The weekend: soccer, friends & soccer, friends
Saturday morning we slept in a bit and started getting a bit organized. Not only are we suffering from jet lag, but our stomachs are as well. No one is hungry in the morning. Around noon we walked around to find a cheap place to eat, but the neighborhood resembles a bit of a war zone on Saturday mornings, with most businesses shuttered, most people recovering at home, and the streets littered with the evidence of the previous night's debauchery.
Socorratt was open, and it has already become our go-to standby. More paella. Yum. Markus had his first soccer game in the afternoon so he needed some sustenance. From there Andreas walked home and Markus and I walked to the tailor to pick up the pants that were being hemmed; we got there just before closing at 2pm. Very nice people. €24 for 3 pairs.
Markus and I then picked up our Respiro car and headed out to Alcobendas for his game. We arrived promptly at 3pm and we were the first ones there. Markus found his teammates and I went off to get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria. The soccer facliities are a bit in the middle of nowhere, and I am going to have to figure out a way to get to/from by public transportation at some point because the Respiro costs are piling up (€2/hour is cheap, but €0.26/km adds up when traveling long distances). The upside of the place is that they have a pool, and tennis facilities, and a gym, a vast improvement over what we have in NYC. I'm hoping to set up Andreas with some tennis there at the same time Markus has soccer. I'm also going to try to find a way for the bus to drop them off nearby after school on Mon & Wed so I don't have to drive so much on these days.
As I was leaving the cafeteria, Markus and the team were approaching. I asked him where they were going and he said he had no idea; he was just following everyone. I laughed, but this is great. Being dropped into another culture and another language means if you don't go with the flow, if you don't learn to be willing to make mistakes, you will be miserable. I think this is critical for the boys.
That being said, I saw two fathers waiting near me at the cafeteria and I went up to introduce myself. They couldn't have been less pleasant. They were like two truck drivers who only wanted to talk to other truck drivers, they couldn't get away from me fast enough. I don't even know if they were from our team. Jerks.
The game went very well. Markus started the first half and played top center. The team, I'm not even sure of the name of the team I am so clueless and uninformed, seemed to be a bit weaker than the competing team (if I don't know the name of my own team I certainly don't know the name of the competition). At the half, all of the players from our team were swapped out, and our team dominated. I'm not sure if they are in the same age group, or are the "A" team, or whatever, but the level was much stronger.
When we left the game to drive home some asshole parked so close to me I had to climb over the stick from the passenger's side. Yes Dorothy, there are assholes in Madrid.
Ana called me to say they wanted to see our apartment, so soon after we got back from the game Ana and Murat and Mateo stopped by to tour our place. We left the kids at home and went around next door to Mercado de San Anton to have some tapas, which were really good. Great place to have a bite to eat and a glass of Albariño. I'm not that discerning about wine but I will sound much more impressive if next time I go if I ask for Albariño. I'm going to have to write that down and put it in my pocket.
We picked up the kids and Ana recommended we try Bocaito (Calle Libertad, 6), just a few minutes away. The boys had "Huevos fritos o rotos con jamón y patatas cerilla", which is really just a big pile of fries with an egg and some ham on top, ideal for teenaged boys.
We adults had yummy olives and some sort of fish (sepia?) filled with ink. This is definitely not a dish to order with a date. We had black ink coating our tongue and lips. Restaurant was great, highly recommended, old school.
Sunday morning Markus had a very early soccer match, another friendly. We left the house at 08.15am and there was nothing on the streets at all. Everything was shuttered. We again took Respiro (do they have a frequent driver program?) to the game. Markus didn't play in the first half.
The second half Markus came out and again played top center. He played fantastic and scored three goals. What is a high-five given on the side? A side-five? He got side fives from players on his own team, and even once from the ref.
Mateo was playing in another friendly nearby, so we drove over to see him play and to meet Ana and Murat. Then we drove home and spent the afternoon getting ready for school the next day. The boys had some work to do. We are three Sagittarians, and we are notorious for putting things off to the last minute. I work much better with a deadline. As I believe my boys do as well. Read a book and write a report on it over the summer. Of course the night before school starts we are finishing it up.
That evening we walked to an Indian restaurant to meet Ana and Murat and Mateo to celebrate Mateo's birthday. Swagat (Calle de Núñez de Balboa, 29) was about 20 minutes away walking and the boys moaned about the walk most of the way. The Uber generation! Food was really great, especially the chicken tikka masala, we ended up ordering three of those because the boys were inhaling it. Somehow I ate a pepper in the lentils dish and it was explosively hot! I started crying, and sneezing, and all sorts of things not becoming in a nice restaurant. I begged for yoghurt to cool my mouth which was delivered without any urgency. I'm sure staff at Indian restaurants enjoy watching westerners chomp down unsuspectingly on hot peppers.
Ana baked a cake, and we celebrated Mateo's birthday by embarassing him with a loud rendition of Happy Birthday.
Another great day in Madrid. School starts tomorrow! Boys have to be up at 06.30am!