By Ben Beach (Beneath ~ Shady ~ Devastated)
It was raining the first time he saw the city, which was unusual for September in Madrid. When he emerged from the tunnels that housed the Metro system, spreading like an asymmetrical web beneath the streets and buildings, puddles were forming on the sidewalks and little rivers ran down the edge of the street. Having entered the Metro system in the airport and then transferred trains twice to arrive there, the top steps of the stop called Banco de España would forever represent for him the entryway into both the antique city and a whole new world.
By the time he had dropped his bags at the hostel, the brief shower had passed, so he walked past the Prado Museum and into Retiro Park, finding it as expansive and beautiful as he had imagined. Shady paths wound their way through towering trees, interspersed with rose gardens and bubbling fountains. At the edge of the little man-made lake in the center of the park, he bought a bottle of water and a bag of potato chips and sat down to take it all in.
Maybe I’ve got this all wrong, he thought to himself, as he watched couples row lazy circles in the tiny lake. Maybe a month here will not be enough, after all. His mother would be devastated if he were to stay for the whole year, but of course she had been shocked to tears when she learned he would travel out of the country at all. You’ve got to make your own decisions, he reminded himself, thinking it would be easier to break the news this time, since he was already away.
The sun was just beginning to set as he picked up his jacket and started back to the hostel. Tomorrow he would have to find a more permanent place to live, and to do that, he would need to buy a cell phone. If he planned to stay longer than a month, he would need to find a job, too. Teaching English, most likely. But all those things could wait, he thought. Tonight, I have a new city to explore. A city just beginning to awaken to the evening. A city that already felt like home.
It was raining the first time he saw the city, which was unusual for September in Madrid. When he emerged from the tunnels that housed the Metro system, spreading like an asymmetrical web beneath the streets and buildings, puddles were forming on the sidewalks and little rivers ran down the edge of the street. Having entered the Metro system in the airport and then transferred trains twice to arrive there, the top steps of the stop called Banco de España would forever represent for him the entryway into both the antique city and a whole new world.
By the time he had dropped his bags at the hostel, the brief shower had passed, so he walked past the Prado Museum and into Retiro Park, finding it as expansive and beautiful as he had imagined. Shady paths wound their way through towering trees, interspersed with rose gardens and bubbling fountains. At the edge of the little man-made lake in the center of the park, he bought a bottle of water and a bag of potato chips and sat down to take it all in.
Maybe I’ve got this all wrong, he thought to himself, as he watched couples row lazy circles in the tiny lake. Maybe a month here will not be enough, after all. His mother would be devastated if he were to stay for the whole year, but of course she had been shocked to tears when she learned he would travel out of the country at all. You’ve got to make your own decisions, he reminded himself, thinking it would be easier to break the news this time, since he was already away.
The sun was just beginning to set as he picked up his jacket and started back to the hostel. Tomorrow he would have to find a more permanent place to live, and to do that, he would need to buy a cell phone. If he planned to stay longer than a month, he would need to find a job, too. Teaching English, most likely. But all those things could wait, he thought. Tonight, I have a new city to explore. A city just beginning to awaken to the evening. A city that already felt like home.