Emerging from the labyrinthian metro station of bright white lights bouncing off shining tiled walls enclosing a sea of bobbing heads, the sun temporarily blinds as the breeze carries a fresh scent from the hills just beyond the city limits. I'm standing at Moncloa, surrounded by students and drones alike, looking over a broad vista through the gate of a great stone arch at a downward-sloping countryside that goes from ochre to green as it sprawls away from the capitol toward bluegreen mountains. To my left is the Ejercito Del Aire, a massive, stately looking building of brick and stone housing god knows what, that sits atop a pedestal with highly cultivated hedges and grass in front. The sun, posed high in the sky above el Ejercito, is unchallenged in a cloudless cerulean sky. I turn to the massive rotunda behind me, stroll along it's lefthand side and begin to walk up C/ Fernandez de los Rios, heading for the offices of my new employer.
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The training is through. Four weeks passed like Hamilton in the last turn and now it's back to post-grad life and its eternal struggle as the hedonist-cum-accountant. As far as I can tell the course was a success. I made great friends, taught and learned a lot from some wonderful students, and now I have a job that will keep me housed and fed from month to month. Scheduling is less that sweet; morning classes from 8:30-10 and after noon from 12-14:00 or 13-15:00 depending, and lots of time spent travelling from site to site. But this is what I came here for, to go beyond the traveller who eats and drinks and spends and photographs. Besides, I can do that on my weekends, which start at 15:00 on thursdays and end sunday nights. The grind begins on the coming monday.
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I'm still in the bariro of La Latina, home to bohos, indies, revolutionaries, yuppies, and octogenarians alike, all bound by a common love of food and drink, an appreciation for old city flavor, and a tolerance for drunks, dog shit, and constant construction. I love the location and my flat is great, but it's time to find cheaper digs.
The women seem to be increasing in beauty as the nights decrease in temperature, and the botellons (free drinking gatherings outdoors on terrazas, in plazas, and basically everywhere that lacks walls and a roof) drop in frequency. Scarves and winter coats populate the city and the need to explore becomes ever pressing as the limits of what exists in a particular place come into view. Thus...this weekend's Barcelona trip has been moved to the end of the month, allowing for what should be a great day trip to the mountains this week and a weekend-long celebration in the following week for Thanksgiving and the departure of a dear friend. Stephanie will be leaving indefinately for her home in Brasil. We hope to lose 5 years of our life-spans in gourmandizing that weekend.
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In the last few days before work begins it will be important to observe and digest all that I can about the life that happens in between plans. No opportunity shall be declined and no experience feared. Swimming in the park at night was just the beginning. The camera is back in action, so get ready for some shots of the city. I will be taking scenic photos of the cityscape but I also hope to get some pictures of madrilenos doing madrileno things, to give you some sabor local.
'Sta lo-o...
