Madrid Day 3: Botin

Yes, I have made my triumphant return to the States. Over the next couple days, I'm going to finish writing about my trip, both for everyone reading, as well as my own memories. So...

The next day I got up a bit late, since we were out until 3:30 or 4 getting churros the night before. I lounged about for a while, and then eventually met up with the guys I had gone out with the night before. We had discussed tryingto get reservations at Restaurante Botin, which is the Guinness Book of World Records holder for oldest restaurant in the world. We attempted to call over to get a reservation, but could not figure out how to use the pay phones at the hostel. Making phone calls in Europe is very confusing. We eventually decided to just go over for lunch, and hopefully be able to get a table. (Since it is a famous restaurant, we figured it would be very difficult to get in.)

We walked over and arrived just as they were opening, and were able to get a seat right away. We were seated in the wine cellar, which was lovely. It was niceand quiet down there and very charming.

I had done some reading online ahead of time, and decided to get all the dishes that they are known for (what a tourist!) I was not disappointed. We shared a pitcher of sangria, which was far and away the best I've ever had. And it was cheap too (about 10€ for the pitcher). Then I had the gazpacho, followed by the roast suckling pig, which is what they are most famous for. I ended the meal with the flan. Everything was to die for. The gazpacho was rich and creamy and had so many complex flavors. And the pig was simply amazing... crisp, crunchy skin and unbelievably moist and tender on the inside. And don't get me started on the flan.

I was pretty much in a food coma afterwards, but somehow I managed to exit the restaurant and do some window shopping for a while. I spent some time in the afternoon trying to find an internet cafe where I could upload the photos from my camera. I was very paranoid it would be stolen or break somehow and I would lose all my photos from my trip. I was unsuccessful yet again, and so I gave up and went back to the hostel. I found Astrid hanging out with some Irish guys, and sat with them for a while. They regaled us with their tales of drunken antics from the night before. Apparently they were also the hostel guests who had returned from the football match with vuvuzelas that made me want to strangle someone.

Eventually they left, and Astrid and I decided to go find a bar and grab some drinks. We wandered around near the hostel for a bit and finally found this cool bar that seemed to be only locals. The place was really sweet, and the drinks were strong. We hung out there for a while and talked, then walked back to the hostel in the rain.