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Pocket picked...almost

I was the victim of an attempted pickpocket yesterday. It was quite exciting, except that I didn't notice any of it.

On our way from the Royal Palace to the Garden Retiro -- Madrid's public garden -- we crammed into a particularly crowded subway and as we came to one of the station stops, a woman standing in front me started shouting at another woman who was moving down the car and also called out to a security guard standing outside. She then turned and asked me in broken English if I had still I had my wallet. She didn't even bother to check if I spoke Spanish or not. It must have been obvious.

I did have my wallet. But she had watched the pickpocket make the attempt on me. What stopped her from succeeding was a pocket-sized Spanish translation book that was also in my pocket. It was slightly larger and obstructed access to my wallet. She must of grabbed it instead. What's surprising was that the pickpocket was quite cute and well dressed. That would explain why I might be an attractive target...That and the big bulge in my pocket and the look of "stupid American tourist" written all over my face.

It's good to be king

Yesterday we toured the Palacio Real -- the Royal Palace. It's huge...second only to the Louvre. The current king -- Juan Carlos I -- doesn't live there any more. He's slumming it in a smaller Chateau Place. It's good to be king.

Running of the Ninos

I would have loved to the do the Running of Bulls festival while here in Spain, but I experienced the next best thing -- the Running of the Children. While strolling through Toledo a large group of Spanish school kids suddenly appeared at the top of the street and proceeded to run enmasse toward us, screaming all the way. Half of the stampede had already passed by the time I was able to whip out my camera, step out of the way and snap the photo.

I survived...gourged only once or twice.

That which does not kill me...

I haven't blogged in a couple days because, well, we almost died.

Not literally. But death would have been a kind and welcome respite from the bout of food poisoning that Michelle and I have suffered with the past 36 hours. Death by torture like the Spanish Inquistors inflicted in the Plaza Mayor a couple blocks from our hotel would seem merciful by comparison. It was that bad.

We still haven't been able to bring ourselves to eat anything yet. And that's the most disappointing thing -- my Spanish food adventures are over. I've been lucky enough to try a wide variety of local dishes, but no more. Even a whiff of the aromas from the sidewalk cafes makes me wretch.

When we first arrived and I noticed the ubiquitous McDonalds, Wendys and KFC scattered in amongst the many tapas bars and restaurants I said to Michelle how could anyone even consider eating at Macdonalds with all this great food around. But a Big Mac is starting to sound good right now.

Holy Toledo

Thursday was a day trip to Toledo, a fortressed medieval city built atop a mountain about 70 kilometers south of Madrid. If you ever go to Spain, you must visit it. Taking the high-speed train, the trip took less than 30 minutes.

Toledo is a maze of cobblestone streets, many no bigger than a sidewalk. This street next to the bar where I'm enjoying a cervesa would be considered one of wide streets.

What surprised me most was that Toledans drive on these narrow streets. Everyone who owns a car drives a sub-subcompact, or a scooter. How they get around without killing any of the tourists I'll never know. Several times Michelle and I had to jump into a doorway's portico in order to avoid being run over. They squeeze through the tightest of archways and roads. And if the path is a little too tight, they simply take a deep breath and drive through it anyway. A few scapes and scratches to the sides of the car, like the one above, are common.

Michelle taking in the view of the plains from one of the walls. The windmills of these plains were the ones Don Quixote tilted at.

A typical Toledo "street."


But the most amazing thing about Toledo was the cathedral. It was the first European cathedral I have experienced, and it was mind-numblingly wondrous. It's one of the top 3 Gothic cathedrals in Europe. It's the most amazing man-made thing I've ever seen. The photos and words can't do justice to the architectural achievement...the details, scale, ornamentation, artwork and treasures. But when you consider that it took almost 500 years to build it, I guess it's not so implausible. Imagine a building project started around the time of the first European settlers to America just getting it's final coat of paint today. And people bitch about how long the Big Dig is taking.

Chocolate and churros

This is Michelle having one of those Meg Ryan-When Harry Met Sally-in the cafeteria moments. Except she's not faking it. At a friend's suggestion, we ended the night around 2:00 am at a cafe serving hot chocolate and churros. Churros are like fried dough, extruded through a Play-doh-like device through a star-shaped mold into a kettle of hot fat and deep fried on the spot. The hot chocolate is the consistency of liquid pudding. You dip the churros in the chocolate, take a bite, and moan blissfully.