These once-a-week updates just aren’t cutting it. The passing of seven days here is packed with as much excitement as a full month back home. Maybe it’s because Madrid is my first big-city home (over four million inhabitants), or maybe it’s because I’m still in the “honeymoon” stage of adaptation that we learned about in our “Culture Shock” workshop this week, but time sure does fly by.
I told you last week how excited I was to go see Picasso’s famous Guernica (highly encouraged read!) at the Reina Sofia Museum; let me just say, it lived up to all my expectations. Now as much a symbol of freedom from repression and a triumph of liberty as the Statue of Liberty herself, Guernica’s sheer size and profound message made it almost overwhelming to see. Of all the paintings and masterpieces we’ve seen so far here in Madrid, I would say that Guernica easily ranks at the top of my list.
Entrance to the Reina Sofia
The next exciting event of the week was the class trip to the Barceló Market to get a feel for what goes into making authentic Spanish food. I would say the Spanish markets are a bit of an intermediate between a supermarket and a farmer’s market. Each stall, or puesto, specializes in a certain type of product; the “frutería” is where you stock up on fruit, the “pescadería” fills you up on fish, and the “casquería” is for all the innards left over from the slaughter of cows and pigs. I would say the most disturbing thing we saw was the block of congealed pig blood being sold, which apparently isn’t an entirely uncommon product for Spanish señoras to whip up for lunch. I wasn’t that adventurous in my purchases, though, and stuck with buying a few oranges, although I have to say that they don’t quite live up to those famous Florida oranges I’m used to!
(Sketchy) Entrance to the Barceló Market
The big event of the week was our overnight excursion to the beachside Nashville-sized city of Valencia on the east coast of Spain and the town of Cuenca about halfway along the drive between Madrid and Valencia. Cuenca was our first stop and although we had plans to see the Cathedral, the hanging houses and some museums, it turned out that the whole city was pretty much shut down for the Fiesta de San Mateo, which ended up being one of the best times I’ve had so far in Spain. A main component of this city-wide festival was a bull run, which, although much more low key than its counterpart in Pamplona, was a blast. While at first we stayed on the sidelines behind the safety of wooden barriers, we soon decided to brave the bull’s horns and get out where the real excitement was going down. At one point, we got within fewer than ten feet of the bull, our hearts pumping furiously and our legs running as fast as possible. However, the scariest moment definitely had to be when Amber got pushed to the slippery, wet ground in the crowd just as the bull was charging up the alley behind her. Luckily, she got pulled up and the Red Cross station cleaned her up and bandaged up her scraped knee.
An angry bull
Amber, bandaged up
After just a few hours in Cuenca, we hit the road again for Valencia and the Mediterranean Sea. Unfortunately, of the three weeks we’ve been here, this was the only weekend it rained, which put a big damper on the trip where sunshine was the most critical! Nevertheless, we made some adjustments in plans, ate some delicious crepes (not of the pancake variety) at the Creperie Bretonne, which housed an authentic London bus. The next day, we also tried some paella in its birthplace along Playa Levante. With whole crawfish adorning each portion and calamari mixed in with the rice, it was truly a gastronomic delight. After our lunch, we decided the dark clouds weren’t going to stop us from going to the beach and we took some time to dip our feet in the Mediterranean. 
A dip in the Mediterranean
Afterwards, we got to experience La Lonja in all of its somber, gloomy glory as well as the immense and ornate Cathedral of Valencia. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time for the super-modern City of the Arts and Sciences (awesome pictures!), but there’s always next time.
And for my favorite picture this week:
The new and improved windmills of La Mancha
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