Vamos a ver

The events that transpired Monday night, my first night with the other people in my program, were absolutely absurd. They also led to the change of the name of my blog, thus proving that I made this thing prematurely. "Vamos a ver" was what we said regarding any decisions we made last night. Also, sorry for not taking any pictures. I know somebody did, but I forgot my camera. So, with that in mind, here we go.

Since I'm only 20, this was the first time i've ever gone bar hopping. I really wanted it to turn out like this, but with copious amounts of alcohol:

Well, it didn't. So there.

As we were walking around on a Monday night looking for bars that seemed decent, we kept asking each other, "what bar are we going to?" "We going clubbing later?" "Where are we going?" "Is this a good idea?" "This is kinda sketchy." "Where are we right now?" Each time, the best answer came in the from of the little phrase "Vamos a ver." It was true, we realistically didn't have a great idea of what we were doing, and we didn't know what we were going to do. So, we'll see.

First bar, a little place called Tex Mex. Of course, the first bar I ever go to, which happens to be in a different country, is an American-themed bar. I know, Aaron Handsman, it must've been perfect. And it sort of was, with flat screens playing a mixture of partidos de futbol y futbol americano and a giant poster commemorating the battle of Iwo-Jima. But it was more than that. It was the bartender that pretty much knew English even though we refused to speak it to him. It was the banners hung around the place that advertised nightly beer pong and that ability to make a reservation at the bar to watch the Super Bowl (HELL YES). It was the fact that, while everyone in my group ordered Sangrias, I got the pint of Guinness. While everyone else ordered Tequila shots, I got the jaeger shot.

Second bar, it was also a food place and I don't remember what it was called simply because it had a long name. This was essentially our pit stop. This place's deal was that one could get a very large (probably a pint) of Mahou (I thought it was the equivalent to Miller Lite) for 1 euro so long as you purchased a 1 euro snack, otherwise the very large (probably a pint) of Mahou (Miller Lite) would be 2 euros. Essentially, why buy just beer when you  can get food as well for the same price?

Third Bar, La carboneria. At this point, we've walked to here, but we had walked south a bit near the Cathedral for the second bar. and the first bar was more south. So essentially, we've walked quite a bit already, and we don't know exactly where we are. La carboneria we found after walking through some alleys and asking some random people where it was (A kid in our group knew about the bar from another friend). When we finally got there, the entrance looked like a church. Like, it looked solemn and quiet inside. REALLY solemn and quiet. But we walk in anyways, noticing immediately that this place probably was at one point a church, and that the entire interior is made of stone. The first area has wooden tables and a piano, and the actual bar was in a different room. We walk in, and promptly order their special: a pitcher of agua de sevilla. God knows what was in this. It was a strong mixed-drink and then it had whipped creme on top which we mixed into it. It was the sweetest and yet the most disgusting mixed drink I've ever had.

After some drinks, we go back to the first room to see a group of Spaniards taking turns playing guitar while a crazy viejo (old man) sings in a passable falsetto with a distinguishable vibrato. He looks like this, but older and has more grey hair

A woman and a couple other guys join him, while others clap their hands, and the rest of the people in the bar listen intently. We thought this was seriously the coolest thing to ever happen in the history of the world and were totally entranced for literally an hour at least. I was too, until one of the guitar players decided to play We No Speak Americano, and it just went downhill from there. The bar closed at like 2, then we all crowded around the Spaniards and thanked them and talked about how talented they were. The viejo started shamelessly flirting with a girl in our group and then proceeded to invite us somewhere (he didn't tell us at the time) that was "very close." We thought it was a terrific idea, so we threw caution to the wind, said "vamos a ver," and followed him and his musical friends for awhile, until we ended up at a bar called "Berlin" that was probably half a mile north-west of La carboneria, and consequently even FURTHER from our hotel.

By the time we got to Berlin, we were all sober for the most part, this wasn't funny or cute anymore, and the old guy was just being plain creepy. Take a conversation between him and a girl in our group: "How old are you? 25?" "No... 19 (a lie)" "My daughter!!"

So after a few minutes we left. Oh wait, we had zero idea how to get back to the hotel. 3 miles and 35ish minutes later, however, we get back safe and sound. It is 3:30am. Not a bad Monday night.

I recommend to you King Fantastic - Basshead (King Fantastic remix). check it out.