We met Gretch at the Madrid Aeropuerto last Monday, August 21 at around 11am. We smashed ourselves into one cab and proceeded to our Tryp Menfis Hotel along Gran Via. We struggled with the heavy hotel
doors and our baggage which kept falling all over the place. We were too exhausted from laughing to care though.
Lunch was at a quaint little bar called Le something, sadly I forgot. Noel had scrumptious angulas con gambas, Gretch had 4 apperetivos that she could choose herself from the bar, and I had some bacalao called Al Pil Pil. It was swimming in some type of creamy sauce. It wasn’t too much of a hit.
We went back to our hotel for a much needed siesta, for Nic was picking us up for a night out on the town, Madrileño style. We met Nic’s friends Pocholo and Mayte for dinner; afterwhich we hit our first bar where we met some more of Nic’s friends. We then proceeded to our next stop, called La Zarzamora. We were just getting warmed up to the Spanish music here when we were invited to move to yet another bar. We had to wait for the rain to stop first though, so Gretch, Nic, Mayte, Noel and I stayed by the doorway.
I whipped out my cell from my bag as I thought I felt it vibrate. I lifted it up to the sky, and squinted since it was so dark inside the bar. The Spanish guy talking to Nic, turned to me and said: “Eso es un mobil.” (As if, it came from my bag!) To which I replied: “No tengo mensajes.” “Te voy a mandar ahora.” Mystery boy (Nic thought he looked about 15!) offered. He had a friend with him who was asking us to teach him some Filipino, and they asked if we were waiting for our friends. I explained we were with our friends already and I pointed to my husband as well. To which he replied: “I understand.” Backed away, and started talking to Nic again. We moved onto our final bar for that night, O’ Connell’s.
“Todo! Todo! Todo!” Was all I could hear with matching pounding on the table while I tried to down my flaming Lamborghini. (This was a man from the bar who wasn’t even part of our group). I burnt 2 straws in the process, as I was not drinking the blue Curacao, Bailey’s and kahlua concoction fast enough. We went in pairs to the bar, as was suggested by Poch, our master of ceremonies that night.
Nicola and I were teary-eyed after we emptied our glasses. I could feel it burning down my throat and my insides were topsy-turvy soon after. I remember saying out loud that my head was so big and that everyone was moving so slowly. We ended the night jumping up and arms around one another, in a circle.
The next day Gretch and I woke up with awful hang-overs, and our own stories to tell.
The funniest thing was the photo Noel had with this guy at the bar. We were all screaming and laughing: “Who’s this????”