A day with another Tourist

I met Greg outside his hostal the next day for lunch. He wanted a diner so he could get an omlette with lots of cheese (I knew that wasn't going to happen, melted cheese not so big here and have yet to see a "diner"). I pointed to one and he thought it was a bit scary looking. So then he had to make the choice. So he picked out a cute little restaurant with a patio.

Greg speaks no Spanish (in fact the first night I met him I called him mi amigo and he exclaimed- oh awesome you know Spanish!) He asked if they had any omlettes and the waiter said- NO. So I ordered him a tortilla (in spain tortillas are omlettes) he asked for extra cheese and the waiter said NO. Nothing on the menu looked paticularly interesting so I ordered the cream soup. But before that came the bread. Now, they don't serve butter with bread, but rather a few whole cloves of garlic and two whole tomatoes. Greg was just looking at it confused and I was able to show off my new skills. I quickly unpeeled the garlic, and rubbed it on the bread, cut the tomato in half (with Greg pointing out that all the tourists were staring at me) and spread that on the bread, then drizzled some olive oil on it and sprinkled a dash of salt. Just like a native. He admitted it was good, but wondered how many plate of tomatoes and garlic were just left untouched by the confused tourists. He assummed it was probably about 80% and he might be right.

Then our food arrived. Greg eyed his "tortilla" questionably but admitted it was pretty good. My "cream" soup on the other hand was the subject of much interest and scorn. It was broth with mushy spaghetti and chunks of uncooked bacon, garbanzo beans and other unidentifiable objects that Greg would point too and say "what is that?". Oh my, I was so hungry and it was so terrible. Then I have Greg saying-- "Do you remember when you said, maybe we should try this patio, and I said no, this looks good, then you said we should maybe try the next patio and I said no, I think this place looks the best. I bet you do not forget that conversation for a long time."

So then we decided to go to the Pablo Picasso museum. It took us 2 hours of trying to find it (and it was in the neighborhood) and many awkward conversations. Greg wouldn't even try to speak Spanish, just walked right up speaking English. They wouldn't talk to him, so I would ask in Spanish and they'd be helpful, but since of course my Spanish really sucks I could never understand the directions, and don't try and count on Greg to remember the hand signals ("They are worse than the French! Don't they know everyone is supposed to know English, it is how we are able to travel!" On a side note: I have heard this from many Europeans that speak English, they get very frustrated that someone does not, they learned it so they could communicate everywhere and when others don't it just ruins the whole concept)

Of course Picasso museum was closed, so we hit the Dahli instead, but not before getting some scrumptious looking deserts at a bakery and taking a break to listen to a trumpet player in a church square.

My friend Eduardo from Madrid was in town that evening. So I told Greg that we should have a glass of wine, then I would go home and take a nap before I met Eduardo for a nice dinner. And him and Silvauna would meet Eduardo after dinner. I thought it was a nice plan, I really like hanging with Eduardo. But then Silvauna called in the middle of drinks. She was with her friend Sandy (a Canadian currently living in Amersterdamn), so we went in search of them. Yeah, if we could not find the Picasso museum, there was no way in hell we were finding a bar in a neighborhood we had never been too. But we tried!

I stopped to ask a cute old couple where Born Square was. Surprise they knew no Spanish, because of course they were French. So I waived Greg over and he was very patient as this old couple pulled out every map and guide and tour book they had looking for a very unfamous square. About 30 seconds into the conversation we realized they were going to be no help whatsoever, but boy were they nice, unfortunately it took them about 5 minutes to figure out they knew nothing. Greg was being as polite as he could possibly be, but he looked like he was talking to his grandmother while she extolls the virtues of wearing clean underwear.

We called Silvauna defeated and she says they're on their way to meet us. That's when Greg came up with the idea of becoming street performers to pass the time. After much discussion of what kind of performance would be best (we settled on singing punk rock) and Greg starting to go into the souvenigier store to get a hat (to collect the money, the bet was we had to perform until we got a euro) Silvauna thankfully showed up and saved us from ourselves.

I called Eduardo who, being fabulously Eduardo, was not disappointed at all and met us at the bar, as did Sandy's husband (boyfriend?) who was German. It was determined that none of us had to work the next day (even Eduardo, it was travel day for him, he usually has to be back at his hotel room by midnight) so we went dancing. Now that was fun. Too bad Greg got mugged while we were leaving, still not sure how that happened. (see I told you I was tougher than him).

We put Silvana back in the cab and walked home. The next day Greg had to be out of his hostal at 11am, so my buzzer woke me up at 11:15 with him at the door. Which was good because I had to meet Luci for coffee. He slept on my couch while I went and I promised to pick up some food for lunch when I got back.

I knew I had some fondue in the fridge, so I picked up a couple apples and a loaf of bread. "You brought me an APPLE? What the hell am I supposed to do with an APPLE? You promised me lunch!"

Here I am trying to be all European and it's the Frenchman that insists we get Pizza Hut. (weird cheese of course)

We just recovered that day, but I think I turned Greg into a 30 Rock fan and he finally left to catch a bus to the airport for his flight to Athens.

It really was fun and since Greg is also traveling extensively, I hope not my last time in a strange city with him.