(Madrid to Cordoba, Spain) Picasso and My Booty Molestation

I felt like I was getting stale. I had been in Barcelona for almost two weeks and I didn't feel like I was doing much. Who ever said "Ain't no party like a west coast party" has apparently never been to Espana. These guys/girls get started partying when our bars back in the states close. Many of my flatmates, usually don't get home until 8am. I needed to see Barcelona. I needed to get out.

I figured if no one else was going to go, I'd fly solo. I started in La Pedrera and then went to Sagrada Familia. If you've never been to Barcelona and never heard of Antonio Gaudi, please look up pictures of these buildings. This guy was an absolute genius and the level of attention to artistic detail he put into his work is incompressible. Apparently as a child he had some sort of sickness that prevented him from going to school at an early age. His mom, to entertain him, would take him for long walks in the forest and parks. He gain such an appreciation for nature, plants, and animals that he incorporated their figures into his work.

La Pedrera by Gaudi




When I was leaving Sagrada Familia, the idea popped into my head to go to Madrid. The last train was at 9pm and I had plenty of time since I had already purchased a Global Eurail Pass for all of Europe. Arriving to the train station at 8:45 didn't seem like a bad idea, I swear! Yeah they wouldn't let me on. Between my five Spanish vocabulary words and hand gestures, I found out that I needed to have reserved ahead of time. So I ended up having to take the local (Low Speed) train that took 9 hours instead of 2.5 horus.


The Sagrada Famila by Gaudi





By the time I got to Madrid at 7:30am, I was so tired from trying to sleep folded up like a pretzel in non-reclining seats. Two espressos later, I hit Madrid starting first at the Prado museum. The Prado taught me something important: paintings of old white people really don't do it for me. I can't see what makes Rembrant a masterpiece and the other guy not so much. The Riena Sofia, Madrid's contemporary art museum, was the polar opposite. I found myself surrounded by Pablo Picassos, Salavdor Dalis, Joan Miros. I spent hours in there and came back the next day.

While walking home, I dipped into this big market place. The building it's in was designed by Effiel (same guy who designed the tower) and there were hundreds of people walking in every direction all around me. As I was walking through I felt this gentle rub on my right butt cheek. Now lets pause for a little perspective: When you're as blessed as I am with this figure that can only be described as…..well….divine, you get used to the occasional pinchy poo. But there was something strange. I turned around and saw this woman (around 25yrs old) directly behind me pull her hand back from my butt. She had the field of vision slightly covered with a brochure that she had folded open. As soon as I turned, a guy that was with her cut in front of her and they both turned off into a street vendors booth. All of this happened in a span of maybe 3 seconds. It took me a few moment to figure it out: That woman just tried to PICKPOCKET ME!!! Imagine this: Mike Mallah…..Jordanian Citizen…..without my greencard…..the shit is not good! Thankfully….she didn't get anything. I'm very very grateful (and I owe it all to my cat like reflexes!)

After calming down and returning home, I was setting up for dinner with the four people (2 from the UK, 1 from Peru, and 1 from the US) that took me in Madrid. The American, Heather, who owned the place had found some newborn, 2 or 3 day old sparrows that got separated from their parents and she was trying to nurse them. While showing them to me, we noticed that one of the little guys had broken his leg. It’s a funny thing really, when you go to medical school like we do, people expect you to know things. Since, I was the closest thing to doctor she asked me what to do. I was thinking how the F should I know? I've never treated a bird before (or a human). I figured that we should try to splint it so we used a tooth pick and some medical tape to create a bird-leg-splint.





Unfortunately, today we found out the little tyke didn't make it. In my capacity as a Trauma Surgeon, I've officially lost my first patient. Don't worry I'm talking with those closest to me and I'm trying to work through it. This is the life we chose! I make jokes but it really does suck.

Anyway, so I checked out the Royal Palace where Franco the former dictator of Espana did his oppressive business and now I'm on a train headed to Seville. I'm kind of a jackass b/c it's midnight and I have no idea where I'm staying in Seville as of now. The journey continues….and hopefully I wont be homeless.

NEXT DAY UPDATE: I walked around last night in Cordoba with my backpack for two hours. All the hotels were like 80 Euros...wtf? No wifi, no phone, no access to anything. Finally, I just started walking through really narrow back alleys and I ran up on a "Backpackers Hostel". I went in at about 2am and rang the bell waking the guy up. After introducing himself as ALI (which I then asked if he pronouced it like this 3li in the arabic) I found out he was Jordanian. We spoke in Arabic and he started lowering the price and telling me not to worry about paying at the moment. Oh Arab hospitality, there's really nothing like it. He seems like a really nice guy and he gave me a private room that was honestly cleaner than hotels in the States. Check out the Bagdad Backpackers Hostel if you're ever in Cordoba. Peace!