Rafa and Jorge |
One downside to Madrid life is the fear of being pickpocketed - and as you all know, I have been emotionally and psychologically scarred since my mugging on the booze cruise in Cambodia. Madrid's pickpockets are notorious for preying on tourists on the metro and in crowded areas. However, I have developed a threefold strategy to avoid being targeted. Firstly, I try and look Spanish. I do this by putting my hair up in a bun and embracing the stubble (hard to imagine, I know). Secondly, I try and look like I'm tough, so I bought a Men's Health magazine in español which I pretend to read on the metro. I make sure the cover with the naked werewolf from True Blood faces out so people will think I'm tough by association. Thirdly, when I'm going out I wear really tight jeans where even I have trouble getting my wallet out of my pocket. Ain't nobody getting into my pants.
On the subject of pants, I went on a pub crawl on Friday night and things got a bit cray. On the first hour of the crawl, there was unlimited sangria, so naturally the rest of the night is fuzzy. I was happy for the night to remain a mystery, unfortunately a photo has surfaced of me mooning the camera. I mean, it's not a bad enough photo to get me fired from the Cronulla Sharks, but still. I usually don't even like taking my shirt off at the beach but here's me with my ass hanging out on the streets of Madrid. Spain has changed me.
Here's the censored / more offensive version |
Of course, I'm not here to party - I'm here to learn. I can hear your scoffs from here, but I've actually been taking four hours of Spanish lessons a day. The first morning of class was a bit stressful as I was forced to sit a Spanish test to determine my level. I had to answer 80 multiple choice questions and sit an oral exam even though the only two words I knew were 'amigo' and 'paella.' In the immortal words of Bridget Jones, "oh bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger." So I answered the 80 questions to the best of my ability, and I think I did alright - everyone knows the correct answer is usually C, anyway. But when I got to my oral exam, the teacher spoke some rapid-fire Spanish, saw the fear in my eyes, consequently drew a big red X over my test and classified me as a beginner. Um, yeah, I could've told you that.
I'm slowly learning the language and I now understand things like colours, numbers and household furniture. However, I'm finding it really hard to pronounce certain words properly and not sound so Strayan all the time. Whenever I try to roll my R's I end up sounding like a defective lawnmower running over a possum. I just can't do it. It has also been brought to my attention that the squiggly little line above an ñ actually makes a whole lot of difference. Apparently, if you pronounce an ñ the same as you would a normal n, it can radically change the sentence. For example, "how old are you?" can be misheard as "how many anuses do you have?" It feels a bit like this language is setting me up for acute social embarasment. Luckily, my Spanish family are there to steer me away from such faux pas.
In my time away from class, I've been able to do a a bit of sightseeing. Today I took a trip to Toledo, a UNESCO World Heritage site 70km south of Madrid. Toledo is a really pretty, old town with lots of ornate churches, synagogues and mosques. My only complaint is that the town consists of an intricate network of narrow cobblestone streets, but these really big cars chug through it anyway and cramp it's style. As well as causing congestion, the cars look really stupid, like Austin Powers doing that three-point-turn in Dr Evil's lair.
Bloody Toledo Drivers |
The Top of Toledo |