Last night I spent my last full night in Madrid. I realized as I stared out of the window of the bedroom I have lived in for the past month, watching the trees blow in the breeze as the sun starts to set at about 10pm, that I am going to terribly miss Madrid. I met a couple of the girls out for Chinese (sort of, more like Asian Fusion) food that was fantastic, and Sangria that was not. We decided as we walked out that we simply HAD to have our last Madrid experiece be to go back to the metal bar. There we were greeted by the same huge bartender, only this time the place was packed. There were three types of people in the bar; dude with shaved heads wearing all black, dudes with long hair wearing all black, and the women who loved them. The guy next to me started asking me something in rough tone of voice, and I was stumped for a moment, wondering if this would be my first bar-brawl. Turns out he was asking if we wanted to sit at their table since we had a group and it was just he and his friend. Why are the nicest people in Spain found in the Death Metal bar?
I had to run to the metro to make it home on time. My last long and lonely train ride, bleary-eyed and in love with Madrid. At 4 am when my roommate was picked up to go to the airport, I felt a tinge of panic that I was at last, on my own in a country I hardly knew, with travel plans long ahead of me. But today as I awoke I was filled with nothing but contentment and excitement at what lies ahead.
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