Pub Crawls and Spanglish

Monument to Christopher Columbus Sept 7: get up, take advantage of the free breakfast, head to walking tour organized by the hostel at 11:15. Tour takes about 3 hours; we are dying of heat by the end of it--Seville is HOT if you didn't know. The thermometer read 43 degrees--at 9 am. Tour was interesting, learned a lot of history of the town, but our guide kept telling us how hungover he was and looking at his notes, so he only got 5 Euros from me at the end. Was about 3:30 by the time we got back, so I just walked around town for a bit by the hostel.

Now, in Spain, for a Canadian like me, ordering food is a process; it's a bit like putting a blindfold on and pointing at the menu, since I have no idea what anything means. Every meal is a surprise! Good thing I'm into this whole food adventure, otherwise I could be in for quite a shock (I hear they eat sheep's brains here, no joke--note to self: I should probably learn what that is in Spanish). I tend to just point at whatever I want to have, since I don't know the sentences required for simple tasks like ordering food or buying train tickets. Anyway, I am on the hunt for salad at all times after being deprived of vegetables for two months in Asia, so I stop at a cafe on my way back from the tour. Just my luck, Spain is not big on salad. But they do have Pinchos. Whatever that is. I take a gamble and order one. They sound like a baguette sandwich from what I can decipher. I'm ravenous at this point--I can't wait to tuck into a hearty lunch. It arrives, and it turns out a Pincho is a SLICE of baguette toast with cheese and one lonely anchovy. That's it. (And no salad in sight). I guess that's why it was only 2 euros on the menu...

I took advantage of the meal at the hostel, which was a plate of Mexican food and sangria for 4 euros--not bad! Our hostel was running a pub crawl for 10 Euros and you got four shots included. It sounded like a good deal and lots of people were going, so I decided to do it. Besides, I hadn't been on a pub crawl yet so I thought it would be a good way to meet people. I was right; I met some Australians, a couple of German girls, a Seattle native living in Prague, and a big group from Belgium. Seattle and I decided to teach everyone how to play flip cup, and so began our pub crawl evening. How can you not play flip cup in Spain? You start by singing Ole, Ole Ole Ole for goodness' sake!

The guy leading the pub crawl is the tour guide from this morning...Raphael--and get this--he's a sculptor. I'm not making this up. He put his best Spanish moves on me but I wasn't buying it. ("I'm an artist...maybe I'll show you my work sometime.." I saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Raphael. I know exactly what you're up to.)

We headed out at about 11:30 and the crawl was average at best. The first place we went to was empty except for our group; the second place had litre mojitos for 5 Euros, so we ordered, but they took about half an hour to make them and they were the grossest thing I've ever tasted. As a bartender I was offended someone would serve that! (He didn't even muddle the mint leaves...in a MOJITO!) At the next bar I realized, to my dismay, they hadn't given me the proper change at the last place, so to add insult to injury, not only did I have a litre of sugar water, but it cost me about 40 Euros. Not good. The last place we went to, we were told, was a dance club. We get there, and it's a reggae club. People are smoking everywhere inside, and it's just generally sketchy. We decide to peace and walk home. I met an Australian who grew up in Zimbabwe and was full of great stories, so at least the night ended on a good note--until I looked at the clock and realized it was 6:30 am. We literally saw people opening their cafes for breakfast on our way back to the hostel.

Me at the Plaza de Espana