¡Viva el gran gringo!

Here's what I love about traveling by the seat of your pants: before I came to Europe, I wasn't really considering coming to Spain. I figured it would be too far out of the way; something I should save for another trip. But while I was in Paris, pondering where to go next, I just thought, "Screw it, Spain sounds nice. I think I'll go." And that was that. If I had planned everything out before I left, there's no way I would have ever made it out here.

Alright, enough advertising for independent travel. As you probably guessed, I'm in Spain at the moment, Madrid to be exact. It's definitely a radical departure from the northern European locales I've been visiting. You can definitely tell that people here are more passionate, and a lot less reserved. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the powerful Mediterranean sun, which has been out in full force for the past several days. The weather has been absolutely beautiful, with blue skies and light breezes, and highs in the low 80s every day. Beats the hell out of Netherlands weather.

Yesterday I started things off with a trip to the Museo del Prado, which has one of Europe's best collections of 16th-19th century paintings, many by Spanish painters (Goya, most notably). It was nice, but I didn't like it as much as the Musee d'Orsay in Paris. A little too much religious art which, as you might imagine, can get pretty repetitive. And a lot of portraits of expressionless, smirking rich people. However, the Prado is also home to Hieronymus Bosch's famous "Garden of Earthly Delights," which was really cool to see. This guy had to be on LSD or something. His depiction of eternal damnation is awfully creative, even a little hilarious. I'll go out on a limb and say that, among paintings depicting flutes up the ass, pig-nuns, and ice skating in hell, this one is probably my favorite. In any case, when I left the museum, all I could say was, "The Prado...bwuaaah." (That one's for you, Colin).

Later that night I decided to go to a Sunday night bullfight with a couple guys from the hostel. Wow...what an experience. It was incredibly visceral from start to finish. Probably the craziest part was watching the picadors on horseback. Basically, they sit atop a horse weilding a long spear, and they turn the horse so that its right side is facing the bull. Apparently this has the same enraging effect as waving a cape, because the bull charges at the horse and hits it straight in the chest, at which point the picador goes in for a jab with the spear. It's nuts...we could hear the impact (a giant THUD) from way up in the cheap seats. The horse wears some sort of armore that prevents it from getting full-on gored, but the force of the blow is so strong that it often gets lifted off its feet, and it has to lean straight into the bull in order to stay upright. I don't know how they could possibly train horses to do this.

I respect the fact that bullfighting is part of the cultural heritage of Spain, but I don't think I could see myself becoming an aficionado. That said, I can definitely see why it is popular. When you have a really good bull and an equally good matador, it's like they fuse together and become one entity. Even when faced with a charging 650 kg bull, every move the matador makes is fluid and graceful. And its a great example of showmanship at its finest...the matador definitely knows how to get the crowd going, and the atmosphere can be electric at times.

Anyways, I'm running out of internet minutes, so I should hit the road. More to come in a few days!