Lost on Lunes and Murder on Mayor

We made the mistake of arriving in Madrid on a Sunday morning. Her and I had been pretty cordial through Barcelona. Hell we even had fun at times. However, I was tired. I was exhausted carrying all of that stuff from point A to point B. I had bought a lot of random stuff in Barcelona, we had food to travel with and both of us found ourselves carrying a ton of dirty clothes. After spending the afternoon briefly strolling and spotting the theater I really wanted to see "The Great Gatsby" since we'd already missed it in two other countries. She asked that we skip it so our first night was more about getting some grocery and staying in for the night. We started the laundry which would have to be air dried as Europeans do. Everything about the laundry was strategic since she brought lace everything. I spent the night struggling to hang my practical items while she bullied me out of space for her one size fit all thongs. 

The next day we were supposed to visit a district she'd been eyeing. So we set off on her adventure first getting a glimpse of the Palacio Real de Madrid. There I realized I'd forgotten my DSLR but did bring a much needed bottle of water. We spent a great of time outdoing each other with selfies and Instagrams. We then walked a lengthy distance around the imperial buildings and gardens viewing mazes, statues and fountains. During our walk I got a glimpse into bird feeding. Some old lady opened her kitchen window to toss out a foreign slop just inches in front our next step. She later explained it was an innocent chuck of day old bread and water for the hungry pigeons. We then found ourselves clear on the other side of town well out of the suburbs and into metropolis. We walked through a flea market, down a busy street and up to a wide park with views of all of Madrid. Then suddenly we stopped because she of all people had blisters on her feet. I provided a few bandaids and we then kept moving on to nowhere. 

After about two hours of walking and hoping she knew were she was going I complained. I seriously gave it a lot of time. I hadn't eaten. I was now running low on my warm water. I was also irritated because she knew better after Paris. I was so parched and being depleted by constant elevation changes I'd began to cough. We quickly found a small bodega and thankfully they had cold Aquarius - a strange Gatorade/Kool-Aid beverage. We then stumbled into the district she wanted us to go to. It appeared to be a ghost town and all businesses were clearly on siesta. Resturants were bringing in tables and chairs and there were no cars driving on the streets. I asked her was this what we had traveled by foot all these hours for. She had zero explanation. Then it occurred to me it was Monday - Europe's officially fuck it day. We had ventured out to a city that was pretty much shut. She then made light of it attempting to take photos and point out architecture. I went along with it trying to take pictures of street art and boarded night clubs.

We finally decided to walk back to the house and we did walk all the way back. That stroll was grueling because it was hot and all the restaurants we passed were questionable. I just didn't want to take any more chances with tapas. She wanted to wait until we got all the way back home to eat. She'd created some sort of strange diet consisting of bread, yogurt and eggs. Frankly, I was not eating eggs after a day like that. I told myself that I saw a bakery offering savories like empanadas. However, we'd walked in circles trying to find it. She didn't believe that I saw the place as if it were an oasis for a fatty like me. Then suddenly it appeared and I ordered one with chicken and another with chorizo. She then tried to be snotty and demand all sorts of vegetarian options when we were just across from the Museo of Jamon. I recall having a meltdown of sorts - I'd just wanted some rice & beans. I wanted a fulfilling meal cause I hadn't had a single one since France. Once back at the flat my empanadas turned out to be very lackluster but so did her eggs. 

At this point I was frazzled and defeated. When I realized I could just close my door and ignore her I totally did. I needed that rest as this was my first chance to be alone since Nantes this was her first time to explore without me. Surely, she tried to rouse me but I don't think to actually ask if I would accompany her. I believe it was a passive aggressive door slam or two and then squeaking to see if I was awake. Honestly, I was awake whenever she asked; I just closed my laptop and held my breath. I was doing a lot of fact checking and blogging. I saw that the plaza we crossed through to get to our flat was once used for criminal executions. Yeah, those gorgeous balconies once held royalty, high end spectators and doomed bad guys. There in the center of Plaza Mayor a many were hung for all to see. She was probably seeing all the good sights without me, exploiting them with her noisy camera and then coming back and pretending she got nothing accomplished. When I finally got up she was clearly frustrated with me. However, when we got out that evening I was able to tell her she was walking through the blood of many in her Toms. Of course, it became a running joke as we went to and fro. Look at the American girls just strolling through the ghosts of kings, queens, thieves and murderers alike.  

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