Yesterday after class, I met up with Paolo, one of my fellow students. My impression was that we were going to the southern part of Madrid to visit a small cathedral of sorts--una iglesia. Well, that just goes to show what sorts of misunderstandings there can be when you have two people who are both learning a language making plans together in that language.
We got on the metro and took it down to the southern part of the city, where we got off and switched from the regular metro to the renfre train--which is for longer-distance trips.
Now I understood that we were going somewhere not in the south of the city of Madrid, but in the south of the community of Madrid. An important distinction. Like many big cities, Madrid is an actual city, but then also has many other small towns and whatnot under it's overarching jurisdiction. So we went to a small town--I think of around 25,000 people--where one of Paolo's friends was a priest in the local catholic church.
The town itself was actually kind of ugly, but it was really interesting to see a non-big city view of life in Spain. Also, the priest, "L0uis" (not sure about spelling) was really nice, and took as around the town, just talking of this and that, and then bought us a drink (coke for me, thanks) at the local bar. Then he drove us part of the way back toward Madrid in his car, which cut our train ride shorter, and allowed him to chat with Paolo in Italian while I sat in the back seat and enjoyed sitting down. A lot. Ahh.
By the time Paolo and I got back to Gran Via, the street where we both live (a main thoroughfare in the center of Madrid), it was pushing 9pm, which in Spain means dinner time. We dropped stuff off at our respective apartments and walked down the street to look for a place to eat. We were searching for a place called La Taverna de los Conspiradores, a restaurant recommended to us by one of Louis's friends who was at the bar.
Needless to say, our light jaunt turned into a desperate, all-out hunt, as we searched high and low for the illusive establishment. We must have asked 3 or 4 scurrying Spaniards and a Chinese lady in a shop before we found someone who yes, was familiar with the area and yes, knew the place we were searching for. It turns out he even knew the address (hmm, he must have been one of the conspiradores...), which turned out to be very helpful, because when we got to the address, there was a restaurant, but it wasn't the Conspiradores, it was La Taverna del Buen Suceso. Turns out it was a rather ironic name for the place (suceso means "event" in Spanish, so the name meant "The Tavern of the good/great event." We gave up hope of eating at the Conspiradores, and went in to eat, before it got too late. After a little digging, we found that the restaurant had changed names a year or so ago, and used to be called Los Conspiradores. (aparently the name change was the good event?)
Full of delicious food, and satisfied that we'd solved the mystery of Los Conspiradores, we toddled back to our apartments. Needless to say, I slept very soundly last night, which is a real mark of how tired I was, because la Gran Via is a place that never sleeps, and indeed, doesn't really get ready and raring until 7 or so in the evening.
Now, I am finishing packing to leave for the church retreat this weekend where the churches from Madrid and Hoyo will be having a time of renewal and fellowship in the region of Guadalajara (Spain, not Mexico). Tomorrow is Mercy's birthday, and I'm sad I'm not going to be with the family, but hoping to skype anyway.
Hasta luego, or as they say here in Madrid, "Hast'logo."
Till later.
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