We wanted to take the earliest train from Fes to Casablanca (8:50am) but decided that we didn’t want to skip the breakfast at the riad so we opted for a later one.

The train ride to Casablanca lasted four hours. We got to chat with a Moroccan on board the same cabin. Just like any average Moroccan, he was very adept in languages. He spoke to us in good English but told us that he also spoke French, Spanish, Arabic and Berber.

Upon reaching Casablanca, we immediately took a cab to the first hotel on our list. Since we did not have any hotels booked yet, we just listed three options and decided to book on the spot. The first hotel we went to was Hotel Du Centre, priced at 239dirham. Although it was a bit rundown, it fit our budget. But we wanted to check other hotHoteels too to compare. The next one was at 1,500dirhams, definitely beyond budget so we just decided to take the first one. The hotel kinda looked like a hospital plus the attendants were dressed in white. It had an ancient elevator too. We half expected to see a Frankenstein-looking man lurking in the shadows. On a more positive note, it was very near the center, close to the bigger hotel chains like Sheraton and Hyatt and is very accessible.

After getting settled in, we looked for a place to eat. From around 2pm-5pm, restaurants only serve drinks so we had a bit of a difficulty looking for a place that served food. Finally we found a small resto behind one of the big hotels. It was funny eating at Miramar Restaurant because everything that they served us was color yellow- from drinks to dessert.

After late lunch, we wanted to check out the Hassan Mosque but it was already too late so we just walked around the city. For some reason, I felt very wary in this city. I felt much safer in Fes. Maybe it is the fact that people here are more pushy or because there is a general atmosphere of people trying to survive a hard city life. There is also not much to see or do in Casablanca. As we were walking around, we were hoping to see some interesting places but we got a bit disappointed. So we gave the city one last shot and decided to go to its happening place, Boulevard de la Corniche.

It was rush hour so we had a bit of a difficulty getting a cab. Some people hitched with people on board the taxi cabs just to get home. After thirty minutes of no cab, a taxi stopped in front of us to drop off a passenger. But one of the passengers did not get off so we just decided to do what everyone else was doing and hitched with someone. Good thing we did since the other passenger, a young French guy working in Casablanca was headed in the direction of Corniche. He told us that it may be a bit early to go there since people usually arrive at 8:30. It was a little before 7pm. He also told us to be careful while walking around. Before getting off, he was kind enough to instruct the driver where to drop us off.

True enough, when we got to Corniche, the place was still quiet, with some store signs not yet turned on. So we just walked the stretch to while away time. Corniche is a seaside boulevard overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. It has a row of clubs, restos, a smattering of hotels and some fastfood chains. It also is a place where people exercised (running or biking). It is Casablanca’s version of our Roxas Boulevard Baywalk.

We had dinner and a few drinks at Mystic Garden, a modern and hip resto that transforms into a club later at night. I had salmon and Gabby had a beef pattie that had a weird taste. Their mojito and beer were yummy though. We were the only ones there and a few others arrived when we were about to leave. Then it was back to the hotel to get ready for an early train ride to Marrakesh. So Casablanca for us was really just a transition city, just a stop to break a supposedly long train ride.

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Breakfast began at the terrace of our riad overlooking the entire medina. We had a great view over the medina and much of Fes, and an equally great breakfast was served with bread, pancakes, cake like bread (torta), butter, cheese, olives, orange juice, coffee, milk and mint tea. Whew! No wonder we took our time finishing our food. Afterwards, we finally got out of the riad straight in the middle of the action, ready to take on the medina with all five senses.

Going through the medina is a very interesting experience. On one hand, it feels like going through the flea markets back home, especially in Baguio where Mench has very good command of the ukay-ukay shops. Add to that centuries-old buildings, magnificent Moorish architecture, an explosion of color from carpets, ceramics and leather, and the smells of the leather tanneries, donkey dung and all the different food being sold and you start to get idea of what being in a medina is like. It really is an assault on the senses, and it’s such a rewarding experiences to take it all in – good and bad, great smells and foul, and the greetings (mostly “Konichiwa” to us, although we did try to teach them a bit of “Mabuhay”) of every Abdul and Mohammed that you meet on the street, inviting you to visit their shops.

And the people! Moroccans are mostly of Berber (North African) origin, with light brown skin and facial features that are all their own – not quite Arab, not quite African, and not quite European. Every hundred meters you walk through the medina results in someone calling you out – it could be “Welcome”, “Konichiwa”, or a simple “Would you like to visit my shop?” Some people might get easily overwhelmed or downright annoyed by this, but coming from the Philippines, we were a bit used to it and took everything in stride. We just had to get rid of their notion that we were Japanese (which we couldn’t understand – no way do we look anything remotely like Japanese!) because the Japanese were tops on their list of spenders, according to Lonely Planet – and with our limited budget, we were definitely in the bottom!

We spent the next few hours just getting lost in the medina, taking a look (and smell) at everything it had to offer. We saw the Medersa Bouinania, a 14^th century mosque and medersa (theological college) with its beautiful mosaic patterns and classic Moorish architecture. We saw a lot of the different souks – a souk is roughly defined as a cluster of shops from the same industry. So we went through the leather souks, which shops had terrace views of the (really smelly) tanneries which they used to induce you to go into their shops; the henna souk, now mostly overrun by ceramics sellers; and many many more stores, selling everything from Moorish-style crafts, musical instruments, clothes, jewelry, carpets of course, but also cell phones, fake branded clothing, washing machines and other household appliances, and Moorish paintings.

We also saw the Palais Jamais, once a palace by a vizier to the sultan, and now no less grand as part of the Sofitel high-end hotel chain; the Nejjarine complex, comprising of an 18^th century Fondouk (building), a drinking fountain and a souk. Fountains in Fes by the way are attractions in themselves; it would be little more than freely available tap water that residents can get from a faucet, except that they are all decorated nicely in mosaics, and showed the importance of public water in a city located in the desert where this act was not easy to accomplish. Paid for by royalty and wealthy merchants in preceding centuries, most of these fountains are still working and still look just as nice.

We ended the day with a small haul from the day’s shopping – Mench was able to buy a leather bag, a Moorish-styled mirror, and earrings all for a decent price. I think Moroccans weren’t used to being the ones pressured on price – Mench really brought her bargaining “A” game sharpened from the ukay-ukay shops of Baguio, and the usually wily merchants were the ones having a hard time with her! When bargaining for the leather bag, she asked for a price so low that the merchant retorted, “It is made of leather, not plastic!” We really laughed out loud at that one.

We retreated to our riad’s terrace to get a view of the medina during sunset. Afterwards, it was a light dinner of pastilla and steak at a decently-priced restaurant nearby. We’re pretty happy with our experience with Fes, and now we’re ready to move on to see Casablanca and Marrakesh!

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We wanted to leave La Linea as early as possible so we took the 8:45am bus to Algeciras since we are to take the ferry to Tangier from there. La Linea is just 30 minutes away from Algeciras.

Upon arriving at Algeciras, we headed for the port area, after getting lost a bit since we did not like to take the cab. We finally found the way to the port but as we walked towards the ticket station, we were approached by a couple of old men. They pointed out that the ticket office was closed and asked if we needed tickets. We were a bit reluctant to go with them but Gabs was already talking to one of them so off we went to the ticket shop they were leading us to. We got our tickets for a fast ferry at 48euros each. The ferry was about to leave in ten minutes so we had to run all the way to the station. As we were rushing closer to the station, we saw that there was a central ticket station near the main entrance. So we just laughed about getting talked into a ticket seller and just carried on with our mad dash.

We made it to the check in counter just in time and passed through immigration. We were the last people to enter the boat-whew! Before settling down, we saw people lining up so we followed suit. They were already lining up for disembarkation stamping with the Moroccan Police. So we filled up the necessary documents before heading to our seats. The ferry was quite nice with café, a duty free store and good seats. It was a brief ride so people were just lounging by the café, checking out the shop and not really getting too comfy. We were getting more excited because we no longer could understand anything that was spoken around us so that meant we were in the midst of Moroccans/Berbers already!

Finally we arrive in Tangier (they are two hours back from Spain time). We were greeted by a few official guides as we entered the station but we headed for the information office to check where we could change our euros to dirham and where we could get a train to Fes. We were told that banks were located just down the station and that a petit taxi can take us to the station. So we changed our money and set-off to look for a cab.

We finally found a taxi bay. Just like in Manila where we have taxis waiting by the station and charging a fixed price, no longer flagging down the meter, so it is too with Tangier. We were approached by a man speaking in halting English and told us that he could take us to the station for 30 dirhams. We should’ve bargained lower but we were itching to leave the port so we agreed. We knew we were getting ripped off but at least the driver did it in style - he pointed out sights, gave some little tidbits of trivia and asked about us and where we came from. He even tried to impress us with his knowledge of the Philippines. When we told him where we were from, he exclaimed, “Abu Sayyaf! Good men, good men!” We just nodded our heads and put up half a smile. We got to the train station in ten minutes.

At the train station, we were told that the next train passing by Fes was leaving in ten minutes. So we immediately got our tickets. We chose to travel first class since there was not much difference in price anyway and we have been traveling all day so we wanted to have a little treat. For first class seats, we had to share a cabin with four other people but for the greater part of the trip, only four of us occupied the cabin. There was one girl who could speak a bit of English and looked a bit grunge and a guy who Gabby thought was weird because he was rummaging through the girl’s stuff when she went to the washroom (although he was pretty decent looking and didn’t seem like the type).

During the trip, we got to see changing landscapes of Morocco- barren mountain slopes, hectares of olive farms, vineyards, orange groves and grazing land for sheeps and cows. Along the way, we also saw whitewashed buildings on hills as we approached the more populated areas.

Finally we arrive in Fes after a four-hour train ride. Learning from our mistake of just taking the nearest taxi, we headed past the throng of people who just got off the train and proceeded straight to the main road. We finally got a petit taxi and told the driver to take us to Bab Bou Jeloud, the gates to the medina (Old Fes).

We chose to stay in the medina so that we did not have to worry about going back to hotel late at night after a day of sightseeing. We planned to go around the area anyway so we decided to stay within the medina. We already had a few options ready and just had to figure out how to find these riads (old houses converted into quaint hotels). Just a little past the gates, we were immediately befriended by a young boy who spoke a bit of good English. He told us that he could lead us to Dar Bounania, exactly the hotel that we were looking for. So we followed him. As we were nearing the hotel, he told us that it might be full but we persisted to see it. On the way though, we met someone who worked at Dar Bounania and told us that indeed they were full. We asked if she knew of any alternatives similar to their hotel. She mentioned Riad Hala and our eager young boy told us that he could take us there.

So we get to Riad Hala and immediately fell in love with the place. We were showed a room at the ground level but it was a bit expensive so we asked to see a cheaper one. We were showed a room at the top most level and decided to take it. It was a nice big room with bath. As we were settling down we could hear the young boy bargaining with the innkeeper for his commission. So that was how it worked here.

Excited to see the amazing medina, we drank our complimentary mint tea then headed straight for the souks just to soak everything in. My heart was soaring with joy because I love markets so much and the medina is one huge market. In Gabby’s words, it is like one big ukay-ukay! They sold all sorts of spices, olives, meats, pomegranates, oranges, yogurts, nuts, nougats, sweets, kebabs, mints, pastries etc. Leatherware like bags, jackets, ottomans, wallets and babouches (Moroccan slippers) were also on display. They also had a lot of metalware and of course carpets. We actually got talked into a shop by a very good salesman telling us that we did not have to buy but he just wanted to share with us the history of the Berber art of weaving carpets. As we walked past the shops, we heard a lot of “konichiwas”. Apparently, they thought we were Japanese since they could not probably place where we were from and just assumed our nationality. One guy even pointed to my Nikon camera and said “You Japanese?”

As we were going around, we noticed that the shopkeepers and their aides as well as some kids who wanted to guide tourists were persistent but in a friendly way. They did not try to press on too much and kept a comfortable distance so you did not feel that you were being harassed. They were very polite and courteous, graciously taking it when you say no. So when they approach, it is best to smile and say “No, thank you” instead of shooing them off.

We decided to have a nice dinner at one of the restos recommended by Lonely Planet just outside Bab Bou Jeloud, Medina Café. It was a nice resto, with very interesting Moroccan décor. It was quite popular too with tourists. We ordered couscous with chicken and raisins (good for 2 people) and a tagine with chicken. Dinner was sumptuous although a bit expensive for our budget so we decided that it was to be the nice dinner for this part of the trip (every city we have a signature nice meal :)) After dinner, it was back to hotel to rest after a tiring but fun day.

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Our one day affair with Sevilla done, we woke up early that day to take the autobus going to La Linea, Spain. La Linea is a town on the tip of the Mediterranean, and is the town separating Spain from the Rock of Gibraltar (which is owned by the UK). The bus took us along the coastal towns of Tarifa and Algeciras, both of which we could take to go to Morocco. We also made friends with some German backpackers along the way who were going to Tarifa.

By the time we got to La Linea, almost everyone in the bus had already departed for the earlier stops. From our research on the Internet, a lot of people were saying that La Linea was a somewhat seedy town, which could be a bit scary after dark. This prompted us to get a hotel which was a bit safer (a hotel chain) and nicer than usual, but not very far off our usual price range.

At around 1:30pm, we dumped our stuff at the hotel and proceeded to have a wonderful lunch at a Hong Kong-themed Chinese restaurant nearby. We were so happy to have all the familiar foods – fried rice, lemon chicken, hakaw dim sum, spring rolls! The food was relatively cheap too – 20 euro for everything. It’s true that you miss familiar food after a while, and this food really made us happy after all that we had been eating for the past few days.

Our sumptuous meal done, we decided to walk to the border of Gibraltar, taking pictures of the rock along the way. It’s really a very small area – it looks like the cliff face of a mountain, and we estimated spending no more than an afternoon there – 3 or 4 hours tops. We could see from the distance the cable car that would take us to the top of the rock.

We bought our tickets to the cable car near the border and walked our way into Gibraltar. At the border, the officer from Gibaltar stopped us.

“I’d like to see your visa into Gibraltar”, he said. We showed him our UK passports.

“I need a specific visa into Gibraltar.”

What? We hadn’t read about that at all in any of our research. Since Gibraltar was a UK territory, we assumed that our UK visas would get us in. The border police explained that for people with UK visas for more than 6 months, they could get into Gibraltar as well; but people with short-stay visas in the UK of less than 6 months (as we did) had to get a specific visa into Gibraltar.

So we were denied entry into that piece of rock in front of us! We turned back, refunded our tickets (Mench just bought postcards instead), and tried to convince ourselves that we were really here for the sleepy town of La Linea. Not very successfully, I might add. We took pictures of ourselves with the rock to remind us of our unsuccessful conquest, and told ourselves that one day in our lives, we’ll be able to step on that little piece of rock called Gibraltar. For now, walked along the (not very nice) beach of La Linea, took some more pictures, picked up some more supplies at the Carrefour supermarket in La Linea, and suddenly we had a full evening of laundry, Internet updates, and research for our stay to Morocco.

At first we were really disappointed; but then we felt better as we knew that we had another unexpected experience that would be an unforgettable part of the trip. At the most, we had lost only an afternoon of sightseeing, and we still had wonderful Morocco to look forward to. Africa, here we come!

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We felt well rested so we set off to an early start (by Spanish standards) at 10 am for a full day of Sevilla. We were blessed with wonderful sunny weather perfect for strolling around. We started our stroll to the bus stop. We did not go how to go around Sevilla so we decided to just go to the nearest bus stop. Although we could take a taxi, we wanted to save our euros. After around 15 minutes of waiting, bus number 27 finally arrived. We figured the bus’ last stop was close enough to the city center so we rode with everyone else. In Sevilla, they do not have an efficient Metro like the previous countries we visited so buses were usually full and the city had its share of traffic too as there are more cars moving around. Finally we got off at Plaza Encarnacion where we started our jaunt.

We got to find Sierpes Street, famous for its street shops, bars and the dessert place La Campana. As we walked along we noticed familiar stores – Sfera, Zara, Springfield, Bershka, among others. The areas closer to the touristy spots were easy to navigate because directions signs pointed to the different places of interest. We got to our first stop without any hitch because you really cannot miss the Cathedral and its famous Giralda Tower.

The Sevilla Cathedral is the third biggest cathedral in the world next to the St. Peter Basilica in the Vatican and St. Paul’s in London. It is the most extensive Gothic cathedral in the world and it was no wonder why because both exterior and interior designs bore very detailed Gothic designs. I was in awe when I saw how beautiful the stained glass is set against the backdrop of a golden High Altar. I also particularly liked the mirror that magnified the view of the ceiling. The Cathedral was divided into several rooms, each one bearing a different aspect of the Cathedral’s history. One showcased the church’s treasures of gold religious pieces, another was a display of paintings while one included the bones of previous bishops/cardinals. We also got to see Christopher Columbus’ tomb, set aloft a vessel carried by four statues.

Then it was time to climb the Giralda Tower, a 98 meter tower that served as the Cathedral’s belfry - and interestingly, a former Islamic minaret (along of the Koutubia minaret in Marrakesh). It was a tiring climb up but it sure was worth the effort. Views of the city from the tower are unmatched. You can view the city from all sides of the tower so you just have to pick a spot. From here you can see the amber roofs, white washed houses with occasional bursts of color – a very picturesque Andalucian scene. We also got to see other Sevillan monuments from this vantage point. We capped our Cathedral and Giralda tour with a restful stop at the Orange Tree Courtyard within the cathedral grounds.

We were told by a friend that we can find a cheap paella place near the church so we set off to look for that. We found it but it was still closed for lunch (at 12nn; they open at 1230) so we just opted to have lunch at the resto beside it because we could not wait any longer. We had so-so paella and yummy chickpea stew.

After lunch, we just went around some more and chanced upon the Murillo Gardens which had flower-bearing plants similar to what we have back home. Then we walked along the river, at Paseo de Colon, towards the Plaza de Toros. We wanted to watch a live bullfight but we were told that bullfighting season was only until August/September.

Feeling a bit tired from walking around and passing a lot of people having drinks and tapas, we decided to take a sangria break. The bar did not sell sangria by the glass so we shared a jar and a platter of the plumpest olives we’ve had so far. Feeling a bit buzzed since we were not used to drinking in midday, we were just left puzzled by how the Spanish people live day in and out like this. It probably takes a lot of practice!

Then it was off to the Estacion Prado de Sebastian to get our bus tickets to La Linea for the next day. We usually try to get bus tickets beforehand so that we won’t be too harassed during the day of the trip and it also helps us plan how to go about our schedule for the next hours. After this, we just wandered a bit more closer to the bus stop where we got off that morning, passed by take home desserts at La Campana then headed back to the hotel to get ready for our early trip to La Linea and Gibraltar. Things are getting exciting as we get closer to Morocco!

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We made it to the Estacion Sur de Autobuses (Madrid’s provincial bus station) for our 8AM trip to Sevilla. The sun was slowly rising as we made our way out of Madrid. In no time, the day was pretty hot and sunny and we were staring at the Spanish landscape as we made our 6 hour trip to Seville, in the heart of the southern Andalucia region of Spain.

The trip was pretty uneventful, and the landscape was lined with rows and rows of shrubs growing – what is it, olives? And solar panels harvesting the suns rays to turn into power. After a short stop midway at a convenience station in Cordoba, we finally found ourselves in the city of Seville.

I’m not sure what you know about Seville – but we were expecting a sleepy town with bullfighting, flamenco plus the sights that we heard about, just enough to fill a day’s worth of sightseeing. What we instead found was a medium-sized city complete with a huge suburban area, big-box stores outside of the city center, and lots of cars with the accompanying traffic. I guess this is the Sevilla the locals know – the one that the tourists do must just be a tiny slice of the city itself!

The bus dropped us off at the station in the middle of city, funnily enough at a road called “Avenida de Kansas City” (Kansas City Avenue). As lost as Dorothy, we had no idea where we were or where our hotel was, and the information desk proudly help up a sign that it offered no tourist information about Seville, and seemed to exist just to respond to every question that it offered no information about the city of Seville. Without a map or anything else to guide us, we just hopped on the nearest taxi and asked the driver to take us to the hotel.

We booked the hotel beforehand the same way we booked everything else – going on the Internet, looking through a list of hotels sorted by price, and getting the lowest one we see. It worked surprisingly well in Madrid, and in Seville we were even more surprised – for the price of a 2-star hotel, we were actually at a 4-star hotel! When we got to the room, we were really ecstatic to find a nice, large bed, TV, mini-bar (our first one so far – not that we’d use it), large cabinets, even a sofa and decent bathtub! Once we saw our good fortune, we promptly declared the day a rest day and extended our stay by an additional night. The sights would have to wait until tomorrow – we had to rest and catch up with our writings and research!

We had run out of clean clothes by this point, and even had to buy some cheap stuff from Madrid just to have something to wear on the trip to Seville. So we desperately needed a rest day to do the laundry, and figure out what to do during the latter half of the trip. Mench and I walked around the east side of Seville (Sevilla Este) trying to find a laundromat – we couldn’t find one – and doing groceries so that we could avoid eating out in restaurants to save money.

So Mench proceeded to use our wonderful bathtub as her laundry basin and washed our clothes and we ate our cheap snacks in lieu of a proper dinner, all in the comfort of our accidental 4-star hotel as we planned out the activities for the coming week ahead.

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Early part of our day was spent recovering from the partying we did the night before (which spilled over till morning ). It must have been the mix of drinks plus the fact that we didn’t have any snacks and water while drinking that gave us a crazy hang over. So the last day in Madrid moved in slow motion for us due to this.

We had lunch at the same time as everyone in Madrid did at Colbie Restaurant. I barely ate because I was still feeling a bit queasy. But I got better as soon as we walked down the shopping district of Fuencarral.

Fuencarral has a mix of well-known brands plus others that I have not seen back home. Unlike the mix of stores in Sol and Gran Via, this stretch offers more of the small format stores which gives the place a quaint neighborhood feel. Some of the stores that I liked were Fun and Basics (selling bags and accessories), Blanco (apparel, bags & accessories), Custo Barcelona (apparel in fun prints) and another one I could not remember but it was remarkable because it had a very unique go green online campaign. It also has some well-known stores like Mango, Zara, Sisley, etc. As a personal rule, I only buy from stores that are not available back home (except for something for Gabs at Zara) since these items were sort of souvenirs that reminded me too about the unique offerings of a place.

After Fuencarral, we took the Metro and headed to Museo Reina Sofia in Atocha. The museum displayed works by modern artists and included the most brilliant Spanish artists like Picasso, Dali and Miro. Here we saw Picasso’s most celebrated work, The Guernica. It also showed pre-work drawings that Picasso did leading to his masterpiece. We specifically liked surrealism as best depicted in Dali’s works. The museum defined surrealism as anything that goes against rational thought. We enjoyed our time at the Reina Sofia because a lot of the art are familiar to us and there is just something about the crazy genius of the modern artists that appeals to us.

Then we headed to Sol to look for the churros place that our friend, Mons, recommended. We found Chocolateria de San Gines in one of the streets near Puerta del Sol. It must be really popular since the place was packed when we got there. Customers spilled over in its alfresco area enjoying just one thing, churros con chocolate (they seem to only sell just that). The churros were the best I have tasted so no wonder the crowd trooped despite it being located in a small esquinita.

We did a bit more shopping along Sol where we tried, but to no avail, to find a nice Madrid photo frame. We ended up buying a magnet that I can just attach to a generic frame. Oh well.

Next stop for us was flamenco. Since it was our last night in Madrid, we had to watch flamenco. I read from the Luxe Guide about a highly-recommended place called Casa Patas. We saw this place while wandering around during our first night in Madrid but were not sure if they really had flamenco because the place looked like a traditional Spanish resto. So we tried looking for it again. It took some time and we started toying with the idea of traveling all the way to Las Tablas which is a bit far from where we were staying. Finally we found it just in time to have dinner then watch the show.

At Casa Patas, we had the best meal so far. I had the specialty of the house, ox tripe and Gabs had sirloin. The meats had a melt-in-your-mouth quality, definitely very sinful. Then we were ushered to the back of the resto for the flamenco show.

The show featured two dancers and a group of musicians composed of a boom box boy, a male singer, a female singer (who was also a flamenco dancer) plus two guitarists. I was particularly drawn to the very expressive hand movements of the dancers and the quick movements of their feet. We were also curious about the rapport between the musicians and the dancers because they make you think that they are making up their moves and music as they go along the way, exuding an air of spontaneity. Gabby also particularly liked the male singer and his powerful voice. Flamenco is such a powerful performance, both dance and music that you can’t help but feel alive during a show. It is so inspiring to watch such a passionate performance that I am tinkering with the thought of enrolling in a class back home!

After the show, we headed back to our hotel and prepared for another day of traveling the next day. So we say adios to Madrid and hola Andalucia!

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We were quickly adjusting to the pace of the Madrileno day. We woke up at around 10am, and gradually made our way to brunch the Burger King near our first stop for the day, Museo del Prado. Mench wanted authentic Spanish food for our brunch, but my stomach was just telling me to get food, any food, and finally I won out. Mench was hungry too, and didn’t put up much of a fight.

The Museo del Prado is one of Spain’s most important museums and houses the country’s most important pieces of artwork up to the 19^th century. It houses paintings by the famous painters Francisco de Goya as well as Raphael, Murillo, El Greco, Caravaggio, Rembrandt, and many more. Unfortunately, photos weren’t allowed in the museum, so we have to rely on souvenirs and memory to serve as a recollection of the Prado Museum.

From the Prado, we made our way to the Retiro Park, which was right beside it. The Retiro is a huge park with beautiful landscapes and jogging paths, and is also a major tourist attraction in itself. Of course, after taking pictures we just had to have ice cream before leaving the park.

We then did our typical wandering about the city streets and checked out a few more of the sights to see on our list: Real Palazia, the famous Opera house, and then Plaza Mayor where we had our tapas at around 6pm. The weather in Madrid was great – it was a bit cold but not too much, where you could easily enjoy being outside in the streets.

After our tapas, we walked off our food again and wandered around the city a bit more. We also checked out the bus station and bought tickets for our trip to Sevilla on Thursday, so we wouldn’t have to worry about it. At a little past 9PM, we met up with Mons, a friend of our friend Ysa who is currently living in Madrid.

Now, Madrid isn’t really that famous for its sights – but it is very well known for a few things: its paella rice dish, bullfighting, flamenco, and its legendary nightlife. We had already tried paella the day before, and now Mons was about to show us something about the nightlife.

The Madrid noches (evening) starts at around 9 or 10PM – this is usually dinner accompanied by light drinking (read: beer or sangria). So this is how we started, just casually exchanging stories, eating our dinner and drinking a bit until midnight. At around midnight, the bars start to come alive – and it’s time for some serious partying!

Mons led us to the Monnalisa bar near Calle de las Huertas – and if the name of the bar rings a bell to you, it’s because the Mona Lisa (2 copies, yes, fake, and even larger than the original! And you can touch it, too.) is featured prominently at the bar. Now it was time for more serious drinks: rum coke, shots of whatever the bartender served up, and harder partying. The bars in Madrid usually offer you a free drink to lure you inside, so after a short while we left and entered another bar, where the bounty was free shots for the three of us. The evening started getting more interesting – pictures with random partying Spaniards, being talked up by friendly bargoers, more drinks, and writing on their graffiti wall – and more drinks! All this time, we were being treated to what seems like a random selection of bar music – 80s, 90s dance and R&B, to modern pop and Spanish songs randomly thrown one after another. The evening was getting crazier by the minute, and we learned during the party hours in Madrid, they don’t drink water or eat food (pica-pica); they just consume all the alcohol they can. And if they’re hungry, they wait for the restaurants serving breakfast to open at 8am! All three of us were starting to get really tipsy through the night.

After a good amount of alcohol, we decided to pack up and go home at around 4AM as the bar was closing. As we were walking down the street towards home, Mons suddenly suggested that we check out the bar that was still open. We tried to resist, but it was futile – so it was more of the same at yet another bar, dancing, posing for pictures with random Spaniards, and plenty more drinking! We were really in a daze as this bar opened its lights at 5:30AM to close down, and we hazily walked to our hotel which was 10 minutes away.

And that is how we really got to know the Madrileno way of life, ending at close to 6AM.

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As Gabby mentioned in the previous post, we had to take a train to Irun (border of Spain and France) to get to Madrid. We arrived at around 7:30am in Irun, had a quick breakfast of chorizo sandwich and chocolate croissant and boarded the Renfe train to Madrid at 8:15am.

We noticed that the Spanish trains were way nicer than the one we took from Paris. For instance, the toilet in the Paris train had no flush system so everything that people did in the toilet went straight to the tracks (that’s why the train station had a weird smell!). On the other hand, the train to Madrid had toilets similar to that of an airplane. Also, the Spanish trains are newer and cleaner. They have wider leg rooms and reclinable seats. I just happened to once again get a window seat without much of a view because of a panel right by our window.

After 6 hours, that’s now a total of 14 hours traveling by train, we finally made it to Madrid! We immediately asked the tourist information officer how to get to our hotel and headed to get metro tickets.The Madrid metro system was also way nicer than that of Paris. It was well-maintained, had newer trains and easier to figure out. We got a ten-ticket pass from the ticketing machine and headed to the hotel.

Our hotel was booked by Gabby online. What we usually do is sort search by pricing and then look at some of the reviews. We were a bit anxious since this is the cheapest hotel we booked so far (45euros for a double room). But we were pleasantly surprised that the hotel was just a five-minute walk to the Metro and is close to the city center (and the shopping district!). We had a big bed, a big bathroom and tv with cable. It was the best hotel we’ve had so far. By the way, name of the hotel is Hostal Ballesta.

After freshening up a bit we headed out to have our first taste of paella. We noticed that the restos were just opening up for the afternoon (this was already around 430pm). At the resto we picked, we were the only ones having paella and everyone else was already drinking and having tapas.

After paella, we just decided to wander around the area. From Gran Via, the artery closest to our hotel, we headed to Puerta del Sol where the international shops are. It seemed that everyone was at Sol at around 6pm because the place was just really packed. People were shopping, watching street artists perform or just hanging out in the many terrazas (alfresco seating areas) in the area. Others were just rushing towards the nearby Metro.

As we wandered around we got to Plaza Sta. Ana where we had our first Madrid Sangria and Cerveza. This was already close to 9pm but people were still not having dinner. We explored the nearby areas and passed Calle Huertas and other streets in the nearby district. We noticed that the area was a bit quiet and dark, not like what I read about Huertas as being a happening place. But when we went back an hour later, the place was already alive with activity- people were finally having dinner and still drinking some more. So we decided to join in by having some tapas at a nice bar along Calle de Barcelona near Huertas.

As we were headed home close to midnight, more people were still getting into the bars as if the night was just starting. Then we realized that this is the Madrileno way of life- relax, chill, linger and party till wee hours of the morning!

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Our flight to Madrid was via the RyanAir budget airline, operating out of Beauvais Airport – small town around 45 minutes from Paris. Learning from our experience in London, we woke up earlier this time, setting our alarm from 3AM and scheduling a taxi to pick us up at our hotel at 4:30AM to the Beauvais shuttle point. We got to Beauvais without any incident and got down from the bus to a very cold, foggy morning.

Before the end of our Paris trip, I was telling Mench, “The easy part of our trip is over. Now, the real adventure begins.” Little did I know that we would get that adventure before even getting out of Paris!

The plane was a bit late, so we proceeded to write about our previous days on the trip while waiting for the boarding call. After 20 minutes of waiting, the announcement came up that the plane was circling around the airport as it couldn’t land due to the fog. A collective sigh of annoyance came from the crowd.

After fifteen more minutes, another announcement came up on the loudspeakers, first in French then in Spanish. We could hear the crowd gasping and commotion starting to build. In the cacophony of French and Spanish we heard over the loudspeakers that our flight to Madrid had been cancelled because our planes couldn’t land at all. Crap!

We quickly fell in line to get our baggage back and process our refunds. There was real mayhem in the airport, with English, Spanish and French conversations flying all over the place, trying to figure out how to go to Madrid. We figured out that the best way would be to catch a train – but like almost everyone there, we were in the middle of nowhere in an obscure airport town and had no idea when or where the trains would be!

Mench and I started texting our contacts to help us figure out how we could get to Madrid. I texted my sister and our French friend in Manila, Vincent while Mench told our friend in Madrid that we were going to be late – just how late exactly, we still had no idea. We had exhausted Paris and Paris had exhausted us, and we couldn’t wait to get to the next part of our trip.

Fortunately, RyanAir offered a free shuttle service back to our pickup point in Paris. We made our way to Olivier’s apartment in Les Halles to regroup and figure out what to do next. With my sister’s text messages and Olivier’s help, we found out from that the SNCF (France’s national rail network) train from Paris to Madrid was leaving at 7:45 later that evening, and that it would take 14 hours to get to Madrid.

We thanked Olivier for his help and quickly made our way to the Gare de Lyon station to buy tickets at the SNCF (the French national rail line) ticket booth. At the ticket booth, we were informed that all seats on the 7:45PM train to Madrid had already been filled up. Oh no! Thoughts of having to stay another night (or maybe more) filled our heads, while we had already reserved and was paying for our hotel in Madrid.

We asked the ticket attendant if we had any more options to Madrid. After searching on the computer, she found a train that would take us to Irun, on the border for France and Spain leaving at 11PM. It would arrive at Irun at 7:30AM, and we could transfer to another train on Spain’s Renfe rail line to Madrid, arriving there at 2PM. Finally, we found a way!

Then the ticket attendant told us that she would put us on a sleeper train to Irun, and that the entire trip would cost us 295 Euro (roughly P20,000 for a 14 hour journey; our budget flight which was refunded would have cost us 60 Euro and 2 hours). We swallowed hard, gritted our teeth, handed over our credit card, and bought our second-most expensive journey of our entire trip (after our long haul plane to Lodon). At least, we would be on our way to Madrid that evening!

We made our way to Gare de Austerlitz station 10 minutes away where our train was leaving and left our large bags in lockers. With 5 hours to spare and no more energy to go around Paris, we helped ourselves to a yummy mid-afternoon dessert meal of crème brulee and vanilla apple pie to perk us up. Afterwards, we found an Internet café where we could update the website and get in touch with our family back home.

As the departure time neared, we went back to Gare de Austerlitz and waited for our train to arrive. At least, we told ourserlves, we would be on a sleeper coach – the privacy of our own room with beds where we could comfortably enjoy our overnight ride to Irun.

We got one assumption right – there would be a room with beds. When we got on the trains, we found out that our expectations were way off – we would be in a tiny room with six bunks laid out over 3 levels, and we would be sharing the sleeper coach with 4 other people. My mind zoomed back to 1999 when my family took a similar train from Paris to Rome – but then it was our entire family in one coach. Now, during our honeymoon, we’d have to bunk in with 4 total strangers. So that’s what 100 Euro each can buy you on a train!

I was feeling mildly depressed and slightly claustrophobic at this point, but our backpacker sensibilities quickly asserted themselves in us. We climbed up to the beds on the top deck, hauled our bags up, and slept as comfortably as we can as the train silently crept its way from Paris to the border of Spain.

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