Málaga, Spain to Madrid, Spain
This morning, we packed up all our stuff and taxi’d to the train station to head to Madrid. I bought my own ticket (technically, I put it on my Eurail pass) so I was in first class. They brought by little glasses and a bottle of some sort of alcohol and asked me if I wanted any. First class = free, so I said sure, why not. It looked a little like bubble-less champagne. I took a healthy swig and almost died. (Clearly: not champagne.) That’s the last time I sample unknown alcoholic beverages on trains. I think it was straight alcohol, with a touch of artificial coloring just to throw tourists off track.
I had another little adventure when trying to go to the WC (WC = Water Closet = bathroom). I tried to swing open the door, but it was apparently a non-swinging door. I tried to pull it open and it didn’t budge. I tried to push it open more forcefully and nearly smacked into it. Finally (much to the amusement of the passengers watching this spectacle) I tilted the handle diagonally and the door magically slid open all by itself. (And closes automatically, too, so don’t stand there too long wondering at the marvels of technology.)
I also got to watch Shark’s Tale (in Spanish) on the train. It was a cute movie, but since it was dubbed, much of its humor got lost in translation. For example, the “rastafari” accents and the “italian mafia” accents just don’t have the same effect when spoken in Spanish.
So, we get to Madrid and taxi to the dorm, where a few more of Forspro’s truth-stretching shenanigans come to light. (If you’ll remember, the first part of the trip was allegedly in Málaga, but was actually an hour away.) The dorm isn’t actually *on* the University, but it is on the same street. And it’s actually in a “colegio”, which may *look* like “college” but is actually the Spanish word for high school. (The students are gone for the summer, which is how Forspro could rent out the rooms.) The school, however, is run by nuns. That’s right, instead of a university campus, my summer courses are actually being held in convent/housing for girls. (All of this might have been good to know ahead of time. There were several people who said they felt especially uncomfortable, since their religion – Jewish, etc – did not jibe with the Catholic surroundings.)
It turned out to be OK, but at first was a bit of a surprise. Especially since the rooms Kristin and I were first given were extra sketchy. They were old, to say the least. My tiles were cracked, and there were no toilets in the bathroom. (A shower, though.) The rest of the Málaga girls were on a different floor, and each of their rooms came with toilets and Internet hookup. I about died. After a bit of arm twisting, we were able to switch rooms and I hear we were lucky – other people later tried to switch and were not allowed.
Eating hours were posted: Breakfast from 8-9, Lunch from 1:30-2:45, and Supper from 8:30-9:45. The washers and dryer (that’s right, 2 washers and 1 dryer for the whole dorm. And each one is 1.80E per use.) were right next to the pool, which, humorously enough, also closed for siesta from 3-6 every day. (???)
We put our stuff away in our rooms and headed to El Corte Ingles, where I made an excellent purchase: an oscillating fan for 20E. (Oh yeah – the rooms and classrooms have no a/c.)
If it sounds like I’m bitching.. well, I probably am, but I got used to it, and it really wasn’t all bad. I especially liked having my own room (having never previously had college roomates), and the Internet hookups were truly a stroke of good luck.
