view of the DIRECT route to El Escorial(one of the other surprises) The place itself.
The building is massive the township is tight and cramped in that Spanish perched on a hillside sort of a way. Very well worth a visit if you are ever in Madrid. Direct train from Atocha.
Ramon and Gabriella doing Chintzi in the foreground.
so Surprise surprise... Well first thing was my beloved iPhone..... gone. Just like that. Pickpocket team on the escalator(blocked path) on my way to the hostel. I was so pissed off i almost went to Seville without stopping for the seminar. The above trip was a sort of cooling off period. That was not the end of it either. The next day i was targetted again by a team of three. I knew something was wierd when this big guy blocked my path on the Metro(remember that... Metro.. Beware) and refused to budge. So i using my Tai Chi Skills slipped and squirmed my way past. Next thing i know a pen form my front top jacket pocket flies of its own volition(or so it seemed to me) Six or so feet across the carraige. Strange i thought Looking around me and feeling a tad suspicious. The guy I assumed to be the artist picked up the pen and returned it to me.... Your Pen Mr! So I clambered around the big guy who still refused to move to a position i felt of safety only to feel a tickling sensation against my side where my bag was. I grabbed the bag to my chest checked the contents; all there, but inner zipped pocket half open(passport in there). I turned around to find another very tall guy staring very hard at the roof of the carraige. In fact both the very tall guys were now staring very hard at the ceiling.
The name for the method they were using i have since found out was the third mit or paw or it could even be hand as that was what it was. One arm is kept out of the jacket arm and inside the jacket. The jacket arm is stuffed to make it seem filled. The concealed hand is then used to rifle the unsuspecting tourist. That was not the end of it. On the last day in Madrid after the seminar i went to the hole in th wall to get money to pay my dues. As we (Dan Claire and me) merrily sauntered thru the streets of madrid laughing at the events that had befallen me and the good times we had had in Aranjuez. I caught sight of a hand in my periferal vision, then a scarf, then a scarf seeming to move of its own volition towards my pocket. The pocket dopey here had put his wallet in with all his money and credit cards. I did not turn around i just put my hand in my pocket put my wallet where it should have been and kept walking. Nor was that the end of it. After a very merry evening wandering the streets of the City, A guy aproached us called out to Dan, extended his hand, said a few words and then walked off (well thats what it seemed like, actually he dissapeared sharpish). Then and this only took at most a minute, Dan said 'my wallet it's gone'.
so there you have it. Madrid during the festival period may not be a good time for tourists.
As usual the seminar was great.
However that was not to be the end of the surprises for me.
Despite it all, we had had a really pleasant evening. We had wandered round Plaza Mayor, eaten in a place we had wanted to for a few trips, met Steve with his partner and kids as we sat there eating(what were the chances)((Madrid Steve Not Valencia Steve). We visited many bars and drank much fine wine. we even found a Cidre bar and quaffed in there.
I awoke in the now unacustomed position. Face down fully dressed(at least i made the bed this time) Last time this happened was in Valencia( I woke up on the floor. this happens very infrequently, honest). Hmmm I though,t travelling home to day mmmight be a bit grubby but at least It won't be long..................
Claire got a text from her mother re ash clouds and closed airports...... Edinburh was closed and so it stayed. There were no flights available that week to tranfer on to. The train was going to cost something like £500. We were meetin Ramon for lunch. I got him to take me somewhere we could find out about buses, then I bought a ticket on the first bus out. Luckily that first bus out went at 16.30 that day. and it was not First Bus it was Eurobus.
Advice
When they say check in they mean check in... It is not just a case of turning up and handing in yr bag like Glasgow/Londres. I got really agitated in that queue to the point i was jumping up and down on the spot, getting lots of funny looks(even funnier than the ones i usually get). There were 10 minutes till kick off and i was still along way from the touch line, having visions of an even more complicated scenario unfolding, My slow lunch becoming the equivalent of Green's own goal( could have stayed at Ramon's so there was really no disaster going to befall me). I wanted to be on my way home. I wanted to be home.
Euro Bus
Euro bus is great. Euro bus has seats that go so far back you can comfortably sleep. They are the business class of busses. You can get your legs behind the seat in front without doing damage to yr kneecaps.
I was booked on till London. The trip was timed at 24hrs and that is exactly how long it took. The bus took us up thru Northern Spain over the Pyrinees and on thu France to Paris with one change. Then from Paris to Calais and the ferry to Dover and the bus to Londres.
It turned out to be a great way to see parts of Spain i had never been near. Walled townships, Villages with enormous Spanish type churches, Castles, Palaces. Then there were the Mountains.
I met a couple of people on the trip one young guy who had been woofing(working on organic farms for board n lodgings) and had decided he had had enough of that for now thank you very much and a guy a bit older than myself who had just done in a one, that pilgrimage walk the name of which escapes me. He said that he was going home to seek psychiatric help. he had been walking for 2 months. John was his name; started with a belly, at the end it was gone. France was nice but unspectacular on that particular route. When we got to London, John and i booked our tickets for Glasgow and hung around till it was bus time... We ended up on different buses..... I hope his was more comfortable than mine. It was the bus trip from hell. It was Now Tuesday night. I had left Spain on Monday. i had been wearing the same clothes since Sunday. Tho The Euro bus was comfortable i had only slept for short periods and my last nights sleep in Spain had not been a good one. I was booked on Megabus where the seats pretend they go back but in reality they only tease and if you are of a certain size you can't fit your knees behind the seat in front. By now I noticed that my ankles had begun to swell due to the lack of activity and gravity's relenless pull. It was not good. The bus was packed. it was an evening and night of sitting bolt upright. there was no other option. I don't know if that bus spends any time on the highway to hell but it was a reddish sort of colour and now that I think of it the front did have a demonic sort of aspect. Ghost riders on the M6. No sleep till Glasgow.... and then some.
So i did what a good zen man should and counted breathes all the way to Glasgow. You may say why? but it really helps keep things together. It allowed me to dropped of on a couple of occasions to be woken as i fell from my seat. it got me there. A cat nap is better than no nap. One of the good things about meditating is that if you are tired you will fall asleep.
So I made it home. Mega bus hell; it was glowing red, turned into short taxi ride which was followed by a shower and a change of clothing.
Surprisingly i stayed up the rest of the day and slept for the next 2.
Thanks to all the guys in Aranjuez for a great weekend, hospitality, nights out. We never got as far as table dancing but i think that is just a matter of time.
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