I have been a bit sporadic in my documentation of Madrid, here are some of the missed bits.
When Steven and Elaine first arrived, they phoned to tell us they were catching the metro to Opera, so we headed there and chose a cafe right at the metro exit for breakfast. It's just gone 11am. Our croissants and coffee had just arrived when Karl starts shrieking. He had learnt it from Matisse. Steven and Elaine put down their bags, get out their phone and Karl's phone starts ringing. Elaine is telling him, to tell us to meet them at the pub she has just spotted so we can all have a beer. She is literally pointing at us. Instead, we yell out like bogans. They come running across the plaza in slow motion, it's all very dramatic; kind of like that old Pauls Iced Coffee advert, but with the beer instead of the iced coffee. Elaine is so excited at the coincidence of us being in the EXACT same bar she spotted, "oh my god, great minds think alike..." Then she looks at the table and realises, maybe, just on slightly different tangents.
Our final meal together was bitter sweet. The food was good, but what it symbolised was devastating. We went crazy ordering up a storm of delicious tapas. The waiter was so helpful suggesting we order the prawns dish of the day, it was good, but good enough to be twice the price of anything else in the menu...? Damn you sneaky "dish of the day." I did a double take and clarified the price with the waiter. Yes sir, I am becoming Spanish.
The best bit of the meal was when the beer arrived. I busted Elaine, actually kissing the glass and saying "I love you cerveza." She didn't think anyone was watching. In all fairness, she had just politely endured a 2 or 3 hour tour of a football stadium, her favourite.
We headed through Plaza Mayor for the third to last time and I finally got these blurry paparazzi photos of fat Spider-man and his statue. I also noticed him abusing some other tourists later that day. All this just consolidated the fact that Batman is the best, and I am really glad this moron didn't defame him instead.
One lazy afternoon, strolling past the football stadium, we passed all these parked cars who had been dumped on with junk mail. I must say, I've never seen windscreen promotions for prostitutes before.
The night Steven and Elaine left, there was more crying in the street. First when I was off buying train tickets and I realised the time was 6:05. They were meant to have left at 6pm! I started running back to the apartment. I wiped my eyes as I ran past fat Spider-Man. I didn't want him to see me vulnerable. It turns out Karl had guilted them into staying to see me off. He secretly didn't give a shit and was hoping they would miss their plane. After pushing it really thin, they hit the streets, heading to the wrong metro in hope of seeing me on the way. Thankfully we met halfway, and in time to catch the right metro. We bid them farewell at the top of the stairs and a few more salty tears escaped. I have seriously become a massive wuss.
The apartment was lonely and soulless without them. We couldn't stand it another minute, so we left for Seville the following morning. Breakfast was rushed, so we settled on this shitty looking franchise bar on the corner, one that we had passed several times each day. What an oversight. It was decked out beautifully, the food was amazing, and the total breakfast bill was €4. The theme music was another highlight; Phil Collins, dirty dancing.... To think of the missed karaoke opportunities.... This was a package deal that cured me from the depression of Steven and Elaine leaving.