any decent sized Spanish city probably has at least one (Sevilla and Granada did).

Navigating through Madrid was tricky - no unlike London or even Cambridge [note: I cannot believe I wrote this after having seen much worse places for navigation elsewhere.]. Many photographs were taken along the way. The pit stops were in order - Plaza de Colon, Plaza de Cibeles, Plaza de la Independencia, Plaza de Neptuno, Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Atocha (aborted), Plaza Santa Ana, Plaza de Canalejas, Puerta del Sol (which I also saw last night), Plaza de las Descalzas, Plaza Mayor, Plaza de la Villa, Plaza de la Puerto de Moros, Plaza de San Francisco, and Plaza de Oriente overlooking Palacio Real before heading back to Hostal Mairu.

I also spent about two and half hours in Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza - it was exhausting and largely unsatisfying. This museum is considered one of the three most important museums in Madrid and is notable for having one of the most wide-ranging private collection of European art in the world. While the description "wide-ranging" was appropriate I felt it was lacking depth. Also for the most part I felt as if I could have had a better time looking at most of the paintings in postcard form - exceptions included a Rubens, a couple of Van Gogh and some modern art including Piet Mondrian. Other paintings, which caught my eyes included a couple of Homer Winslow (no idea why), a rather large collection of Gaugin (mostly because seemingly none were from Tahiti) and American and English landscapes (a little irony here). There are some Rodin sculptures in the foyer area not requiring admission fee (6 euros for adult - it's free on Saturdays and Sundays). I don't think I need to or want to spend a minute more in this museum.

Randall

After a fairly exhausting walking tour of Madrid and a short rest at Hostal Mairu, I headed towards Opera Metro station to find a place for dinner before heading off to a different Salsa dance club called Randall. I was told at the first place I visited called Restaurante La Paella Real that they were closed - I arrived at 10:10 and their posted hour was to 10:30. I walked up further north to a Greek restaurant called Delfos. The food here was decent although not fabulous - I had spanakopita and gyros - still a great improvement over TIJCAL. The cook spoke some English and was friendly and helpful. The other staff members were okay but were limited in English.

I started my walk towards Randall around 11:30. The walk was a bit longer (perhaps 15 minutes on foot), and the route involved going fairly close to the local red light district according to Lonely Planet. While I did not see any visible signs of red light shops, clubs (the only potential one was right by the Opera station), I was accosted by someone wanting to know if I wanted to go to a dance club (I didn't think it was Salsa) on the way to Randall. One thought that came to my mind was, "Oh the things I do for Salsa." There were others. Also on the walk back to my hotel in this area, another guy approached me to ask or propose a question. The only word I recognized was "puta," which led me to crack a smile in amusement and saying no.

The entry to Randall cost a whopping 10 euros (as opposed to free entry at El Son). I think I could have gotten a free drink or two with the ticket, but I did not realize this at the time. They were still in the middle of doing lessons when I arrived. The lessons were all in Rueda - there were two circles comprising of about 15 couples each and the largest circle had 30+ couples. So there were well over 100 people taking lessons overall with another 30 or so watching. Randall was very large and with nice enough wood floor - think the size of LeL's dance floor and multiply it about 2.5.

I am guessing that perhaps around 15 couples who took part of the lesson stayed much longer during the social hour. There were anywhere from 12 to 30+ couples dancing at any given time, but practically everyone was dancing Cuban once again. There was one isolated couple dancing rudimentary cross body Salsa, but it seemed like they were often On5 1/2 rather than On1 or On2.

Thus more than an hour and half went by passed by with me doing nothing but sitting and watching. There was an announcement at the start of the social about there being special guests from abroad. Some of these whom I guessed to be from abroad started dancing cross body with locals before giving up quickly. Somewhat later, I saw them dancing man-on-man cross body. It was a bit depressing to see that the best cross body follower was a man. The out-of-towners then switched to Cuban whenever they took to the floor (when in Rome…) before calling it a night fairly early. Around 1 AM when some guy probably with the establishment approached me asking if I dance Salsa (and asking if he could find some girl to dance with me), I declined saying that the best follower was a guy.

Finally around 1:30 AM, I spotted a new guy and a girl dancing cross body. The guy seemed pretty decent and the girl seemed reasonably comfortable. When I took my chance to ask the girl shortly thereafter, she commented that I was dancing "la linea." I guess they call NY/LA/X-body style Salsa "La Linea" here in Spain. The dance with her was okay - she seemed okay with it too but left with a comment that I was too good.

Another hour passed by without another dance. It's all Cuban when they were not playing Merengue or Bachata - perhaps only about 50% Salsa. A typical routine would be 5-8 Salsa followed by 3-4 Merengue followed by 3-4 Bachata. At least the music was different compared to the UK. The only song I recognized all night was a Salsa song Vishal has on that 1+ hour plus CD with the word "besame" in chorus, a remix version of El Menu, a cover of Lluvia Con Nieve and Lamento Boliviano. There might have been couple of other covers too.

Meanwhile the girl I danced with earlier danced with another guy in La Linea style - he was not as good as the first guy - before dancing with the first guy again. I think they might have arrived together as a group. I also spotted yet another guy dancing X-body - with fair amount on his repertoire but with mediocre leading skills (a bit rough or with excessive movement in his leads). I did not give much mind to most girls this third guy danced with until he danced with a new tall girl twice. The girl was obviously more used to Cuban but I thought the fact that she danced twice in a row with this third guy made her a better candidate.

I asked her when the third guy was finally done. She said yes initially but decided that she really needed a cigarette break when she saw me hesitating as a very Cuban song came on. So I skipped this song and went back to the first girl for the next song. Unfortunately, she was already committed to second (lesser) of her two friends. Oh well.

What followed was another 3 Merengue followed by 3 Bachata (incl. Lamento Boliviano). I sat in the smoking section near both La Linea group and the tall girl. The rough X-body guy stopped by to ask the tall girl for a Bachata - she declined. By the way, people in Madrid dance Bachata very differently compared to almost everyone I have seen in London or Cambridge.

When Salsa finally made its return, I made a strategic decision to ask the first girl first and danced with her where I could be seen easily by the tall girl. This second dance was similar in quality to the first one except somewhat simpler because she second-guessed herself a lot - she even hesitated several times on simple cross body lead unable to go forward and complete a half turn (possibly because I was not shoving her enough?). I tried my best to be encouraging saying bueno, etc when she did better on second try without adding much more force to my lead.

At the end of my dance, I saw the tall girl getting up and moving to a different section of the floor closer to the entrance (where I had my first dance with of the evening and where most of the La Linea dances happened). I followed her quickly and asked her for a dance. What followed was my third favorite dance in Madrid thus far (not difficult to remember given that I was only on my sixth dance after 6+ hours at two different Salsa clubs). It was now ~3:30 AM.

There was no real reason to stay any longer. After a water break, I changed my shoes and got my coat on before deciding on a bathroom break first. Inside el bano, a guy asked me, "Donde eres? Where are you from?" I gave my standard, "Soy Americano. Vivo en Inglaterra. … urr "Born" in Korea, Seoul." Apparently he liked my dancing. Outside the bathroom, where I got my coat on again and grabbed my rucksack, a pair of guys (staff?) told me something like, "Baila mucho." I replied that I only danced three times. Now in mix of English and Spanish they also asked me where I was from, and I gave them my stock answer. They also told me I danced really well.

It's difficult to imagine that they saw me dance more than once - unless they caught me dancing first time nearly 2 hours before my last dance (because I was at the opposite end for my second dance). Compliments (real or pretended) are nice, but I would rather have many nice dances instead. I really hope that the number of dances (and their quality) increase dramatically during the Salsa festival.

April 5, 2007

Regarding bus trip from Madrid to Segovia and back

The bus station (run by La Sepulvedana) turned out to be more difficult to find than I expected. It is very close to the Principe Pio Metro station and is located right next to Hotel Paseo Del Florida, but the station is very difficult to spot. Even after getting a direction (in Spanish of course because most people here don't speak English) merely 20 meters away from the station, I almost walked right past it. The buses for Segovia left from a dark garage downstairs.

I found that 12:00 bus was about to leave and that it was already full. Because the buses supposedly run every 30 minutes, I walked up to the ticketing booth (which I missed seeing on the way down - it really is not easy to spot). At the booth, I was informed that I could get on the 1 PM bus. I headed off to a mall across the street (which I stumbled into earlier during my search for the bus station) on an empty stomach (no breakfast). I had some Chinese food - it was terrible. The mall by the way offered free wi-fi, which I could have used if my laptop was not broken.

I think the bus company scheduled two buses for 1 PM - not sure if there was a 12:30 bus. It's worth knowing that you have to reserve a seat for the return trip once in Segovia. I overheard the bus driver explaining that reservation should be made 30 minutes in advance (in Spanish of course - the words I heard included reservado medio hora …) I was able to get a seat with a little over 10 minutes before departing but only after getting told by the bus driver that I needed to change my ticket as I tried to board the bus. The seats are assigned but the assignments are not always followed.

Pictureque Segovia

Segovia is a great tourist city. As the bus was about to turn left onto the station, I spotted the cathedral up ahead and the aqueduct to the right. Seeing these two monuments made me decide immediately that this was going to be good.

As recommended by Lonely Planet and elsewhere, I turned toward the Aqueduct first. It was a very short walk but I spotted couple of nice looking old churches on the way. The aqueduct (the first of its kind I had ever set my eyes on) was fabulous. Supposedly it is one of the best preserved one in the world.

Deviating a little from the recommended route, I climbed up the stairs adjacent to the aqueduct to reach the fortifications up above before rejoining the main tourist route via a side road by the walls. The road to the cathedral was littered with more old and well-preserved buildings. The density of photogenic buildings was phenomenal.

Despite having seen a much larger and a very impressive cathedral in Sevilla in my previous trip to Spain, I thought the Segovia cathedral was quite nice and had nice interior worth the cost of admission. Spaniards poured a great deal of their wealth from Americas into building cathedrals and such and it really shows.

The tour of the alcazar by contrast was somewhat disappointing. The exterior is gorgeous, and the number of tourist was greater here compared to inside the cathedral. However, I did not find the contents inside particularly interesting - some armors, some weapons including artillery, and some furniture. It was lacking depth for my taste. They also decided to use about 1/3 of the space into a military museum presumably because they ran out of interesting artefacts. I still ended up spending more time than needed because I had to wait long time to photograph more interesting objects without a crowd of people surrounding it - some rooms were not worth waiting because not even an hour seemed likely to be enough to get the room emptied.

The last place I paid to enter was Iglesia de la Vera Cruz - built in the 13th century by the Knights Templar. This side quest involved walking down a steep path down the hill and crossing a bridge over a stream - Rio Eresma. It also gave me a nice view of the alcazar from down below.

Instead of taking a standard route back, I decided to follow a wide dirt path along the stream I found before crossing the bridge. This path turned into a rather nice park and a path seemingly used exclusively by the locals - I think I was the only obvious tourist. I stayed on this path until the end - opting repeatedly against crossing the stream via two more stone bridges possibly leading back to a more touristy route. At the end of the path, I crossed a wooden bridge to find myself in another area devoid of tourists. I don't think I saw any tourists for about half an hour while I was on this route - only some locals - until I reached to Roman way, which led me back to the aqueduct. A nice tranquil excursion tinged with local color. Unfortunately my batteries were running very low so I ha to severely curtail taking photographs after Iglesia de la Cruz. Tons of photographs.

This ship is sinking

For dinner before the first night of the Madrid Salsa Simposium, I settled on a Mexican restaurant - Restaurante de Birra near Plaza de San Francisco. At 10 PM there was going to be a long wait and a fluent English-speaking hostess suggested that I either wait or maybe come back in 30 minutes. I was rather relieved to hear this because earlier I had made my second attempt at going to Restaurante La Paella Real, where the waiter told me that the restaurant is full and that they don't serve for just one customer anyway. He also suggested that I find a girl outside (I was assured that there were many of them outside) and come back with one. I opted to spend about 30 minutes taking some night photographs of nearby monuments.

I had to wait a bit longer (maybe 10-15 minutes?) when I returned at 10:30. Not bad because I was not in a hurry. I was not keen on catching the up-and-coming dancer's showcase scheduled from 11:30 to 1 AM. The waiter did not speak English as well as the hostess. The food was decent - better for my palate than previous two evenings. I had quesadillas and tacos. After dinner, I went back to Hostal Mairu to "freshen up" before heading off to La Sala Riviera - I probably arrived around 12:30.

Bring fashionably late seems to mean something different in Spain. Registrations were supposed to start at 10 PM and dancing at 10:30 PM, so I had not expected there to be a long line to buy tickets at 12:30 AM. It seemed like I arrived at the worst possible time also because for next 30 minutes or so I was consistently near the end of the line as it gradually became shorter. It did lead to me having a conversation with a couple of Germans - Oliver and Walter, who informed me that I might have had a better luck finding people dancing cross body at the Tropical House - near Randall.

Another thing I did not expect when I finally got inside at 1 AM was to find everyone in chairs. The shows have not started yet! With the exception of the Frankie Martinez show on Sunday, I had zero interest in watching any of the shows - certainly not those of up-and-comers. The first troupe did not even use any music - presumably in an effort to seem very avant garde. Other music overheard used for the shows included a couple of Prince songs including The Kiss, Spanish version of "Killing Me Softly With His Song" and something from the Grease movie soundtrack. In fact with the exception of couple of acts near the end, hardly anyone used more than 50% Salsa or Cha Cha as accompanying music.

I found one Portuguese couple towards the end tolerable mostly because they used Salsa music for throughout. Otherwise the only time I was entertained was when a trio called Queenstyle inexplicably appeared and left without dong anything, which was followed by the next act failing to appear on cue. Unfortunately, the next act did appear in the end to do a fetish show, and Queenstyle trio also appeared at the end to bore me.

When the show ended, the chairs all over the place were cleared mostly by people in attendance. What I found underneath was large number of puddles and huge amount of trash on the floor. I was quite appalled and thought that it would take a while for the organizers to clean the floor. I was wrong. They didn't clean the floor. I was flabbergasted. It was a big mess - dancing with all sorts of litter and liquid all over the place. There was no wood floor in the main dancing area.

Most people dancing (it seemed to be no more than a third to a half of the attendants at a given time with many people seemingly not dancing at all - including Oliver and Walter) were dancing La Linea. Surprisingly large number was neither On1 nor On2 although there were also some reasonably smooth leads. It seemed like very few people with limited repertoire felt brave enough to dance among this crowd. On the other side, there were no superstars either. In my book, neither is good because the beginners would be expecting and wanting fancy moves even if they are not ready for it and because a really enjoyable dance seemed unlikely with mediocre people.

I probably ended up dancing fair bit with whatever qualified as "stars" of the evening. This is not really saying very much. Most of them were nightmare to lead - overly stiff, cannot stay in close distance and using techniques that unbalances me. I felt like I sometimes was being abused by rough followers. Although I did end up dancing a fair bit compared to last two nights (surely over 20 dances), but I did not feel like I was dancing with a refrigerator only a few times all evening.

Much later in the evening I spotted a familiar face from SOS. His name I learned is Jaime (or Jamie … I didn't ask for spelling). Upon seeing me he asked, "Lead me." Urrrrgh. Oh no. Could I have refused? Maybe. I didn't tonight. Jaime wasn't a great follow, but he probably was a lighter follow compared to most tonight - no worse than median. There were some downsides. I think I might have gone through two songs with him thanks to the DJ fusing the songs. He was also very sweaty so my right sleeve in contact with his back got drenched. Not good times.

I still ended up staying until nearly 5 AM. It was far from a great night. The conditions could have been a lot better (floor and people more than music). Given everyone's dancing and presumably expecting to dance at 150% all the time, practicing On2 might be hopeless. The late start to the evening is not ideal.

All songs played were either Salsa or Cha Cha (surprisingly large number of Cha Cha). Some unexpected songs included Yo No Tengo Amigo (Mark Dimond/Frankie Dante) and Brujeria (Mark Dimond/Angel Canales). My dance to the former song seemed to have led to another girl to ask me for a dance to the latter song immediately afterwards. Many songs played contained many transitions as well as confusing passages. I wondered why because rather large number of people seemed off time. Is it possible that the DJs don't know any better? Putting it another way, the music was more consistently challenging to dance than it is at SOS or BritSalsafest even though I didn't think there were more people who could cope with the complexity. My expectations for this Madrid Salsa outing continues to plummet.

April 6, 2007

Good Friday

Today seemed like a good day to spend all day at the Prado. It's cold and rainy. Toledo is a better bet for Saturday and Museo Reine Sofia a better bet for Monday (because most places are closed on Monday). I took the Metro from Opera to Atocha via Gran Via. It took me a while to orient myself coming out of the Metro station - another reason why taking the Metro won't always save time. I headed north up Paseo Prado and reached a point between Prado and Botanical Gardens.

During my walking tour of Madrid on Wednesday, I did not see an obvious entrance along Paseo Prado - this south side seemed as good a bet as any. However, now it was very unclear how I would get in - there were construction or renovation work although no one was working. Because I thought the entrance might be located in some odd courtyard (like in Thyssen), I took a look around and eventually ended up completely circling the Prado. At the north end of the building was advertisement for Tintoretto exhibition, but there was no entrance there either. On my walk back to the south side along Paseo Prado, I struck a conversation with a young couple (the girl could speak English). She said the main entrance was at the middle of the building along Paseo Prado but that they moved the entrance for renovation. At the south end where I originally started, there was another closed door without any sign that this is the temporary entrance. It seemed like there was no notice as to what's going on until I spotted a bronze plaque listing days when the museum was closed. I asked the girl, "Is today Good Friday?" So it would seem that the Prado is open on Easter but not on Good Friday. Now what? I settled on nearby Museo Reine Sofia grudgingly. I'll just have to think of something different to do on Monday.

Arguably the centerpiece of Museo Reine Sofia is Picasso's Guernica. What I found pleasing about Reine Sofia was that Guernica was surrounded by many fascinating sketches/studies leading to it as well as photographs documenting the progress of Guernica. Other Picasso works included large number of Vollard suites (sketches of nudes and minotaurs), which were made few years before Guernica. There was nothing from blue or red periods and very little from Afro-cubism period. Another highlight was a fairly large collection of Salvador Dali. A very large collection of Joan Miro (very singular in vision for a very long time unlike Picasso who I consider to be more of a chameleon) was also present. Perhaps the most amusing work of Miro I spotted was what one might call "Before they became stars" paintings. Similarly early works of Dali dabbling in impressionism and cubism (before he found his calling) were interesting too.

Temporary exhibitions included Chuck Close - a painter of large faces. Pretty much all of the paintings were on loan from other museums with New York's MoMA and Whitney providing multiple works. Seeing 20+ paintings of Close made it easier to get his "shtick" (I found his finger painting the most amusing). Exhibition of Darrio Villalba was made interesting in part by the museum layout, which gave it a scavenger hunt feeling to it. It also gave an element of déjà vu as I found same faces in multiple locations (which led to me wondering if I should "know" the subject). There also was an exhibit (not a temporary one?) of video artists, who used television as their medium. It looked like they had to replace the television set periodically whenever an old set broke down (with the television set seemingly donated by manufacturers from the country of artist's birth). In some cases, the piece seemingly was given a very different look compared to original construction by adding new television set and placing them in between the old original television boxes. It could be interesting what would happen when CRTs become obsolete.

All in all I spent over six hours at Reine Sofia and came away feeling very cold because I chose to check in my coat. About an hour was spent watching old movies made by Luis Bunuel with input from Salvador Dali. I was tired but also satisfied - more so than at Thyssen. I decided at the end that I even liked a very minimal map provided by the museum.

Sleep first, dance later

Three dinners in Madrid and no Spanish food - I thought it was about time I rectify this mistake as I walked up Calle Atocha. And then I spotted a Korean restaurant just before Anton Martin Metro station. After living in England for 3+ years, I never had Korean food in Europe. A dilemma. I opted for instant gratification. Unlike past three nights of late dinners (starting between ~10:30 and ~11 PM), I started tonight's dinner shortly after 8:30 PM. Sated and stuffed with familiar food, I walked back to Hostal Mairu and went to sleep at 10:30 PM.

I set an alarm to go off at 2:20 AM. After getting up I took a shower and drank plenty of mineral water before heading off to La Riviera - I arrived at 3 AM determined to maximize my use of time dancing and dispense with queues and shows.

I successfully avoided the shows of the invited guests. However, as I was about to have my first dance of the evening, they started the semi-final of some Salsa dance competition, which was supposed to have started at 2:30 AM. There were four heats with international panel of judges including Nuno and Vanda (from Portugal) and Susana Montero.

It was nearly impossible to get a good view of the competition even if I were interested. However, I was relieved to see that the floor was much cleaner than last night - they seemed to have waxed the floor. Also the caliber of followers seemed much better tonight - not better than at SOS or at BritSalsafest, but still a much welcome improvement over previous evening.

After three dances or so (and feeling much better about this event), I ran into Susana, who expressed a great surprise about the large number of people dancing (as well as showing surprise in seeing me here). Aside from Jaime, I also spotted one other from the London scene - a girl I probably saw at the Scala. Including Leon Rose (who stayed to the bitter end tonight unlike Susana), I only counted five people from the London Salsa scene (out of perhaps <1000 attendants).

Things did not get markedly better after initial sign of improvement, but it was still alright. Some of the girls seemed interested in dancing On2 (and seemed to think I could dance On2), but I didn't because I didn't feel up to it and didn't think they would be interested in someone who still fumbles around On2. The fact that I would have had difficulty explaining that I'm a mere beginner On2 using Spanish was another reason to avoid it.

Two more Markolino Dimond songs were played - Los Rumberos and (again) Yo No Tengo Amigo. Music seemed better than yesterday.

It still seemed like relatively few superstars were out social dancing tonight. Leon Rose was dancing when I first arrived, but I didn't see him again until closing time. Both Vanda and Susana Montero were gone by 4-4:30 AM. There was one guy who I didn't know but looked and acted every bit a superstar did stay to social dance until the end - about 5:40-5:45 or about 15-20 minutes earlier than advertised.

April 7, 2007

My plans keep changing

I am now sitting on a bench surrounded by paintings by Goya. There are so many Goya here - perhaps around 50. It's similar to the situation at Reine Sofia with Miro except even more extreme. I have been here for 3 hours now, and I am probably 90% done with this place.

If one has flexibility about when to visit Madrid, I would recommend against Easter. It's full of tourists. My original plan was to do a day trip to Toledo. I did not make it because all the trains were full - another monkey wrench thrown into the plan. Perhaps buying a train ticket a day in advance would have prevented this.

After lunch (KFC today, McDonalds yesterday), I headed off to Museo Prado - originally meant for yesterday and then switched over to tomorrow. I misplaced my ticket for 3 museums so I had to buy another one. There was a very long queue, and it started raining again.

As I waited, I reorganized my itinerary. My tentative plan is Palacio Real Sunday morning, Avila Sunday afternoon, Toledo Monday and maybe Salamanca Tuesday. I suspect that I won't be able to keep this schedule.

Just as it is the case in the other two major museums here, Prado does not allow visitors to carry a rucksack. Handbags are okay. At least they don't charge you to rent a locker for 1 euro as they did in Reine Sofia. Prado also seems warmer than in Reine Sofia - it got a bit warm in a coat after some walking.

My tour of Prado was done more or less by chronological order as organized by Prado - starting from old (1100 to 1600) on the ground floor then going to the first floor (1550 to 1850) then to the second floor (1700 to 1850). I have yet to go down to the basement (decorative arts?).

First floor has some pretty Raphael, self-portrait of Durer, and some Hieronymus Bosch including his most famous painting "The Garden of Earthly Delights." The Bosch attracted the most number of onlookers for an individual painting in the entire museum - there's a lot to look at in this painting.

The three main draws in the second floor are Las Meninas by Velazquez (I found it a little underwhelming in person), The Third of May 1808 by Goya and the El Greco paintings in room 9A (I find El Greco more consistently interesting and visually arresting compared to Velazquez. Among Velazquez, I preferred La Rendicion de Breda (a.k.a. The Lances) over Las Meninas when viewed in person. This was in part because of less crowding and a presence of a bench in front of Breda. My impression of Velazquez's royal subjects: Felipe III - arrogant and ineffective, Felipe IV - weak and ineffective.

As I said earlier, Prado has tons of Goya. The first set of examples I saw - portraits of important people from 1780s onwards - were in my opinion a bit ordinary. I was more impressed by the black paintings from his last years; they seemed surprisingly modern and fascinating in general.

Another take on the black paintings I overheard (given by a handsome but a little stern-looking woman to a group of teenagers in her charge) was as follows, "Remember the paintings we just saw of royalty? Same guy. He went mad. (pause) That's the 50 cent guided tour version." Looking at the painting of Saturn (a.k.a. Cronos) eating one of his children, the teenagers nodded in appreciation.

When I made my way to the second floor, I found yet more Goya but from an earlier period (1770s) but of plain subjects - quite nice and pleasant to look at. I preferred these over Goya as painter of the VIP.

Coda. I never got around to finishing my tour of the Prado. I spent too much time writing. All of sudden it was closing time and I was kicked out.

This should be the biggest night of the festival, right?

When I exited the Prado, I consulted my Lonely Planet again for possible dinner options. A couple of Cuban restaurants jumped out to my eyes. I never had Cuban before. I ended up at Tocororo along Calle del Prado. It was barely past 8 PM, which suited me just fine. I was seated next to timbales and listened to recorded Cuban music. The owners and my waitress all spoke fluent English. It was fun. I was in bed by 9:30 PM with alarm set for 2 AM.

I found La Riviera more crowded than ever making me wonder if I should have set my alarm for a later hour. After about a hour and half and with conditions still resembling Scala Bank holidays at their worst, I decided that coming later would not have made things better. Dancing became manageable only after 4:30-5 AM or just over an hour before closing time.

I had expected tonight to have the most number of good dancers. Perhaps this was true, but finding them was challenging. For the first 1 1/2 hours, I gave up on the main floor and hung around the "star's corner" offering both positives (a little more space much of the time) and negatives (phalanx of gawkers three lines deep and with increasing number brining chairs to park themselves). Unfortunately most of the girls in this area were usually merely competent rather than superlative. I would guess that I had 8-10 dances in this area before moving to the main area when it finally cleared up a little.

In many ways, the last hour or so was more pleasant - less pressure and somewhat easier to find okay girls even though there seemed to be a huge surplus of men. On the whole I did not find the atmosphere as good as last night.

It's curious that I still haven't heard very many familiar songs. Notable exceptions were Sun Sun Babae (Tito Rodriguez Jr) and Brujeria (Mark Dimond/Angel Canales - what is going on with Mark Dimond? A disproportionate number of familiar songs are by Mark Dimond). For a change, they ended on time - closing at 6 AM.

April 8, 2007

Stranger in strange land

Consider this. I slept from around 9:30 to 2 and then set my alarm for 9 after going to bed again at 6:15. That should be close to 8 hours of sleep, which should be enough. Right? No. Unlike at 2 AM, I was too tired to get up at 9 AM. I managed to get up shortly after noon after total of 11 hours in bed.

The plan for visiting Palacio Real in the morning was scratched. Instead I decided to concentrate on doing one thing only - to visit the walls of Avila. Easier said than done.

I arrived at Atocha Renfe station only around 1:30 PM (not helped by getting off a wrong station and arguably picking a wrong route in the first place - going via Gran Via rather than via Sol). It took 30 minutes of wait before I could purchase a ticket to Avila - take a number and wait whether there is a ticketing agent working or not.

When I purchased my ticket with minimal use of English, I was informed that the train would depart at 2:15 - or about 5 minutes from then - by track number "five" downstairs to the right. After struggling a bit finding out how to get past the automatic gates (I could not - I had to go through a special entrance after showing my ticket to an official), I rushed down to the platform.

Once downstairs I regretted not having found a time to grab something to eat. Contrary to my initial expectation, it would take over 2 hours to get to Avila (rather than expected 1 1/2 hours). I learned that this was because I started from Atocha rather than Chamartin (a train station in North Madrid).

Staying in the assigned seats was enforced more strictly in the train compared to in the buses (i.e. Segovia -- although on the return trip from Segovia had some seating rearrangements resulting in me having a guy from South Africa living in London as a neighbour. He talked about the weather in Madrid being very cold last week as well as this week and also about visiting Palacio Real and becoming excited by the treasures inside like a little grandmother). I don't recall having assigned seats in the U.S.A. in a typical Amtrack train. I don't recall assigned seating in England. I don't remember Germany. I ended up changing seats and coaches because I didn't know any better.

As the train parked at Chamartin for a long time, I asked myself whether I really enjoy traveling. After some consideration, I decided that it was not too bad. I could get used to it and become better at it although it's not fun having to worry about food all the time. It's also a bit alarming how fast money disappears. Limited ability to speak local language adds challenge, etc, but…

A conversation in English was struck with an English teacher from Leon returning from her Alicante vacation shortly after departing from Chamartin. She lived in London for about 8 years. Upon hearing my misadventures at Restaurante La Paella Real, she recommended that I try a Paella restaurant on Portobello Road in London. Also upon learning that I had no lunch, she informed me that this particular train had a nice dining car - I took advantage of it later. She seemed very interested in practicing her English with a native (or a near native) speaker and turned out to be a bundle of information.

After getting off the train at Avila around 4:25, I spent another 20 minutes taking a number and waiting to reserve a ticket for the return trip because even though I had requested a two-way ticket for today there was no sign of a guarantee for return today on my ticket. When my number was finally called, I was horrified to learn that all the trains to Madrid today were full. I expressed horror and outrage upon learning this, and the agent told me to go to another line (thankfully short). The new agent was no more help though, and neither spoke English. A customer came to rescue - the solution was to get a ticket without a seat. Considering that my initial reason for picking Madrid now was to catch the Frankie Martinez Abakua show, I really had no choice - I forked over another 3 euros for the return trip scheduled to depart at 7:20 PM.

Now with everything settled (whatever that means), I bolted out of the train station knowing that I only had about 2 1/2 hours. I spent most of the time walking around the walls of the old city - the big highlight of Avila. By the time I completed my walk and entered the old city to reach the cathedral (which by the way is a part of the fortifications), it was already 6:40 PM. There was no time for the tour of the wall itself or other monuments. It was such a hurried affair that I don't think I will remember anything aside from the walls (I can imagine looking at the photographs later and wondering where they are from).

The big problem now was food. I hoped for a dining car in the train. Unfortunately there was none. Worse yet, the train was about 30 minutes late. It was past 9 PM when the train finally arrived at Chamartin. Frankie's show was scheduled to start at 10 PM - I would prefer to have a decent seat. I did not have my shoes either and would have wanted to change also. It could have been worse - I almost boarded a local train instead and arrive even later - the train official told me off the train saying that I should take the next train arriving in 5 minutes (actually 35 minutes).

I could not find my Metro pass with 4 tickets remaining when I arrived at Chamartin leading me to buy another 10. Going to Hostal Mairu first seemed like a bad idea. I decided to head to Principe Pio (the closest Metro station for La Riviera … Opera is the second closest) and maybe pick up some fast food at the mall. However this option also became untenable as the Metro train seemingly stopped at next three stations for 5 minutes each. It was 9:45 PM when I arrived at Principe Pio with another 5-10 minutes walk remaining. With no food, I arrived at La Riviera just before 10.

It turned out that the organizers would not let anyone without a purple band (I'm guessing full pass with lessons for advanced classes) get a seat until 5 minutes before the start of the show. The general public was seated about 5 minutes after I arrived. I chose a seat rather far back but with decent sightlines to the right side of the stage.

The hour long show was divided into two segments - Raices and After Hour Funk. Raices starts with a rolling text introduction with curtains closed. When the curtain opens, Frankie Martinez is seen standing alone with his back to the audience and his body bathed in purple overhead light. Frankie's body is highly elongated not unlike figures from El Greco paintings. He moves very little but it is quite impressive when he moves. According to Sergio, Frankie seemed to have remodelled his body and have become thinner yet with a lot of muscular definition presumably to make his body more visually striking for shows.

Eight Abakua dancers were present - Frankie Martinez, Manny Blackett, Keren Ashri, Erika Herera, Aisha Koswara, Melissa Montero, Jimmy Ruiz and Lori Perez. No Johnny Matos.

Raices had only individuals dancing or group dancing without any partner work. There are many rapid changes of casts. Several attention grabbing solos by Frankie Martinez are included as well as a solo by Lori Perez done to Yo Soy Babalu (Richie Ray and Bobby Cruz). Another song I recognized was La Libertad/Logico (Eddie Palmieri). At 30 minutes, I found the show very good and engaging even though it was much longer than a typical Salsa dance showcase.

At the completion of Raices (and a standing ovation), Frankie Martinez motioned to the audience to sit down and holding one finger up to indicate that there is more coming. When the curtain was open again, there was a man and a woman in a contorted position. Hmm. These two look different - are they also a part of Abakua? This couple seemed more LA with more acrobatics and less graceful leads I would have expected from Abakua dancers. When yet another couple came on (Roi and ?) and a music based on Rocky theme came on (how trite!), I was no longer confused. The first couple did okay, but the second couple seemed very messy and had 3-4 noticeable stumbles while doing a generally uninspiring choreography.

The second half of the Abakua show After Hours Funk was marred a bit in the beginning by a curtain malfunction - apparently the people to the left side of the stage could not see anything for the first few minutes. Frankie Martinez was more a part the group for this show rather than an obvious center of attention by design. By this I mean that other dancers often occupied more central place with Frankie sometimes all the way in the back. There was some partner dancing for this segment with Manny Blackett doing more partner-dancing than Frankie. I think this segment had Lori Perez doing a solo to Welcome to the Party (Har-You Percussion Group). It was pretty good too but it got a little repetitive for me after a while - I let out a small yawn a little more than 2/3rd way through After Hours Funk - I yawn a lot.

It was past 11:40 when the show ended. I went out for a quick bite to eat (Burger King was the nearest option) and then went back to Hostal Mairu to shower and change. I returned to La Riviera around 12:30-1 AM.

As expected the crowd was smaller tonight. I never saw Frankie or Manny social dance (I would have difficulty recognizing the third guy Jimmy) although most (at least 4) of the Abakua girls seemed to have stayed until the end - even if they were not in sight most of the time. I also don't recall seeing Leon Rose or Susana Montero tonight - I should have grabbed my chance to dance with Susana on Friday.

Overall the quality of dancers was better tonight compared to other nights. By this I mean mostly that the leads were more impressive - flashier and good-looking all around. I have difficulty believing that most of these men are from Madrid. Same can be said for most of the good followers although I don't think there were as many out-of-town girls at this Salsa festival/simposium. I would not be surprised if many of the leads were visiting from Italy, etc.

I liked the music tonight better than last night - at least at the same level as Friday. From Mark Dimond Los Rumberos was played again (that's 3 Mark Dimond songs played twice each!). Also heard was Viva Cepeda (Cal Tjader), which led to another dance with a partner who was not quite ready for it once again for me - arguably I also am not ready to dance to this song. It also seemed that Cha Cha was played fewer times compared to last three nights. I had given up on Cha Cha after the first night because the followers were either not very good at first. But now, I chose not to dance to Cha Cha because there were so many good leads whether they were On2 or On6. It's the same reason why I decided not to pursue practicing On2 here in Madrid.

Also for the first time in Madrid, I had 2-3 dances I really enjoyed and would have ranked as top 3 for a good SOS night or top 5 for some of the BritSalsafest nights.

One such enjoyable dance was with a somewhat older Russian woman , whom I had a dance with last night. On previous occasion, I was so struck by how nice it was to lead her that I ended up making the dance quite simple - this also happened because the song was fairly short and also because last night was rather poor overall and also because half-way through the song I decided to save my moves for a second dance. One of the reasons why struck out (aside from her non-Spanish features and her age) was her attire - everyday clothes including denim jacket and blue jeans. Before I asked her for a dance first time, I was already amused by her because she was following pretty much everything her partner was leading never panicking but also showing definite signs of surprise (discretely disapproving) whenever the lead did something questionable. Mostly she wore a closed facial expression and looked pleased only when she really was amused or pleased. During my dance with her tonight, I was happy to notice her smiling a few times (unlike the previous night when she gave no signs - nothing negative nor positive). It was gratifying to see that my best measured up in her eyes. It was one of a very rare occasion this week when I used pretty much everything in my arsenal and give the follower extra spins. I also noted after my dance with her that some guys were leading quadruple turns for her with her not blinking an eye and staying perfectly on the spot. She also showed a rather impressive body movement when dancing with other better leads (although she seemed to refrain from showing off when dancing with guys of lesser ability). Apparently she has been dancing for 4 years. This being Salsa, I did not learn her name, but I suppose it's possible that I would run into her in some other congress/festival/whatever.

It seemed like I was driven to cough a fair bit tonight. At first I wondered if I had a cold coming on, but later I thought that this could be due to there being so much cigarette smoking around.

The place emptied precipitously by around 4 AM. The organizers started talking about closing, and it seemed increasingly useless to ask anyone for a dance - I came to this conclusion after a string of declines over course of two songs. I guess that's the way it is when you are a stranger to pretty much everyone. As it has been case throughout, there also were more men than women. As the DJ cued what he called the last song, some people started chanting "otra" - seemed natural enough - maybe. After this song another "otra" was called but only by one woman and she was on a microphone. The regular people in attendance by contrast seemed quite ready to go home. I thought the scene was a little humorous. After spotting the Abakua girls on my way out and telling Lori, "Great show," I left.

Thus ended the Salsa part of my Spain trip. Frankie Martinez's show was interesting, but I didn't feel I learned anything new otherwise or get a substantial amount of useful practice (other than having danced at a new environment with a whole lot of new people). I still think learning to dance On2 would be very useful. Same with Cha Cha (and I think Cha Cha could be improved at the same time as On2). I don't think being able to dance On2 would have mattered with local haughty mafia-wannabe followers, but it would be nice when dancing with New Yorkers and people who are more in for dancing rather than status or some such thing.

April 9, 2007

Will it ever stop raining?

As I looked out the window to find wet pavement I wondered if it will continue to rain pretty much everyday. There was none on the evening of my arrival and again on the day of my excursion to Segovia, but all other days saw some rain. It has been cold too - I never felt overdressed wearing my overcoat. I had even put my gloves on at the alcazar in Segovia.

After the Avila fiasco, I decided that a trip to Salamanca would be foolhardy. I also thought going to Toledo could be helped by buying tickets a day in advance. So I first headed off to Palacio Real - a mere 5 minute walk from Hostal Mairu around mid-day.

There are three parts to the tour of Palacio Real - the armory, the pharmacy and the palace itself. The former two did not require an entry fee, but I decided to take a look at everything. Palacio Real was not in my plans originally, and it turned out to be as interesting as my other major destinations. The armory for example was much more impressive than the one at the Segovia alcazar. I suppose Palacio Real could be considered the biggest (or at least the richest) Spanish alcazar of them all. Photography without flash was allowed unlike in the museums (of course).

I spent remainder of the afternoon and early evening in the Retiro Mediodia Gardens and Royal Botanical Gardens. Intermittent rain gave way to a more serious rain while I was in the Botanical Gardens - I ended up taking refuge under cover of trees for some time before giving up and heading out near closing time.

Next I spent an hour waiting to purchase my tickets to and from Toledo for tomorrow. I think this must be the fact of life in Madrid - wait 30 minutes to buy a train ticket for travel today and wait an hour to buy train tickets for another day. It probably is possible to buy tickets on-line, but I did not have an internet access. Perhaps a laptop plus a trip to McDonalds with wi-fi would have done the trick.

Dinner was at the same Korean restaurant along Calle Atocha - Restaurante Han Gang. It wasn't as good as the first time. In bed by midnight.

April 10, 2007

Maze of Toledo and 15 pieces of chicken

The alarm was set for 8:10. I was out of Hostal Mairu a little after 8:30. I have a sore throat.

The train journey from Atocha to Toledo (9:20 to 9:50 by a fast train) was unremarkable. The bus trip to Segovia had views of snow-filled mountains. The train journey to Avila had deep valleys as well as snowy mountains. Supposedly I missed a pretty good view of El Escorial on the way to Avila. The train had a dining car (for such a short journey!), but I had already grabbed a sandwich earlier.

As I got out of the train station to get another good look at the old city of Toledo atop a hill, I decided that Toledo probably won't be as photogenic as Segovia or Avila. Like everywhere else in Spain, there was a lot of construction work in progress. The best thing I could say was that the train station (in the middle of nowhere) was easy to spot.

The only monument highly visible from down below was the alcazar, but it wasn't very good looking. Much of it was destroyed during the civil war in the 20th century, and the rebuilding job done under Franco was okay but not very thrilling after all the monument watching done over the past week. To my tired and jaded eyes, little on the walk up the hill seemingly lasting an eternity inspired me.

The alcazar was closed for renovation. Even though it supposedly contained only a military museum, I had planned to spend some time there. My thoughts ran, "What am I going to do until 7:25 PM when my train goes back to Madrid?"

I next found myself next to the cathedral - also not particularly photogenic. I could not find the entrance so I went into the tourist information building to ask for help (for the first time ever in Spain). They unfortunately gave me a wrong direction and I ended up almost completely circling the cathedral before finally finding the ticket booth and the entrance.

Pleasant surprise waited inside the cathedral. It looks pretty much like any old Spanish cathedral (with caveat that my definition of prototypical cathedral are the gigantic one in Sevilla and the one in Segovia - I don't remember about the cathedral in Granada). In addition to usual naves, cloisters, coro, chapels, etc, the cathedral contained Capilla de la Torre (which contained a monstrous "Custodia de Arfe" made up of 18 kg of pure gold and 183 kg of silver and bristling with some 260 statuettes), Sacristy (which doubles as a museum and houses many artwork done by El Greco as well as other major artists), and the chapterhouse with gold-plated ceiling and paintings of all archbishops and equivalent of Toledo. Another remarkable thing was the despite all signs against photography, everyone was taking photographs often with flash - photographs were taken of El Greco paintings also.

Next on agenda was lunch - I was so weary that I was ready to drop. I finally picked a Spanish restaurant called Bacus. I was tempted by the paella but settled for the menu of the day (better deal supposedly) with soup and salmon.

Next was a scavenger hunt for El Greco painting in the old city. The first one was easy - it was right around the corner from the lunch spot, and the advertisement for the biggest El Greco painting (El Entierre de Conde de Orgaz) was advertised prominently in front of the church (Iglesia de Santa Tome). In fact it was easier to tell that the El Greco painting was inside rather than the name of the church from outside. Nearby Museo de El Greco was closed for renovations, and its contents were temporarily housed in nearby Museo de Victorio Macho (Victorio Macho is a 20th century artist based in Toledo). The highlight of Museo de El Greco (aside from an unexpected free admission) was a version of Tears of Stain Peter and there were several other good ones.

A brief break from El Greco was taken by visiting Iglesia de San Juan de los Reyes. Supposedly this is the prettiest church in all of Toledo, but most of the façade was covered for renovations. Inside seemed nice enough, and I liked the orange trees in the courtyard.

Back to El Greco, but this time I was challenged by the maze of Toledo streets. I had briefly ventured in the quiet and very narrow labyrinth in the barrio to the south of cathedral intentionally for fun. But now, getting lost in a more touristy part but a little bit away from the major route quickly became annoying. Eventually I found Convento del Santo Domingo El Antiguo, which was not particularly worthwhile. I wondered if the nuns in this convent made as much money selling marzipan than by showing El Greco. Museo de Santa Cruz was better (and free to boot), but I almost missed it because I first wandered off into the temporary exhibit about Visigoths. After running around the museum and almost circling it needlessly, I entered the permanent collection rooms with El Greco only after official opening hours - fortunately they let me say for a few minutes.

I found Toledo to be a bit ugly and sometimes garish. There seemed to be a lot of history, and it's not lacking for monuments. Generally speaking what was inside was quite impressive - more so than in the cathedral of Sevilla or anything in Segovia - but Segovia is really pretty and nice all around. I think I would have zero interest in living in Toledo (not that I would want to live in any place I visited in Spain with Sevilla probably being the most acceptable).

For my last meal in Spain, I opted for another Cuban restaurant - Restaurante La Negra Tomasa near Puerta del Sol. I ordered Cojimar (a shrimp or camarones dish with rice and fried bananas) and a side of fried chicken wings. Cojimar arrived first - this was essentially the same dish I had at the other Cuban place - El Tocororo - except the portions were more generous here. When they brought the fried chicken wings after prodding, I was astonished by the portion. So much so that I decided to count - there were 15 pieces! I felt like I was back in America. I finished everything including the salad (cucumbers and shredded carrots). It was great. I don’t think the portions in Spain are any greater than in Britain - even the Korean restaurant had tiny portions by American standards.

I was in bed before 11:30. All I need is to get to the airport on time (although one never knows what could happen afterwards). I have done no reading whatsoever - I brought two books with me. My iPod was used only on the trip from London to Madrid (mostly in the plane and a little bit in France).

April 11, 2007

The return

My flight was to depart at 7:40 AM. I set my alarm for 5:42. I would have been perfectly happy to take the Metro, but I didn't think I could make it on time - the Metro starts operating at 6 AM and it only serves Terminals 1-3 (I would have taken a shuttle to Terminal 4. I also would have needed two train changes with the Metro system).

Finding a taxi on Calle Mayor was very easy (as the owner of Hostal Mairu assured me) - it took me less than 5 seconds to hail one starting at 6 AM on the dot. At cost of a little over 26 euros, I arrived at Terminal 4 around 6:25. With absolutely no line asie from the one about 4-6 people deep at the security check-in, I only arrived at my gate S25 around 6:55 with minimal dawdling - there was another underground rail system to take me from the terminal to the gate taking 15+ minutes on the train. I think if the Metro had a separate stop for Terminal 4, taking public transportation system might have been okay - it may have cost only about 10 extra minutes.

The flight was uneventful. In fact the rest of the trip was pretty easy - aside from a mad scramble at Kings Cross. The biggest surprise? It was sunny and warm in England - much nicer than in Spain.

Postscript

I don't think I will ever try writing so much longhand and then type it later. It takes too long. I also have ~500 photos and movies to sort through. Insane...