Speedy Jackie's Travel World

Sunday morning we got up a little bit earlier than we had the day before so that we could drive the truck out to some of the little villages (pueblos) that he wanted to show me.  Took about an hour to get there and it was a beautiful drive all along the way as we climbed and snaked our way up through the Andes mountains.  We would take this same path later and go into the Amazon jungle farther north on the Pan-American highway.  The mountains were huge, beautiful and were covered in a lush patchwork of greens like nature's quilt with what seemed like every square inch a manicured farm area.  We drove by many people working the fields and they did it all by hand.  It was really quite impressive to see the amount of work they did, all by hand.  Especially when you then lifted your head up to see that virtually every square inch of land for miles in every direction were tilled and worked in this manner.  The people were dressed in their native attire with brightly colored wool wraps and layers of clothes, braided pony tails and distinctive hats.

 

The farther up we drove the more I felt my heart racing.  It was the altitude.  It was really a dramatic feeling but not too scary.  Pablo said the same thing always happens to him too.  I figured he would have been used to it from living there for 27 years before moving to Europe.  A lot of people get altitude sickness when they go to Quito, Riobamba and the Amazon in general due to the altitude.  Usually the symptoms are an accelerated heartbeat, nausea and headache.  I had a headache for a bit on Saturday and a touch on Sunday but after an aspirin I never had any other problems.

 

We stopped before getting to the first town at a little restaurant—think fancy shack with a bunch of benches and nice people serving your choice of three breakfast items.  This was the first place I encountered cuy (guinea pig).  The woman at the table across from us ordered stew with cuy.  Just looked like regular pieces of meat in there to me but I sure didn't want it.  Instead I got boiled potatoes with some yummy orange sauce and two slabs of yummy cheese on top.  Never figured out exactly what the cheese was but it was soft, mild, a touch salty and tasted fantastic.  Wasn't going to complain, love my cheese! 

 

Pablo had potatoes but then had fried pig skin instead of the cheese.  When I say pig skin, I'm not referring to some thin crispy pork rind puffy in a Doritos bag I have seen people eat state-side.  I mean take a pig, scrape/shave the hair (I am imagining that they do this since the skin looks supple, if that's a good word for it), cut the skin off in 3 to 4 inch wide strips that are about 1/2 inch thick and then fry them in oil.  They get a lovely golden color but don't get crispy.  Just looks, although I can't say from tasting it, like chewy fat.  It’s very popular there and with Pablo.  Never tried it and don’t plan on it.

 

After our breakfast stop we went to two little towns that I don't know the name of and drove around.  You really had to know where you were going because there were no signs.  The first town had their big Sunday market happening so there were a lot of little stands set up with all kinds of clothing and trinkets for sale along with practical things.  Was very interesting to drive through.  Pablo said that on the weekends all of the people from the bigger cities come out to the small towns and on the week days it is the other way around with the big city markets.  Made sense. 

 

In the second town we made it up to close to the top of the town where there was a small church that was the oldest church in Ecuador.  Not a lot to look at but it was significant to the history of the area.  When we went back to the car we noticed that there was a lot of water leaking from the front of the truck. We checked everything but didn't find a problem and it didn't overheat as we continued on.  We were very careful and monitored every sound closely though.  The truck would go into the shop tomorrow to be checked out before our big road trip into the Amazon! 

 

On the way back we stopped at a little park and took more pictures.  There was also another little church here that looked so sweet and innocent as a typical old church on the outside, but when you stepped inside there was a lovely neon display of godliness.  Seemed cheesy and over-done but the town was quite proud of it so more power to them.  We returned to Riobamba after we finished our pueblo-hopping adventure and met up with Pablo's family so we could take the weekly trip to the cemetery. 

The trip to the cemetery was very interesting.  While the city of Riobamba is fairly large but there is apparently really only one cemetery to be buried in and everyone that has any money has their family buried there.  The graves ranged from small markers, very uncommon, to multilevel tombs and then there was the enormous mausoleum.  Everything was very ornate with tons and tons of flowers.  I would have liked to have photographed the cemetery but that just seemed in poor taste.

 

Speaking of flowers, I swear that they must spend around a hundred dollars every week buying these huge bouquets of roses, carnations, lilies, and all kinds of flowers and fillers to plant around the grave sites and put in the huge urns that adorn it.  The visit was mostly a giant production of taking out the old dead ones from last week, pull a few weeds, put the new ones in, water them, make the sign of the cross and move on.  The Yaulema Torres family has two graves.  One is a big multilevel, mostly underground one where Pablo’s grandparents and father are buried and the other is a small grave nearby where Margi's baby that didn't make it years ago is buried. 

 

This process of the weekly visit, flower changing and all was an interesting activity to participate in.  The importance of family and ritual in the community is very strong.  As far as religion goes, 95% of the population of Ecuador reports themselves as Catholic.  Pablo's family is Catholic.  Catholicism to them is a little lighter than what I’ve grown up with.  Other than wearing the occasional rosary (which isn't meant to be jewelry) and making the sign of the cross and kissing their fist when leaving and entering Riobamba they don't do anything particularly Catholic.  But they are very proud to be Catholic.

 

After the cemetery, Pablo and I drove to a little shop where we got ice-cream clown cones with Superman ice cream.  Lots of fun to look at and eat, although somehow I didn't remember Superman ice cream being bubblegum flavored.  Oh well, took me back to the days when I was little and my papa used to take my brother Jeff, cousin Andrea and myself to the ice cream shop for Superman ice cream and rainbow sherbet.  A bit later we went with Margi, Santi and Stephi to another town nearby to pick up another niece, Evelyn, who was about 5.  Never figured out or met Evelyn’s parents.  But was a sister’s child because Pablo is the only boy out of five children.

 

We ate some dinner at a cousin’s or family friends’ restaurant until both girls passed out from exhaustion and then headed back to Riobamba.  They were a lot of fun at the restaurant because they tried really hard to talk to me.  But they talked really, really fast!  We practiced counting in Spanish and English (took me the whole night to get them to get up to eleven and twelve), recited lots of fruits and vegetables and a few animals.  When we got back we just hung out the rest of the day at the house and called it an early night so that we would have a full day to get the truck checked (remember that leaking problem?) and head to the Amazon jungle!!  Oh, one other note, this trip was the first time I asked about the giant blue painted hearts on the roads—some big, some small.  Turned out that is how they mark where people died.  Was shocking to see how many hearts there were in some areas.

 

Monday Pablo took the car in the moment the shop opened at 8am.  I spent the morning reading my book and watching American TV shows.  They didn't finish until after lunch so we got a later start than we’d hoped.  We packed quickly for our trip to the jungle and hit the road.  We drove along the same path as the day before to the little towns but kept going and going.  The views were amazing and I took lots of pictures.  It was amazing the way that people packed into pickup trucks and on top of foliage cleared from the road in big trucks.  No seatbelts, kids hanging out of windows. . . if you could find room on a vehicle you had a ride.

 

We stopped at The Banos Zoo that was full of beautiful birds and other tropical animals--ones that you were not likely to see very much of unless captured and held captive in this setting.  They all looked healthy though, just bored!  We stopped at a second bird sanctuary type place that was a little sadder in the presentation of the animals, ate Chinese for dinner and went into a town just outside of Banos so I could email my family that I was okay.  My cell phone did not get service anywhere so I just left it at the house.   

 

Tuesday we got up early and drove around more taking lots of pictures, eating here and there (lots of time in the car), and then we saw this sign that said "Monkeys" and had to stop.  Okay, really it said "Monos" but same thing!  We turned down a road expecting. . . and closely watching. . . to see monkeys in the trees.  The road was a bit treacherous and most cars could not have made it.  Thank god for our big truck with giant wheels.  We considered turning around but didn't.  It was the coolest "jungle"-looking road though. 

 

After a mile or so and no monkeys we were getting really disappointed until we realized that there was a place at the end of the road that was where the monkeys were.  We walked down a path and started seeing a monkey or two up in the trees.  We got so excited. . . and then there was one on the path in front of us.  As we walked down the path the guy who ran the place (really just his house in the jungle) greeted us and started telling us about the monkeys.  A few seconds later the monkeys started climbing us and getting really friendly.  It was a lot of fun!  There were 17 monkeys there including an adorable 5 month old baby in diapers.    There was also an older baby who would ride the back of a lab as if it were his mother.  Cute and funny. 

 

After the monkey excursion, one of our stops was to walk down to this amazing waterfall called Pailon del Diablo or El Diablo.  When I looked up this waterfall online afterwards it turns out that it is reported to be one of the top ten most beautiful waterfalls in the world.  And I cannot disagree!  We walked downhill for about 20 minutes on a well-groomed jungle path to a suspension bridge that connected the two sides of a giant river from a gorgeous waterfall.  The view was amazing.  On the far side of the bridge was a bar that looked over the edge and was the neatest tropical little getaway.  We ordered a few beers and watched the waterfall and then walked back over the bridge to the waterfall side. 

 

On the waterfall side there was a path to walk up and then down to get as close (and wet) as you could get to the waterfall without swimming in it.  The sound was deafening and the ground continually trembled from the force of the water.  There was a bright green and black stick bug that caught my eye.  The few other folks and Pablo didn’t believe me at first that it wasn’t just a twig. . . until I made it move.  The walk, no, the hike back up to where we started was quite the workout.  It helped we were a bit damp from the waterfall but suddenly the 90 degree weather, steep climb and few beers all took their toll.  Well worth the effort though!

 

After exploring a few more areas by truck we headed back to Riobamba so that we could have dinner with his three sisters, four nieces/nephews, mother and few other folks.  I'll save Wednesday and heading to the Esmeraldas for good beach times for later!  Oh, one other thing.  Everyone is really nice and friendly there and we were frequently picking up folks, families, bikers, etc. in one area of the jungle and dropping them off a few miles away.  Hitchhiking was very easy for them but not something I would have done myself. 

Okay for those crazy fools who have followed my travels so extensively. . . the adventure continued, or at least part of it, as I decided to go to Ecuador to visit Pablo.  He visited his family in his home town of Riobamba, Ecuador for a month when the long process to get a Visa from the US government to visit here never seemed to go anywhere.  As Americans, we can go anywhere we want for the most part, but if you are from another country it is a really hard and long process. 

 

After finding out he wouldn’t be able to come to Seattle for at least another six months, he decided to take his annual trip to see his family and I decided to go there instead.   He was going to give up that trip to come see me instead if the Visa thing had worked out.  Turned out that for essentially $300 and some airline miles I could make the 12 day trip.  $300 for a trip to Ecuador?  When was I going to ever go down there?  And the perspective of being there living locally. . . couldn’t pass up the chance.  Plus I wanted to see him again. 

 

Being the proud gentleman that he is and the fact that he has a few houses down there I knew Iwouldn't have to pay for pretty much anything. . . so how could I not go!!  Don't think terribly of me please!  Just as in Madrid, I TRIED to pay for things all of the time and did whenever I got the chance.  But that wasn’t cool for him and let me fill you in that Ecuador is a third-world country.  That means things are pretty darn cheap down there so that didn't add up to a lot of dough. 

 

So here's the overview of the trip and then I'll dive into some details!  Flew out of Seattle at 6:10pm on Thursday November 15th and got to Los Angeles just after 9pm.  Killed a few hours and made some calls while waiting for my almost 7 hour flight at 1am from LA to Panama City, Panama where I had a one hour layover before hopping on my final 3 hour flight to Quito Ecuador.  I landed in Quito at 1:40pm and saw Pablo looking down at me with a big smile from the floor above as I made my way to the customs section of the airport. 

I was really relieved because there was this tiny little part of me that was afraid I wouldn't recognize him right away.  Thankfully that wasn’t a problem.  He looked exactly the same and there weren’t as many people as I had imagined there could be.  Whew.  After I finished with the customs agent, I got my luggage and walked out to the area where everyone meets there visitors and there he was standing front and center greeting me with the biggest hug.  It was great to see him.  When we got to his car he opened the trunk and revealed a lovely flower arrangement with roses and a balloon.   

 

We headed out from Quito, the capital, to Riobamba, where he is from.  The trip takes 2.5 to 4 hours depending on what route you take and traffic.  We hit the traffic part so we stopped along the way for dinner at an Italian restaurant his friend owned and eventually made it to his house a bit after dark.  Dinner was some tasty pizza, not quite the traditional Ecuadorian cuisine but that was fine with me after 20 hours of travel and airplane food. 

 

Riobamba is one of the bigger cities in Ecuador, but is a far cry from the central hub that Quito is.  As we got to Pablo’s house he parked on the side of the street he pointed to a closed up restaurant with big metal doors and said that's my house up there.  I did look up and see windows but thought it really strange when he opened the door to the restaurant for us to go in.  It was dark inside because it was closed.  The restaurant wasn't very big, like a small cafeteria style diner and to the left when you walked in was a stairway that led to more seating upstairs. 

 

Under the stairs Pablo moved aside a table and bench seat to reveal a small door that we walked through to go into the adjoining garage.  It was really weird and I asked him if this was breaking and entering because that's what it felt like.  He laughed and said that no it was just the way they went in when the restaurant was closed.  We walked up a set of stairs in the garage and that took us to the floors above the restaurant where his family lived.  It was truly a different living experience for me. 

 

When you walked in the "house" after the entry way to the right was the living and dining rooms (and presumably a closet of some sort but I didn't really ever check it out) and to the left were the kitchen/laundry combo room we never used, bathroom and then Pablo's room on the left side of the hall and on the other side of the hall his sister, Margi, her daughter Stephi's and Santi had rooms.  Stephi was 4 and Santi 21.  Outside if you went up a few more steps and turned or did a dance or something were the room/apartments to other family members including his sister Susanna, his mom, another sister, her husband and their daugher, Evelyn. 

 

There might have been more people/family living there but it was a lot to keep track of and I kept meeting people so fast I couldn't quite keep up.  Pablo's room was definitely the biggest (since he owned the whole place, according to him) and had a tv, bed, couch and chairs.  He said his whole family rented from him in his two homes and used his cars and shared the costs for them.  Not his whole family of course, as there were like 64 family members and only he and his cousin in Berlin live outside of Riobamba.  Thank goodness I didn't meet all of them. . . only about 23 or so. 

 

Saturday morning we slept in a bit which was a good thing since I'd been tired from all of that airport/airplane time.  The time difference was only three hours.  Sounds stupid that sitting and doing nothing is tiring but it is.  For breakfast we went downstairs to the restaurant and I met his mom and sister Susanna with at least a nod and a smile.  Nothing says breakfast and good morning like being greeted by large roasted pig heads out on display.  His mom made us plentiful helpings of roast pig, hominy, potatoes with some type of tasty orangish-creamy-ish sauce and a side of salad with pickled vegetables. 

 

Then she put out a plate of pig heart, liver and intestines.  I was a trooper and tried all three even though Pablo insisted I didn't have to.  They didn't taste like much and were very chewy and rubbery.  Nothing I feel the need to try again.  My only insistence was that I was not going to eat cuy at all (guinea pig for you English speakers).  I'd had two as pets growing up and did not feel the need to get to know them in any other fashion let alone know what they tasted like.

 

After breakfast we wandered around the neighborhood, pretty much the center of Riobamba.  They lived in the perfect location there.  We went to the nearby train station and the local market festival that was going on there then to another outside Saturday market where there were lots of local blankets, clothes, dolls and other handicrafts for sale.  I saw the building that he went to school at and other little landmarks around.  Crazy me I didn't take any pictures, camera at the house, because I figured I'd have plenty more opportunities.  That didn't end up happening until the last morning but you'll have to wait to the end to hear about that. 

 

We walked to a place that was sort of a mall but I would compare it more to Pike Place Market on the lower levels with all kinds of produce and a cheap knock-off booth row of all kinds of clothing and stuff upstairs.  Fake designer shoes, jeans, clothes, watches, jewelry and other stuff I just didn't have a need for.  Interesting to look at though.  After our midday adventure we went back to the house to meet up with Margi, Stephi and Santi for lunch at a nearby restaurant.  I quickly learned that they never seem to eat at home unless it is their own restaurant food which was the same every day.  It was a nice lunch and we had some conversation with a bit of effort but it was fun. 

 

After lunch we took a cab to see if Pablo's truck was ready for a little road trip since he was having oil changed, new brakes and all of that tune up stuff done to it.  It wasn't ready so we hung out for awhile until Pablo could go back and pick it up at the end of the day and then we made it out to a dinner at around 9:30pm with about ten family and friends. 

 

I talked to Margi during the dinner about the news footage that was on TV covering a political bombing in Riobamba about 4 years ago.  It was really interesting learning about the political instability and the aftermath of all of the women that went into labor unexpectedly and early during the bombing.  Lots of problems and post-traumatic stress issues for the moms and problems with the babies including learning disabilities.  Stephi happened to be born early during that period but it wasn't directly related to the bombings but made getting medical attention a challenge. 

 

Dinner was interesting because they brought everything out as it was ready so some of us were waiting quite awhile. . . then after awhile it was just me waiting and waiting and waiting.  Then they finally figured out the waitress didn't put my order in.  Was kind of funny, definitely funny to the rest of them.  I was just glad I wasn't too terribly hungry.  My dinner was churrasco which was thin-cut beef cooked in oil with a fried egg on top, cooked in oil, served with french fries, cooked in oil.  I swear they may have dribbled extra oil on top just to make sure it was all shiny.  Everything there, as in many of the places in Europe, is fried and served with french fries.  After a few days this really did a number on my digestive system!  Unfortunately while it all slid down my throat with greasy ease, it did not continue as smoothly through the rest of the system but no more details for you!!

 

After dinner we decided to go out and try to take on the town to find a little dancing or nightlife.  We drove around, "cruised the strip" like in the 50's if you will, and honked and got honked at by tons of people that Pablo knew.  Was almost creepy that Pablo seemed to know half of the town.  Almost felt like we were local celebrities.  Everybody knows Pablo's truck (kind of like my little red, striped rocket ship!).  We found a little bar that was playing a good and interesting mix of music, current stuff, not salsa sadly for me, and had some beers and ran into a friend of his and his girlfriend.  We stayed for a few hours, danced a few songs and then called it a night.  There weren't any places that were overly busy even for a Saturday. 

 

I'll save Sunday's activities for the next segment.  But if you are wondering about the weather it was pretty much partly cloudy and in the low to mid-sixties so it was very nice.  Light coat at night and short sleeves and sunglasses during the day. Riobamba is known as the chilly city because it is much colder than it’s neighboring cities do to the elevation.  We’d be in the upper 80’s and 90’s as soon as we went into the Amazon jungle and the beaches. 

So here I am heading out of my hostel on Monday morning about to do something drastic.  Not like it is that crazy but c'mon, for me it was a bit considering how planned my trip was and that I am heading back to a city mostly to spend more time, relaxed time, with a great guy I met.  I had Pablo's phone number of course but had decided to really daring and surprising (you have to admit that it is a really romantic thing to do too) by going back without him knowing I was coming.  I got all cheesy and bought a ticket that would put me back in the Museo de Jamon at the same time as when I met him exactly one week later.  Heck, I even wore almost the exact same outfit for total dejavu.  Of course I was really counting on his work schedule being the same and other little details like he was really a genuine good guy and hadn't just moved on to some other tourist and was willing to let me stay with him per his offer.  In some ways that was a lot to gamble on, in others, not really!  I knew it really wasn't a risky gamble.

 

My train (the fancy super fast AVE train again) delivered me to the Madrid train station at 3pm.  I was really nervous/excited the whole ride and tried to watch some stupid movie they were showing but the connection for my earpiece was broken so unless I pushed the plug in hard and held it there was no point.  So instead I tried to distract myself by trying to memorize every word in my Spanish phrase book that I could to help with upcoming conversations.  I got to the train station, checked my bags into the storage area there and then took the underground metro to the Puerto del Sol station and headed towards Pablo's work.  By the time I surfaced from the metro station I was starting to feel a little stupid and kept going through all of the what-if's and whatnot.  But heck, you only live once, I had such a blast with him I wanted to see him again and best case it would be a fantastic surprise for him, worst case a disappointment for me and I'd have to find a hostel and still take some time to relax. 

 

His work was only 5 blocks from the station so I headed straight for it so I wouldn't have to think too much about changing my mind.  Not that it was was going to happen at this point.  I was careful when I approached the building because it is on a corner and the two sides on the corner are all glass and pretty easy to see in and out of.  Was going for the element of surprise here.  I was approaching the glass corner so tried to be discreet about looking in.  I walked past on the main street and saw that there was maybe one customer in there and two employees visible. . . neither were Pablo.  That sucked and alarmed me a bit.  But heck, that wasn't a much different crowd from a week ago.  Not wanting to look obvious and walk back by, I just continued up the block and circled it from the backside.  Then I walked by the other window.  At first I didn't see him but then he walked out from the kitchen to the front and I knew it was time to make my move.  

 

So anyway, the rest of my time in Madrid was another 4 fun-filled days and I headed to Portugal.  Oh, you wanted a little more?  Okay, just a bit.  I walked in the front door and one of the other guys working recognized me and I gave him a little "shh" signal.  I headed straight to Pablo and ordered a beer like I would any other day as if it were nothing.  He reached for a glass and then did a total double-take when he saw who it was.  It was perfect.  He could not believe I was back and kept stammering with an ear to ear grin.  I quickly asked, as cool and casually as I could, if he knew of any places I could stay now that I was back in town.  He said his place of course as if there were ANY other options!  It was hilarious.  For the rest of my almost hour there he was a total nervous, happy wreck.  I loved it!  He went from being the suave, cool guy the week before to a nervous school-girl kind of guy.  He even messed up the only two other customer's orders and they ordered a simple sandwich and a beer.  It was so cute.  He wrote down his address for me, gave me his key with instructions as to what key worked where and I eventually headed back to the train station.  I grabbed my stuff from the station, took a cab to his apartment and hung out there for a bit.  Eventually I took the metro to go back to the center, grabbed a bite, made some calls to family, chatted with Tiffany (about boys of course) online and met him just before he got off of work.

 

Apparently my re-appearance was all the talk at his work and I felt like everyone was staring.  They were all really excited for him that this car racing chick from Seattle that he had had such an amazing time with, and had apparently been very sad about when she left, came back just for him.  Everyone waited on me hand and foot, kept my glass full, gave me lots of free samples and plenty of winks and smiles.  David of course took the best care of me.  We were famous.  As soon as he could get off we headed out to one of our usual haunts to catch up.  I didn't want to dance that night, just talk and catch up.  It was a perfect night and my plan couldn't have worked out better!

 

Turned out his schedule was the same as the week before, which is what I had counted on, so he only had to work from 9a-2p the next day, had all of Wed off and sadly worked from 2p-midnight on my last night, Thursday.  My counting on his schedule being the same is also a part of what made going back there at this point a good move.  I slept in on Tuesday when he went to work and then we met for lunch and wandered around the local parks holding hands, riding in a little rowboat, chatting for hours on end and stuff like that.  During my second visit during the time when he was working I spent relaxing at his apartment, at internet cafes or shopping in the neighborhoods and when he was off we went out in the late mornings and evenings--it was perfect!  We did go salsa dancing again at the Havana Club and towards the end I decided I was going to need to take some classes to be a better dance partner when I got back to Seattle.  Oh on my last afternoon in the Museo de Jamon it was really funny, and a tad embarrassing, because they named a dish "una Seattle" after me and would call out that instead of the real name to the guys in the deli side to make.  I never knew which sandwich it was but I'm sure it had cheese in it.  All of the guys (about 12 at this point) thought it was hilarious and would call it out as serious as possible and crack up Pablo. 

 

One of the days I bought my ticket to fly from Madrid to Lisbon, Portugal.  I got a good deal on the ticket and ended up ahead of my budget with the change in plans even with this unexpected flight.  My flight left at like 7am on Friday morning.  We were used to being out most of the night anyways so we stayed up all night and then he accompanied me to the airport to wait with me.  He was so sweet and it was a nice way to say goodbye.  I was so tired on the plane it was crazy--crashed hard in an uncomfortable chair at the airport gate since the plane ended up being over an hour late and then crashed on the plane.  Wouldn't have done a darn thing differently!  When we parted he said that he really wanted to come visit me in Seattle and would like it if I would visit Ecuador with him perhaps the next summer.  I told him I'd call him when I got home in a week and a half or two and we would talk and see what happened. . .

So by know you've read the nightmare that was my Saturday night.  Pure bloody, vicious insanity I tell you!  I am still amazed I made it out without some crazy disease or something.  I was covered in bites though.  30 or 40 of them and when I first woke up and saw them I was dreading the itching that would soon follow.  Thank god that the itching at its worst wasn't too bad.  The first thing I did Sunday morning was go downstairs and write my blog at the hostel computer about the night and inquire where the best place to get some bug spray was.  El Cortez Ingles would be the obvious choice but there was nothing open on Sunday.  When I say nothing. . . I mean NOTHING.  It was crazy.  I ate dinner at Burger King because it was the only restaurant open (and it was cool to order a beer with your "meal"!).  This super nice guy from New York named Fernando was in the lobby area when I was sharing my nightmarish story and asking about the bug spray and he offered to pick me up some on his trip to some far away open store.  I really didn't believe he would find any and was thrilled to death when he stopped by a bit later with a magical bottle of anti-bug juice.  Thanks again Fernando!!

 

I spent the day on Sunday walking down the waterfront to the Plaza Espana which was very pretty.  Then I wandered my way back up to my starting point, weaving my way in and out of local parks, buildings, universities and whatever I ran across.  I ate lunch at Starbucks because Burger King and Starbucks were my only open options this Sunday.  Later when I got back to the hostel I ran into Fernando again and we started talking about travel plans and he had just gotten a ticket to the Alhambra.  We'd talked about it a little earlier and he knew that I had had a hard time getting one.  Somehow he magically got a ticket by clicking the buy button at the exact moment someone cancelled theirs.  It was crazy good luck on his part.  He was so nice and helped me try to get a ticket.  We spent a bit of time online trying to see if the same magic would happen for me but it never did.  I talked to Fernando a bit about my temptation to forgo Rhonda and Granada since I couldn't get tickets and instead surprise Pablo in Madrid.  I looked up train and plane tickets (thanks again to Fernando for turning me onto kayak.com--best site for plane tickets ever!) and came up with a very doable plan B. 

 

I had a lot of fun talking with him and we decided to head over to the other side of the river bank to have a drink and hang out, then went over to Rubec's for tapas.  We parted ways for me to go to the bull fight and he went to do other stuff.  But we made plans to meet up at the hostel later that night to go try and take on some of the Sevilla nightlife.  I'm honestly thinking that I did not go to Sevilla during it's most social season but I still had a good time.  I knew that even if Sunday wasn't a crazy night for going out at least the two of us would have fun.  Now let me tell you about the bullfight. 

 

I have always wanted to see a traditional bullfight to see what happens.  Depending on the country you are in or part of the country bullfights range from a bunch of dressed up guys just clowning around with the bulls but nobody really gets hurt to bulls getting speared and killed after to the fight away from the eyes of the audience or right in front of the audience.  This bullfight I was attending was considered the most traditional sort with three bullfighters, matadors if you will, each fighting two bulls in a three-round fight.  Three matadors, six bulls, battle to the death.  I'll just give you a flavor of what happens because it is rather gory and I don't want anyone to get upset or grossed out.  What struck me the most in the entire process was that while the bullfighters are some of the most highly statured people in the community, what takes place and the utter unfairness of it for the bull (sorry but he pretty much has a snowballs chance in hell of doing anything but dying) makes it seem like something I wouldn't be too proud of.  Let me tell you what I mean with the process of the fights.

 

So the day was beautiful and sunny and I didn't mind my seat in the sun.  It did get a little warmer than I would like but not a big deal and it was around 4 in the afternoon so the hottest part had passed.  I was really nervous to bring my camera in because they said on the ticket that they were not allowed and would be confiscated but I had it hidden in a pocket that wouldn't be searched.  There were no searches and I think every third person was taking pictures or video so I did take a few video clips and photos.  The pomp and circumstance of the event started with the three bullfighters, I'll remind you these were the amateurs, riding in full regalia on horses followed by back up fighters (I think they were pro's) and assistants on foot all prancing around the large ring in the arena that seated up to 15,000 people.  It was a big place and it was probably 1/3 full of spectators.  There was no announcing or anything to tell you what was going to happen or who was who but after 2 minutes of prancing and the owners of the ring doing something, everyone cleared the ring and the first match began. 

 

As I said, there are a series of three stages to the fight.  In the first stage the bullfighter rides a horse that is decked out in full leather protective gear and hhe uses two spears for this round.  He has six or seven assistants who all run around the ring waving capes--colors don't matter, the bulls only track motion.  As soon as they are all in the ring they release a bull.  The bulls in this event were not quite as large as the one's the pro's fight and I want to say these were like 450 kilo where the big ones are like 600.  I didn't have that in my notes, going from memory so if I'm far off don't freak out!  The bulls are quite big no matter what.  A lot of people feel that bullfighting is a positive thing because if it wasn't for the sport this particular breed of bull would be extinct.  The breed is naturally very aggressive when provoked and is known for their die-hard fighting ability.  If it wasn't for this sport, no one would keep them around.  This isn't a big selling point for me but it is a big deal to a lot of locals.  So when they release the bull the assistants run around trying to get the bull's attention to get him riled up and charging as they cowardly run behind these big protective walls while the bull rams his head into it trying to figure out where the guy went. 

 

The bull clearly looks confused with the entire process.  It is only his instinct that drives him to charge at this waving motion in front of him.  The assistants do this for 3 or 4 minutes until the bull is panting and frankly really confused.  Once the bull is in this state, the fancily-clad bullfighter directs his horse to get in close proximity of the bull.  Initially the bull isn't really interested.  The horse on the other hand is in a terrible predicament and I thought this was the worst part of the entire thing.  While the horses are in this protective wear that is like a giant leather drape that goes down to his knees and includes a headdress, he is in a very alarming situation because the headdress covers his eyes.  This poor horse has been in other bull fights and knows what is going to happen but can't see to do anything about it.  This is the only way the bullfighter could get him to go that close and not move when a bull comes charging at him.  How awful for the horse!  I felt terrible for them and it almost broke my heart to watch.  And of course the very first fight was the most dramatic of all.  Just so you know, it wasn't until the late 60's that the horses ever wore armor.  Most horses only lived to participate in a few fights before dying in battle or from complications.  Somehow that is supposed to make me feel better.

 

The bullfighter maneuvers the obedient horse who has no other choice but to follow instructions close to the bull.  The assistants antagonize the bull so that he moves in the right direction.  Then while they are still distracting him the bullfighter approaches the bull and spears him between the shoulder blades in a dramatic and very effective manner while the bull reacts and charges at the horse with the rider on it.  In this first round with the first bullfighter he delivered the first spear without a problem.  The poor horse took quite the blow with the bulls charge and you could hear and almost feel it even though it was on the far side of the ring from where I was sitting ($ seats = sit where action is).  From this far vantage point I could see blood clearly pouring down the bulls sides.  So now he is hurting and much more upset.  The assistants give the bullfighter another long spear and they repeat the process.  With this first matador he ran into a problem with the second spear.  He delivered it okay but didn't let go soon enough and as soon as the bull started charging and attacking you could tell he wasn't expecting the full reaction the bull gave.  Ahh, the amateur.  The bull charged a few times in quick succession and then lifted the horse with the fighter on him up in the air and flipped them.  The horse definitely got hurt and was freaking out because now he was on the ground, blindfolded and getting attacked.  Luckily he got up quickly and the bull had focused his attention on the fighter who was dazed and then got flipped a few times by the bull before the assistants could distract it and medics rush the bloody, unconscious fighter away.  It was a very dramatic sight and the sounds of the audience just intensified the experience.

 

Now you might think that this kind of thing happens a lot.  I would have too but from the tour the day before it was explained that this type of accident rarely happens.  For example in all of European bullfights there are maybe 5 injuries a year.  And there are a lot of fights--Sevilla has like 160 a year just in their city.  The last 2 deaths from fights were in 1962 and 1992 (I remembered and had put that in my notes!).  Somehow at the end of the event they let us know that the guy was still alive but he was a bloody, unconscious mess when they carried him out of the ring on a stretcher.  One of the other bullfighters came in to finish the other two rounds.  So round one is the two big spears delivered to the bull's shoulder blades on horseback while assistants work to tire the bull out.  The next round is where it just starts seeming really cruel and stupid.  With the exception of the first fighter's incident, the horse round is probably the safest for the fighter.  He barely even gets close, it is the horse that takes the brunt of it.  In the second round the assistants continue to tire the bull and after two significant spearings he is bleeding a lot and panting heavily.  He is confused, hurting and you just feel sorry for him.

 

The assistants do more work than any of the fighters and I felt like they put more of themselves on the line in the process, at least on the human side of the battle.  The bullfighter now appears on foot carrying two four foot long "bocadillos" which are short spears that have many barbed tips on them.  In this round the fighter puts three sets of spears into the already weakened shoulder blades and they stick in.  The barbs on them work deeper into the poor bull the more he fights.  Doesn't really seem fair or heroic at this point does it?  The bull fighter does get a lot riskier getting that close and you do see some close calls with the horns of the bull but he is getting so weak and tired that it isn't hard for them to find an opening and take it.  After all 6 bocadillos are in, there is an appetizer named after these spears fyi, the bull is covered in blood and exhausted.  A few of the bulls barely even remained standing for the last round, one broke a leg early in this second round and another one just fell over.  Very sad to watch the bulls at this point because their instinct is still making them try to fight but they just don't have the strength to do it and I swear from the far side I was watching that I could see the helplessness and sadness in their eyes knowing they weren't going to get out of this alive.

 

Round three.  This is supposed to be the most dramatic but it really seemed more like mercy killing, with the exception that the mercy should have been shown to the animal long before.  In this round the fighter is on foot again, puffs up his chest and prances as authoritatively around the bull as he can.  He knows the bull doesn't even have the energy to charge and he walks around it like he should get all of the credit for this conquest.  Just doesn't seem like a conquest.  When he is done fluffing his feathers for the crowd, or some random girl he probably has in the audience, he takes a sword and spears the bull in the heart to kill it.  It is truly a relief at this point.  Then the fighter cuts off ears and/or the tail.  He need two of the three trophies from the fight to be successful--ears and the tail are each worth a trophy point.  Doesn't seem like a big accomplishment or challenge to take it from a dead animal.  The moment that is done horses come out and they rope the bull to the back of the procession, run the body around the ring to show it off and cart it to the back.

 

If you are wondering what they do with the dead bulls, I'll tell you.  Part of the meat goes to the owner, part to the bullfighter (along with $ prizes for both) and then the rest goes to the owners of the stadium who sell it to local restaurants who serve the meat up in tapas later that night.  It is supposed to be a big honor to eat the meat of a fallen bull.  I didn't have any myself.  So those are the rounds--two spears on horseback, six short devastating spears on foot and the final sword finish to a bull that can barely do anything but still stand if they are doing good.  How charming.  This repeats for 6 bulls as each matador gets to kill two bulls to try and earn his trophies.  There was a strange intermission where they let a really big bull out in the ring and assistants got him a little riled up.  Then they released like 15 cows into the ring and all of a sudden it was like a calm pasture with cows.  The bull calmed down, got really confused but wasn't going to attack the cows or anything.  Then after a minute they lead the cows out, spear the bull twice and then lead him off out of the ring.  We never knew what happened to him but with those injuries I doubt he would have made it long.

 

So, my take on bullfighting?  Really glad I went because it was interesting to watch.  The event was gorier than I was expecting to a point and I'm glad I wasn't sitting any closer, but I just thought it was sad.  I wasn't impressed by the esteemed fighters because I didn't feel like they did a lot of work and the bull was more victimized.  If anything bothered me the most it was the poor blindfolded horses.  I couldn't imagine being one of those horses knowing every time I'm suited up I'm going to get painfully charged from a direction I can't predict and by an assailant I cannot see.  I really hated that part.  Don't think I would go to a fight again but I am really glad I went.  I might have gone into a little more detail than I planned but now you really know what it was like to be there.  Now onto the rest of my night!

 

After the bullfight I went to the Burger King for a fancy dinner with a beer as my drink choice with the meal deal.  Felt crazy to drink beer out of a BK cup!  I met Fernando after dinner at the hostel and he had tried while online to get me an Alhambra ticket while I was at the fight.  Isn't he nice???  We would have had fun going together.  No luck there but while I was sad I was going to miss it, it also made my decision to go back to Madrid really easy!  I gave Fernando my hostel info and reservation in Granada and bought my train ticket back to Madrid for the next day.  I was so excited it was funny.  Part for getting to go back and see Pablo, part for just randomly changing my so thoroughly planned out trip and part for knowing I was really going to have some settled, down time that I really needed.  We got dressed up to go out to Boss, a well-known club there, and had one heck of a time hailing a cab.  We got creative, adventurous, looked around and finally found success with a cab.  The driver was a sweet older gentleman who was celebrating his 37th wedding anniversary with his wife the next day.  He gave us all kinds of marriage advice.  Didn't take notes though.  The cabbie drove us to where the club was and dropped us off but it turned out to be closed.  Not the right time of year??  We didn't know but wandered down the street to where a bunch of people were getting rowdy in an Irish Pub called Betis 54. 

 

The pub was lively, we had a good time, enjoyed some cheap beers, some amazing grape/berry vodka something that tasted like melted grape popsicle and then Fernando tried his first swig of Absynth.  Eventually we met Martin from Latvia who was a suave James Dean type character who'd moved to London and he introduced us to some of his other friends there.  We had a lot of fun hanging with Martin and then Jeff and Ashley who were from New York just like Fernando.  Those two were drunk but in a fun, amusing way!  Oh, a little about Fernando, he is a 28 year old sweetie with a great sense of humor (yes ladies, can't believe he is still available on the market last I heard) who does social work with autistic children.  His Spanish speaking skills came in handy as he grew up in El Salvador until turning 17 and moving state-side.  I think we made it back to the hostel around 3am, I hosed down THOROUGHLY with bug spray (although I'm sure they needed a few more days before feeding again!) and went to sleep.  Monday I woke up with only 2 new bites.  I packed and got ready to go back to Madrid to suprise Pablo and hope to god he was as great as I thought he was.  If not, I was going to need to find a place to stay!!  But you'll have to read the next installment to find out how that went. . . .