Giving Madrid a second chance

My first trip to Madrid wasn't necessarily unpleasant...just not ideal. To start, I was there with my teachers. I mean, they were pretty cool teachers, but a school trip just ain't as wild and free. We were there for the first three days of our 17-day Spain-wide vacation.

I got to see many of the touristy sites:

-Parque del Buen Retiro
-Museo del Prado
-Palacio Real
-etc.

Really, I only missed one thing I was excited to see: Guernica. We were on our way to see it in the Museo Reina Sofia. We took the metro, as we had many times. It was tightly packed, so a relief to get off. It was on our walk from the metro stop to the museum that I realized I didn't have my passport. In fact, I didn't have my debit card, license, or the 100 euros I had just taken out of the bank. I burst into tears immediately.

A relevant aside: Before going on this trip, I had purchased one of those beige strap-on pocket things to carry my cash and passport under my clothes. After all, our teachers had done a good job warning us of the European pick-pocket. Unfortunately, those pocket things are downright uncomfortable, and after only a couple days' use, I just threw it in my purse to use as a sort of wallet. My big mistake was putting both hands up to hold on in the metro car, subsequently leaving the mouth of my purse open and vulnerable. Everything was in a perfectly convenient and accessible beige pouch.

The rest of my stay in Madrid consisted of a panicky phone call to my parents, a visit to a police station,  a trip to the U.S. embassy in Madrid (that could have been worse), and a train ride with one of the teachers to catch up with the others, as they had moved onto the next city.

Like I said, not an ideal trip to Madrid. Since then, however, I've lived in a slightly smaller city for 4 years and traveled to other big cities. This time, I was going to enter Madrid with a new, more suspicious, albeit less intimidated, mindset.

And it was delightful. I wasn't robbed, and I didn't do anything touristy. Well, I guess I should say I didn't pay to do anything touristy. (I did take pictures and go to the Plaza Mayor and Puerta del Sol.) We spent most of our time with friends from Pamplona and a friend living in Madrid, going to dive bars that played rock music and eating fried calamari sandwiches (way better than it sounds!). Instead of seeing the awful, crowded, and dangerous side of Madrid, I was seeing the bohemian artsy scene -- a welcome change!

I have no awesome story for this picture. It is what it is. A bunch of locks.

Sitting outside of a bar in a neighborhood called Lavapies.

We stumbled upon a place that sold mainly American snacks, candy, and soda. Really weird.

Taken during our afternoon sit in the Plaza del Dos de Mayo, after some terrible Spanish pizza.

I had been avoiding any kind of ethnic or non-Spanish food in Spain, because it's never very good.
But in Madrid, we tried our luck at a Japanese restaurant, and it was delicious. Great miso soup!

After hearing us poo-poo on Spanish beer, the friend we were staying with recommended this place
called El Pedal (literally, The Pedal). They specialized in bike culture and craft beer (sound
familiar?). I got to sample a Cataluñan imperial ale, which was quite contrary to my original
impression of Spanish beer. Then again, Cataluña ain't Spain.

I guess you just can't write off a place because you got robbed there. After all, it was my guiri-ness (guiri is Spanish slang for tourist) that provoked the incident in the first place.

Have y'all ever conquered the fear of returning to a place, only to find out it ain't so bad?

Cycling in Pamplona (aka I'm never satisfied)

While I've only been here for 10 weeks, I jumped back on the bike pretty quickly. Within a week of our arrival, Elliot and I had purchased some wheels. A few days later, I was rolling all over this town to parts near and far to meet and teach students. Currently, my weekly commute is approximately 57 kilometers (35 miles-ish). So, I think I have a good idea of what biking in Pamplona is like -- at the very least, I have a better idea than most people I know here (most of whom walk rather than ride). And I gotta say, Europe may have the better rep as far as competitive/recreational cycling goes, but I would take Philly commuting any day.

A view of Pamplona from about 6 km out (little less than 4 miles).

I should clarify something first: Pamplona, like many cities (big and small) throughout Europe, has a very tangible cycling infrastructure. At first glance, the system looks way better than anything you've seen in the US, mainly because of the abundance of bike paths. They often run alongside the sidewalk (like many in Philly); sometimes the white lines are painted on the sidewalks (which are extra wide to accommodate pedestrians and cyclists. And they really are everywhere! And people really use them! There are even traffic lights specifically for cyclists -- lights that tell you when it's okay to cross the intersection and when it's not. There are also often short barriers between the bike paths on asphalt and the part of the street used by cars, mainly to keep drivers from driving or parking in the bike lanes. I'll say it again: Pamplona's cycling infrastructure is very visible, well-used, and widespread.

I just can't like it. As much as I scorned the haphazard system in Philly, I miss it. Although some find this to be a major fault, there wasn't really a distinct line between where bikes should go and where they shouldn't. I endured so much public shaming for riding on the sidewalk, against traffic, in the bike lane, beside the bike lane, in the grass, in front of a car, behind a car, beside a car, etc. I learned to ignore anyone in a car, and just ride as safely as I could, with a helmet securely over my skull. This usually meant taking a full lane because cars always gave me a lot of room, even when they were attempting to throw something at me.

Secret bike path that a student's mom told me about -- it's secret because I didn't know about it.

Here, however, it is very clear where bikes should be. And riders follow the rules. Probably because if you roll off the bike path, you're riding with European drivers -- who can be a little intimidating. Plus, we Americans ain't so used to roundabouts. Every street is like the Ben Franklin parkway, and every intersection like Logan Square. So riders stick to the paths, because they're well-marked and car-free. Not me, though. Following a roundabout on the pavement may be a little stressful, but following it on the sidewalk is down-right frustrating. A lot of waiting, rolling up and down handicap curbs, dodging wandering pedestrians, and more waiting. Can't take it, don't want it, won't have it. I'll follow the cars.

Sometimes, though, riding on the sidewalk ain't so bad. On longer stretches of road that leave the city, very few pedestrians can be found walking on the paths. Plus, the traffic picks up a little bit so it does feel better off to the side. But just like they heavily regulate cycling traffic, the Spaniards also like to keep the walkers in line. So there are hip-high barriers that border the lengths of sidewalk where pedestrians shouldn't cross. This makes hopping off the asphalt that much harder. And on top of that, the asphalt doesn't gradually taper off on the sides, creating a gutter for water run-off. Instead, there's a shallow but pretty sudden drop on either side of the roads (Philly: think "trolley tracks"). 

To make a long story short, Pamplona wants you to stay in one line or the other. You can't be a part of pedestrian traffic, and also vehicle traffic. Unfortunately, I think this is what most major US cities dream of when it comes to reforming cycling regulations. But I got wheels! I want riding to be smooth and efficient (i.e. not on the sidewalk). I miss the cycling limbo in Philly.

And the weirdest thing is that I'm often the only person I see in the street. Sure, I see other riders. But they're rollin' along on the paths, and I'm huffin' and puffin' to keep up with traffic (and probably because I stayed in siesta-mode a little too long before class). Why do they settle for the safer albeit slower route? Am I just another impatient American?

I have to cross this bridge once a week to get to the other side of some railroad tracks,
where my student lives. I hate the bridge but I enjoy the student, so I suppose it's worth it.

Part of me thinks that there aren't as many distance commuters as you might find in Philly. Riders in Philly use bikes for a variety of different reasons, but a major perk is commuting power. Here, most people work a few blocks from home; and if they don't, they drive or catch the bus. Furthermore, you're guaranteed to find any commercial necessities (groceries, apparel, pharmaceuticals, etc.) within a few steps of your door. Most of the people I know here are more likely to have a car they use more than their bike. Populations are very concentrated, so you're never very far from where you need to go. Thus, Spaniards don't expect much of their city's cycling infrastructure.

Then again, Pamplona must have really coughed up some dough to build the infrastructure they have now. Why not a better one? Or, am I really just another impatient American?

Transmitimos de Pamplona a los Estados Unidos

Broadcasting from Pamplona, Spain to the United States...

We've arrived. Oh, have we ever!

Finishing up our first week in a foreign land, I have these major updates:

1. We have a place to live! We've been staying with Elliot's roommates (circa 2008) in an apartment in a neighborhood called Ensanche, off of the main drag Carlos III Avenue. Although they are great guys -- very welcoming and funny -- we are branching out. We came here to live Spanish lives, and that we will once we move into an apartment with our new friend via the interweb, Victor! He lives on the very top floor of an old five-story building divided into 10 apartments or so; and it is situated almost exactly in the center of the city -- right in front of City Hall. The rent for our room is cheap, Victor is muy majo (very cool) and he's got a puppy named Punset!

Our approximate view of el ayuntamiento (City Hall) from the front door
of the apartment building via viajeteca.com

2. We have contact with our first student! A couple days ago, Elliot and I taped flyers onto various poles, abandoned storefronts, and bulletin boards to advertise our English-teaching services. We had our first bite last night when a guy emailed us looking for more information. Elliot and he are currently attempting to arrange a first consultation. How exciting! Besides this, Elliot has been earning euros on the street as a professional minstrel, playing tunes by Neil Young, Bobby D, and Steve Miller Band.

A scan of our flyer for English teaching -- yeah I wish I had a photo of Elliot busking, too. 

3. We have bicicletas! Having a bicycle really opens the world up, especially when you're new to a city. I learned every nook and cranny of Philadelphia via bici and I intend to do the same in Pamplona. Elliot scored a vintage steel road bike equipped with Shimano 105, and I invested in an aluminum-frame hybrid with fenders, a rack, and a dynamo front hub. The guys who own the store are two basque brothers; they were very friendly, and just kept giving us discounts as we bought more things. Makes me miss working in a bike store.

Elliot's sweet ride leaning up against the clothes-drying rack. Take note of the sweet colors.

La bici mía -- still tryna name her, let me know if you think of a good one.

4. Elliot and I are still in love! Even after the stress of not living in our own space for the past 4 months, traveling nearly 24 hours straight, having practically zero friends in the city to which we moved, and spending more money than we've made, we've stuck it out. We aren't the kind to shout from the mountaintops, but this was a big step in both our lives and our relationship and I think it serves to say that we're good at being together.


Now for some not-so-important updates, but still fun-to-hear-about facts...

The best thing I've eaten thus far: 
I will divide this category into two sub-topics -- sweet and savory. The best sweet dish I've had, and will continue to seek out, was what the Spanish call a bomba. It is basically two halves of a bun, sprinkled in powdered sugar, with a rich, delectable, whipped cream stuffed between them. Fuckin' outta this world bomba! Goes great with beer.

Better than donuts for sure via amarenas.blogspot.com

The best savory dish I've had was a pintxo -- most of Spain would consider this kind of dish a tapa, but the basque country calls them pintxos -- an appetizer-like plate that usually contains a baguette slice topped with cheese, ham, calimari, egg, salad, etc. A few days ago I tried a pintxo with pancetta (Spanish bacon) and melted brie cheese. Also goes great with beer.

Un bar de pintxos via visitalltheworld.com

The worst thing I've eaten thus far:
Plain and simple -- Spain's version of delivery pizza blows. Elliot and I happened to stop by a Telepizza on a Tuesday night (when they have half-off specials) and even then it was barely worth it for a medium four-cheese pie.

The good news is they're hiring -- so Telepizza is plan B.

How Elliot and I have been passing the time:
We usually have a lot of down time before and after the siesta, which occurs from about 2 to 5 pm. Before the siesta, we probably make some breakfast, hang up some flyers, go for a walk, or watch a little Spanish cable TV. And after the siesta, I'll try my hand at being a writer-for-pay (i.e. writing and submitting drafts to various travel websites) while Elliot busks on a busy street for a couple hours. Keep in mind, this is not how all Spaniards live. Right now, we are just bums trying to find work. But I must say that the siesta allows for much relaxation, as most businesses close their doors during that time of day.

The most embarrassing thing I've done:
The other day I was shopping around for a few things, including a charger for rechargeable batteries. The background for this search involves my camera that requires AA batteries, and me not wanting to buy and throw away batteries all the time. So, I enter an electronics store, looking for this cargador (charger). I notice that they are behind the register, so I explain to the cashier what I need.

"Busco un cagador para pilas."

Translation: I'm looking for a shitter for batteries.

You see, I meant cargador but instead I said cagador so I got a weird look before I corrected myself and proceeded to buy the charger (which was way cheaper than the first place I stopped, so it was still a positive interaction for me).

Something I'm still getting used to:
The double cheek kiss! You've seen it in movies I'm sure. And I usually know it's coming. But some people don't do it upon first meeting, for whatever reason. So when I shake someone's hand, I lean in slightly, awkwardly, and wait until they do the same. And even if they do, I am still surprised. I hope I'm not giving anyone a bad impression. It's just something I'm not good at.

Non-human things I miss:
Along with ginger ale, hamburgers, my (other) bikes, and carrying around more bills than coins, I also miss a little puppy named Pedro! Not to say my parents' other dog Amos or my cat Abby don't matter as much, but I'm constantly reminded of Pedro. What with his latin-influenced name and his likeness to the donkey in the Shrek movies (which I've been watching -- in Spanish).

Like Pedro, the donkey has a long body, floppy ears, and just loves too much.

To remind you readers, I'm hoping to use this blog as both a travel journal, and as a log for loved ones to keep track of our expedition. While I hope to update with posts about differences between Spain and the US, comments concerning the European crisis, or discoveries as an English teacher abroad, I also welcome friends and family to use this blog as a venue for your own questions about the Pamplona, Spain, the trip, our experiences, whatever. Even though I'd love to sit down and Skype with every one of you, our busy lives may not allow us that chance. So ask away!

A case against bike lanes

First of all, hear me out.

Rather than use this post to complain about motorists, I'd like to instead form an organized argument against bike lanes -- both the infrastructure and the philosophy behind it. I want a dialogue, not a rant.

I bring this topic up for a few reasons...

Critical Mass - October 2009

1. Relevance: I ride a bike on Philly streets nearly every day, and have for the past 3 years.
2. Frustration: Recent run-ins with disgruntled and irrational drivers has made me raw.
3. Timeliness: City Hall plans to implement new lanes on 10th & 13th streets.

Bike lanes have a pretty good rap. They're often used as an indicator of the bike-friendliness of a city. And for good reason I suppose.

At the very least, it demonstrates that the city recognizes a cycling community. Furthermore, their presence acknowledges bicycles as machines that belong on the asphalt.

For the rider, bike lanes feel pretty good. They tend to be car-free, which makes a rider feel safer.

But there always seems to be a catch.

Sure, we're permitted to ride on the road. In fact, by law we're permitted to take a full lane for ourselves. But the bike lanes imply that we should only ride between the white lines. Thus, some drivers take it upon themselves to enforce this implication by yelling at riders outside the bike lane. In cases where there aren't any bike lanes painted on the road, the rider is still expected to stay far to the right, pinned between moving traffic and parked cars with unpredictable doors.

These lanes also make bicyclists invisible. Why else would drivers make so many right turns, or pull into the bike lane with their 4-ways on, despite the looming two-wheeler in their side mirrors?

It's as if the left edge of the bike lane represents an invisible shield through which drivers cannot see. And the moment we choose to move to the left to avoid a stalled bus, glass, or the occasional door, we suddenly appear within the driver's visual field. And they either honk or sideswipe us. Some states have implemented a law that requires motorists to give cyclists at least three feet of space between them while passing. In other words, we're forcing cars to notice us to avoid this shit.

The ultimate catch is what they expect from cyclists in exchange for these precious accomodations (bike racks, lanes, etc.). Earlier this spring, Philadelphia Police Department launched their "Give Respect - Get Respect" campaign for motorists, cyclists, and pedestrians.

While I agree with some of their sentiments (don't ride on the sidewalks, wear a helmet, don't use a cell phone while riding), I do not agree with the ticketing of cyclists for these "transgressions." For two main reasons.

1. Charging a $54 fine for something like riding on the sidewalk could significantly deter some riders from using a bicycle at all. The city has failed to consider why someone might ride on the sidewalk (i.e. the slowest way to get anywhere). This population consists of mostly inexperienced riders, as well as delivery guys. Both are probably terrified of being hit by a car. Why? Because cars can be fuckin' aggro as shit.

 2. The underlying message of this campaign is that if the city gives us (bikers) room to move around, we should return the favor by following their laws. The laws that were written and designed with cars in mind. Fuck that. I avoid certain activities like chatting on the phone, riding without a helmet, and riding on the sidewalk because they are unsafe, not because I respect Philadelphia government.

The city would like to think that they've done a lot for cyclists: transforming old parking meters into shitty bike racks, painting bike lanes that disappear for the winter under piles of snow, and taking pictures of the mayor wearing a helmet.

But most of the time, we're either pushed aside or lumped in with cars. And we're not cars.

Tour de Bronx - October 2010

I guess what I'm trying to say is bike lanes do not equal respect. The cycling community has exploded in Philadelphia over the last five years, and yet our laws have remained the same. Sure, the city has added new laws, but they have yet to alter those that were problematic in the first place.

Futhermore, "respect" from the city does not equal respect from its drivers. They're still going to honk and yell any time a rider tries to take the lane.

Respect will be achieved once the city acknowledges that the entire transportation infrastructure must be changed if they really want to accommodate cyclists completely. What this infrastructure change involves, I don't know exactly. But bike lanes don't really mean shit.

So for now I'm going to keep cruising, using my eyes, ears, and helmet to keep me safe.