June 26, 2015
Day 15: Guggenheiming
Last day in Spain. So sad. And I can't believe I am saying this but I'm starting to pick up the lingo. Oh, I'm not saying I could discuss world events or talk about my feelings in in more detail than "I am good" or "I am not good." But I find I can get my point across now, in Spanish, and sometimes even understand the response.
In fact one time I even acted as translator!
"....she said that the electricity is out so she did not serve lunch but it is fixed now and she will be cooking dinner," I said. Then thinking to myself, did I just say that?
I was very pleased with myself if you want the truth, and I know you can handle the truth with this fine publication.
But back to the topic at hand. It's my last day in Spain and I spent it at the Goggenheim museum and eating tapas, or as they say in Basque Spain "Pinchos" though I probably spelled that wrong.
Either way it was a nice day. The museum had some weird stuff but I kind liked it, well most of it anyway, it was kind of different. At least different than "traditional" art museums which I can't take too much of.
But as weird as the exhibits were the photo policy was even weirder. No photos, unless you are on a "photo spot" which is this green dot on the floor. And I found out that you have to almost be standing on that spot because I got my chops busted more than once for trying to get a better angle on what I was shooting.
"It says photo spot here," I said to one of the photo spot "enforcers".
"No, the photo spot is there," he said, sternly, pointing 10 feet away.
"This is a very confusing system," I said. Then added, "it must be a nightmare for you to say 'no photos here' all day."
He softened with that. "Yes, we are trying a new system this week. I'm not sure it's working."
"I don't think it is," I said.
The museum is as much about the building architecture as the artwork, which is good because some of the exhibits were that of vacumn cleaners. I wasn't as impressed with those. Maybe that's why there are few photos allowed? If people knew they were going to see vacum cleaners they might not go see for themselves?
But really, I like the museum in spite of all that.
After that I wondered around town and ended up in old town with the most tapas restaurants in one place than I have seen all trip. Really good ones, I sampled a lot.
After that I headed back to the room to finish packing my bike for tomorrow's flight. I didn't mention the bike box fiasco yesterday did I?
Well, see, Leo was nice enough to look a bike shop in town for me that said they would give me a bike box. But I am a terrible friend for abusing his kindness because I forgot that yesterday was Saturday and, in Spain, the world shuts down at 1:00pm or so and doesn't open up until Monday.
I kind of panicked really. How the hell was I gunna get a bike box! So I walked around fretting and swearing at myself and kicking myself in the ass (figuratively). I was really mad at myself because if I hadn't dilly dallied I could have made it to the bike shop with time to spare.
But after a while of telling myself I am an idiot I settled down and said to myself, "okay, things usually work out, this will be no different, I will figure something out."
So I walked around looking for cardboard to make a box, and so on, for a while, and then saw a department type store with manikins with running clothes in the window. On a hunch I went in and asked "tiene bici's?", or "do you have bikes?"
"Second floor," the salesmen said.
So I went down praying that someone assembled a bike today and they hadn't crushed the box yet.
And there it was, a brand new mountain bike box sitting in the middle of the floor. I was SO happy!
"I need this box" I said in Spanish. And pantomimed that I needed to pack my bike for a flight.
The lady was more than happy to give it to me and I walked back to the hotel as if it was the holy grail.
Tomorrow I head for London and a rendezvous with Leo and Steph.
Until then...
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