Blog

I made it to the Kabul hostel by about 4pm this afternoon — only to find the hostel staff hopelessly knee-deep in some sort of paperwork (how much paperwork can a hostel have?), and a queue of about 30 people waiting to check-in before me. Bloody Spanish: they really are an inefficient bunch, aren't they? Anyway, at least they're inefficient with a smile. I grabbed a sandwich for lunch, and played a game of pool in the hostel lounge, while I waited to check-in — which I was eventually able to do, about an hour later. My introductory first night in Barcelona wasn't a massive one, but it was good relaxed fun nonetheless.

Kabul is — like Cat's in Madrid — well-known for being one of the best hostels in Barcelona. And as such — also like Cat's — I took no chances, and booked my stay at this hostel well in advance. Kabul may have a rather unfortunate name, but otherwise it's a super-duper place. The bar and lounge / eating area, which takes up the entire first floor of the hostel, is its beating heart: it's packed with a ripper of a crowd every single evening (and buzzing during the day as well); it's filled with extra little attractions such as a pool and a fussball table; and it's where you can take advantage of most of the hostel's numerous freebies, such as the meals and the Internet. If you're able to book ahead for your stay in Barcelona, then take my word: don't even consider staying anywhere else, 'coz it don't get better than Kabul.

The New Year has well and truly arrived, and it's now time to say goodbye to Madrid. Today I took a big but worthwhile splurge, and travelled on the special high-speed Alvia train service from Madrid to Barcelona. The trains are extremely popular, here in Spain: I purchased my Alvia ticket three days ago (as soon as I arrived in Madrid); and even then, they were already sold out of economy-class tickets, and I had to settle for business-class instead. Additionally, I've now used up my Eurail pass — and it didn't cover Spain anyway — so I had to pay for the ticket outright, and at full cost. But still, I enjoyed a fast, pleasant, and bloody luxurious ride today.

This evening, down in the basement bar of Cat's, I ended up sitting down and sharing a few beers with two Moroccan guys, who are immigrants living and working here in Madrid. I've observed (and even met) recent immigrants almost everywhere I've been in Europe: in particular, I've encountered numerous economically impoverished immigrants from North Africa, from the Middle East, and from Eastern Europe. Many, although not all of them, are here illegally. Tonight was the first time I've really sat down with some of the immigrants themselves, and had an in-depth chat about their situation. Few people around here are prepared to admit it, or to objectively discuss it: but this is an enormous issue for Europe, and in my opinion it's one that they're dealing with in an appalling manner at the moment.

Like Madrid itself, we were feeling extremely lazy and tranquilo today: so after our paella lunch, Miguel, Emmanuelle, the Aussie Indian girl (Shomare) and myself cruised over to one of the city's many cinema complexes. We decided to see American Gangster, a new Ridley Scott film starring Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe. Very well-produced movie, although quite violent and a little disturbing. The film was dubbed: and although I've by now seen plenty of Spanish-dubbed movies, the "Spanish Spanish" took quite a while to get used to (all that lisping and rapid-fire talking, it hurts my poor Peruano ears). Miguel obviously had no problem with the dubbing; but Emmanuelle and Shomare didn't understand much of what was happening. They just came along for the ride.

My first proper meal for 2008 was about as Spanish as it gets: paella! The classic dish paella is best described as an "everything you can fit in the pan" stir-fry: it generally consists at least of rice, egg, vegetables, numerous seafoods (e.g. prawns, oyster, lobster — sorry G-d), and chicken. For a very late lunch today (late by normal standards, although on-time by Spanish standards), Miguel, Emmanuelle, an Aussie Indian girl and myself found a great-value restaurant: 3 courses (paella was entrée) and wine, for just €8. Filled us up, woke us up, and tasted tip-top.

After a few drinks at Cat's — and something else at Cat's, that was rather less pleasant — a big group of us went down to Plaza del Sol, Madrid's central square, to welcome in a Happy New Year ("Feliz Año Nuevo") madrileño-style. Emmanuelle, her Dutch friend, Miguel, Dan, Matt, Kenny and myself headed to the plaza together — although almost the entire hostel went there at some point; not to mention almost all of Madrid at large. It was mad, it was flamboyant, and it was without doubt the most jam-packed crowd I've ever been in. But it was certainly unique. And because this is Spain, midnight was just the beginning.

I have no complaints about my time here at the Cat's hostel in Madrid. It's been a great experience: that is, except for one very unpleasant incident this evening. It was New Year's Eve, and we were all down in the Cat's bar, having a few beverages as you do (but not that many). An American girl sitting upstairs asked me to heat up a donut that she'd bought: she said that we weren't supposed to go behind the bar and use the microwave; but I was in a jolly festive mood, so I said: "here, give me the donut, and I'll heat it up behind the bar — it's not like anyone's going to care." Boy, was I wrong — clearly, the hostel staff had no interest whatsoever in joining in on the New Year's spirit. In almost a year of travelling, I've managed to never once pi$$ off a hostel's management: and never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that heating up a donut without permission would get me in more hostel-bound trouble than almost anything else on this trip.

Miguel is a white-skinned, gringo-looking bloke from Cuidad Juarez — that most infamous of north Mexican cities — which lies on the border with Texas. Miguel speaks perfect English, and he's been living and working in the Netherlands for the past few years. He's another one of the many great people who's staying here in Madrid, at Cat's, to celebrate the New Year: this evening, he partied well into the morning, and didn't go home until the sun was up.

I can't say I've met many New Caledonians on this trip. In fact, Emmanuelle is the first; and probably the last, too. Emmanuelle is a beautiful girl from this tropical French-colony island, that lies roughly 1,200km east of Australia's Queensland coast, and about which I know very little. Her mother currently lives in Melbourne, and she's lived in various places in Australia for several years of her life. At the moment, she's living and working in Brussels, Belgium. She's staying here at Cat's for the New Year, and this evening she partied with the best of us.