Europe Day 23 of 59, Rome to Madrid

It had been twenty-two days since we had dealt with an airplane. Since arriving in France three weeks ago we had taken trains and ships, but no planes. One thing that shocked us as we prepared for this trip was that it was much less expensive for us to fly from country to country versus taking the train. We'd looked forward to taking trains all over Europe, but when air is faster and cheaper, how do you say no? This morning I put together why trains cost more.

The misery factor. Barbie wisely paid extra with easyJet so that we could use the Speedy Boarding option, which meant that we walked past this massive line into our own line. But the mood in a train station compared to the mood in an airport... it's like the difference between a birthday and a funeral.

Now, easyJet is like the Southwest Airlines of Europe. No assigned seats and at the gate there were three sections for boarding order; SB, A and B. We walked over to SB and were the only ones there. Out of habit, we stood somewhat to the side of our roped off area. A few minutes later, an older woman in red walks up next to us. Refusing to make eye contact, she steps forward little by little, clearly looking to move in front of us. We are, by anyone's math, two people. Standing behind me would make her the third person on the plane. Between you and I, she would likely get the seat of her choice as the third person to board the plane. But third was clearly unacceptable to her.

She left the SB section and went around to the side and stood for a while, then she reached over and removed one of the ropes to keep people away from the gate. Then she stood there, again clearly making an effort to not look at us so I took her picture in a very obvious manner. Sevral times. I don't think I made her uncomfortable, which means I failed in my goal.

Rhymes with stitch.

When they announced they would begin boarding she walked up to the guy and handed him her ticket before he nodded for anyone to step forward. We didn't really care that she cut in front of us. The whole thing was comical.

And our charity towards her was rewarded, for on our plane was a group of say twenty Spanish high school girls. Barbie kept telling me to take pictures, and I kept saying things like, "I don't want to be a creepy old stalker." But at the luggage carousel...

I had a moment of weakness. You owe me for this one, fellas.

We hopped into the car and off we went on a highway that, as in Italy, could have been in the USA. You know, I can't help but think at least once per day that all of the Anti-Europe people in the USA would be amazed at how similar North America is to Europe. The truth is that the USA is a country founded by and dominated by Europeans, and the average American would feel right at home here.

On the way in, I snapped this pic of the Puerta de Alcalá. What a great way to enter a city.

We got to our hotel were a tad early for our room. Time to eat.

Ham and beans, on fried egg. This was freaking delicious.

Barbie ordered scrambled eggs with asparagus, mushrooms, and shrimp.

Me? I got a lamb shank.

With la cuenta they brought little ice creams and two liqueurs. I poured some of each and it smelled so good I got Barbie to sniff it. She liked the smell so she sipped it, and the way her face cringed in revulsion made me laugh for a few minutes. She'll never be a boozer, that one. (Tasted great to me.) Time to get back to the hotel.

Our Madrid address, The Westin Palace Madrid.

The view out our window of the Fuente de Neptuno, in the center of the Paseo del Prado. I can officially say "fountain" in four languages.

By the way, after France and Italy, where my language skills are terrible and weak, it's quite refreshing to be in a country where I can at the very least understand most written words. I wonder if it will be easier to communicate here or in Ireland?

Walking home after dinner through the Paseo del Prado, this fountain looked fairly photogenic.

The Paseo del Prado in the evening. Beautiful, no?

Always funny to see movie stars in overseas ads. Does Nicole Kidman rep Schweppes in the USA? No?

El Museo del Prado at dusk. Tomorrow we go inside, though I'm most excited to hit the Reina Sofia, where I get to see Picasso's "Guernica" in person. I plan to give myself 10 minutes with it.

Our hotel on the left, Neptune on the right. Were I to put a Loony Tunes-esque dotted line in the sky between them you would see the path of my vision when I took that picture from our room.

Our room is THERE. Good night.

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