Madrid, My Secret European Romance

You know those times you're showing off pictures from a recent trip to your friends and with each image you try to explain the vastness of the image or the intensity surrounding the image? And you try and try to make it appeal to them in the same way it hit you when you first laid eyes on it? And then you ultimately realize no words can describe what you saw, experienced or felt? Yeah. That's where I am with my post-Europe blog.
 

I've written this blog a few times, thought it out in my head while listening to "Medicine" by Daughter (on repeat), flung my legs up in the air while laying upside down on bed being certain this act itself would cause the words to immediately spill out of me. Ten minutes into this activity I realized the words flowing from me were actually in the form of blood to my brain. Flip. Blank slate. Again. There is no chance I'll be able to successfully explain my feelings about this trip but it's still worth sharing.

For those looking for a brief overview of my trip, the next few sentences are for you. It was wonderful, it was tiring, it was scary and exciting. I visited Paris, Florence, Venice, Rome, Barcelona and Madrid. I ventured out alone, got lost along the streets of Italy and explored local bars in Spain with another California native. Madrid was my favorite of all the places and Spanish men...well, they were also a favorite. Swoon. It was an experience I'd love to do again and one that I am beyond blessed to have been able to experience.

Now, for the long version. I'm a shy girl, I never know how to initiate conversation with strangers, I blush when I talk to men (all men), and I have no sense of direction. So of course a trip to Europe alone sounded liked a brilliant idea. I'm scared of many things but I have held true to at least trying things once, facing fears even when it makes me want to throw up all the butterflies in my stomach. So on November 9 I left San Diego with a backpack the full length of my body and my passport, ready for whatever came my way.

I had a lot going on life before my trip and it came at just the right moment. I needed an escape. Arriving in Paris was surreal. The lights, the crowds, the language, it was so beautiful and I instantly felt small. There is so much of the world that I want to see and so many cultures I want to be a part of. At least in France, I had friends that eased me into the new journey. Paris led me down streets of cobblestone and through sights like the fog-covered Eiffel Tower, the Lourve, street cafes with foamy cappuccinos and a Brazilian bar where we worked on our dance moves.

Italy proved to be more of a challenge as I entered the country without knowing a single person. In Venice I found myself longing for a friend to speak with about the sights I was seeing, I felt lonely. I imagined my whole trip would be like a solitary journey, one where Kerouac and I could reminisce about our time "On The Road" but you know...without one-night stands and {less} whiskey. In Florence I made my way to the sights and enjoyed some Italian pasta and wines along the way. And I met a friend, through her I was reminded of the reason I agreed to this trip in the first place. I wanted to prove to myself that I was not my shyness, that happiness was not determined by the amount of friends I had surrounding me at any moment.

In Rome, I regained my enthusiasm. The architecture, the culture, the foods. How can you not love a place where the Colosseum sits? The Vatican City, the Sistine Chapel, the Pantheon, every building, every vespa that sped past. It was overwhelming to be in such a beautiful place. Italy won for the best wines of the trip.

Finally, in Spain, I fell in love. I had wanted to travel to Spain for years, considered packing my bags and moving there a few years back. Barcelona was breathtaking. The Gaudi buildings made my heart race and I was speechless at the sight of La Sagrada Familia. The delicate details that went into the construction of it, the stories behind the images and the light that made it's way through the stained glass windows of the cathedral flooding the white pillars with rainbows of color, these images will last with me forever.

My last stop landed in Madrid. I had hoped to like Madrid as much as Barcelona but I hadn't expected it to surpass my love for Barcelona. Immediately upon arriving in my hostel I was able to meet my roommate Jessika who was from Fresno traveling alone. From that point on, we walked all over Madrid together drinking cappuccinos and cafe con leche. Jess had a notion of wanting to look like a local which meant me shielding her from anyone walking by as she searched a map with directions on where to go next. 

We spent a few hours in a little cafe chatting as we hid from the dropping rain outside. We explored Spanish bars and were bought drinks by men much too old for us inside a quaint, artsy bar reminiscent of Vesuvio's in SF. And I danced, with no cares and reckless abandon. If I had a choice, I'd have set up shop right then and there in Madrid. During my time there I had the feeling of a new love in my stomach. It was as if I had recently discovered a new crush and the butterflies would show themselves around every turn and with each new encounter. It was my own secret European romance.

And now I'm home. I'm still shy. I still blush when I talk to men. I still use my GPS to get places in San Diego. But one thing has changed, I found that I could survive on my own without the comfort of friends, family or a home and be just fine. I'm ready to take on new countries without fear.

There's a chance I will find the spirit to write more in later posts but I am still trying to figure out how I was changed from this trip, how I stayed the same and how I felt about the new chapter in my story. It seems like one big tangled mess, so for now, I'm settling for getting out some initial thoughts before it all becomes one big blur. 

Safe travels.

Madrid

Venice

Paris

Cappuccino