Post #23: Spain: Madrid
I’m starting to write this post on my final morning in Spain, from my balcony in Mallorca with an outrageously beautiful view.
So traveling during a pandemic is tricky, particularly right as countries start to ease restrictions. Some EU countries still don’t allow non-essential travel, others have vaccination and/or Covid testing requirements, and others have basically nothing. Spain was my perfect entry point to Europe for several reasons. It was a good place to start from a geographical standpoint, it only required that US travelers fill out some online declaration of health, and a direct flight from JFK was only $240. Besides, I’d never been to Madrid and it was on my list anyway.
Madrid
Before going to Madrid, I consulted a friend who seems to have been in nearly every country in the world, and he told me that Madrid was “boring AF”. I respectfully disagree.
My delightful neighbor from the DR hooked me up with a friend of hers that helped me narrow down where I should stay in Madrid. I’d originally planned to stay in Salamanca, but she convinced me that while it was the fancy area of town, it wasn’t very lively. She told me to stay in her neighborhood, Barrio de las Letras. It’s a hip area, home to a bunch of artists with plenty of restaurants and nightlife. I got a pretty sweet duplex on Airbnb.
My flight there was kinda a mess. In addition to severe turbulence, the airline made me wait in the impossibly long check-in line to verify my health disclosure. It was the same line to check baggage, even though I had already checked in and wasn’t checking bags. Whatever, I’ll chalk that up to first-world problems. Besides, I had just eaten an awesome meal at arguably the best steakhouse in the USA, and I was about to embark on a month long EuroTrip.
I was only to be in Madrid for 3 days, and it’s a pretty major city, so I was off and running as soon as I landed. I picked up a SIM card, checked into my apartment, and then headed to a gourmet food market for lunch and wine. I couldn’t go too hard on the drinking because I had a 3hr bike tour scheduled shortly after. The market was pretty awesome and had a number of stalls selling various types of tapas and booze.
When walking around town it’s hard not to realize how much fitter the people are than in NY. The women mostly wear dresses, and I didn’t see a single one with baggy mom-jeans with cargo pockets (inside joke). It’s not the most PC of comments, but I tend to appreciate many aspects of traditional gender norms, even if it means that I have to pay for drinks.
I dig these bike tours because I get to experience a lot of a city, it’s good exercise and you can meet new people, which is important when traveling solo. We got to see all of the sights, visit the beautiful Retiro Park (their equivalent of Central Park)…etc.
By the end of the 3hrs of biking, I was completely wiped and needed a nap, because I had a pub crawl scheduled for that evening, and I would need my energy. The pub crawl was with a bunch of people at a hostel. I’ve always been tempted to stay at a hostel because it seems extremely social and fun, but alas, I am entirely too spoiled.
We all got pretty drunk, and had a good time. As is common for me, girls tried to get me to dance, but I resisted due to being Jewish and lacking rhythm. After a few too many drinks, I relented and they got to see my lack of skills on the dance floor, at which point they realized that it was a lost cause.
Currency Conversion Fiasco
So I wrote this section of the post whilst drowning my proverbial sorrows at the bar in the Four Seasons Madrid.
Mind you, while the following experience was anything but fun, I’m kinda amused how silly it is. If you aren’t the type to sweat the small stuff, you will think that I’m crazy for the amount of time and effort that I put into exchanging currency. If I was traveling with a girl, she would almost certainly leave me before this episode was over. Then again, I can sometimes act irrationally when principal is involved. It’s one of my *few* flaws.
Today, my final full day in Madrid, I woke up hung-over and it has been raining and gloomy all day. Not exactly the best way to end this leg of the trip, but whatever. I booked my lodging in Mallorca, and my Airbnb host needed me to pay some fees in Euros. I had tried to convert some dollars to Euros at my local bank before my trip, but apparently only the bank branch that’s a few miles from my apartment offers that service. By that point I’d already loaned Bella (my car) to a friend that has poor pedal skills, so I figured that I’d just convert my cash when I got to Spain.
When traveling abroad, the pro move is to pay with a credit card with no international transaction fees, that accumulates points. I do that for the vast majority of transactions, but a small minority of transactions require cash, like paying my Airbnb host to pick me up from the airport. Per Google’s currency converter, $100 is roughly equivalent to 84.5 Euros. I know that the currency shops need to wet their beaks a bit, so I’m okay with losing a small amount on the conversion. I think that I’d be okay with any rate greater than 80 Euros. I visited a few such shops and their rates were brutal, ranging from 70-76 Euros for $100. Highway robbery, right?
I consulted various travel blogs and it seems that I’m not the only person to be dissatisfied by the ‘haircut’ you take when exchanging currency in Madrid. It seems that it is recommended to just use your US ATM card, and take out a lump sum of cash at a local ATM. You get charged fees by the local bank and your bank, but you still get more bang for your buck than at currency exchange places.
I first tried an ATM at a major local bank. I attempted to withdraw 500 Euros ($591 equivalent) and they wanted to charge me more than $650, not including the $5 and 3% that my bank would charge me for the transaction. Strike one. Next I tried a local no-name ATM. Their fees were even more outlandish, wanting $811 dollars for 600 euros (equivalent to $710). Strike 2. I decided to go back to the first ATM, and I attempted to withdraw the cash and be billed in euros so that I can avoid their below-market exchange rate. Lo and behold, my card was declined for unknown reasons. I was on the phone with my bank for around an hour trying to resolve the issue, trying various ATMs, without success. Strike three.
I decided to finally bite the bullet and go to the currency exchange place offering the best rate of 76 euros for $100. Walking into that place felt like total submission, and I’m not the submissive type. Tail between my legs, I walked up to the counter and approached the mistress behind the glass, fully prepared to be financially dominated. She may as well have been clad in a full leather and spiky dominatrix suit. I meekly asked for her to be so kind as to give me a paltry sum of euros for my dollars. She gave me what I perceived to be a coy smile, and asked for my passport. I don’t find it wise to be walking around with my passport, so I keep a picture of it on my phone, so I asked the mistress if an image of my passport would be sufficient. She raised her eyebrow, knowing that her subject was no match for her, cracked her whip, and sent me packing. Strike 4.
I am totally dejected and feel like the character from American History X after the infamous shower scene. I still have no euros to pay my Airbnb host tomorrow. Then again, I find myself grinning like a fool, realizing how stupid this whole thing is. Note to self: next time I should get euros before I leave the US.
Random Pics
Final Reflections
Contrary to RK’s beliefs, Madrid is not boring AF. It’s a major metropolitan city with a vibrant social scene, major industry and a generally cool vibe. I wouldn’t be opposed to living here if New York continues to transform into a toilet.
Off to Mallorca!