4 Days in Madrid: Part 3

March 12th: The morning was quiet similar to the day before, quiet rough. My legs still ached from the day before, not as bad but still quiet sore but sure there was no point complaining when no one was listening. Rumours were going around that the plan for the day was to cycle around the Parque de Retiro, which is a 118 hectare park, thats a solid 200 acres and more. With the state my legs were in I had to try my best to persuade my lecturer to do that at another time or I physically won't make it. 
Only four people showed up for the activities of the day (I assume banging hangovers). So we decided to go and visit the Mercado de San Miguel. An indoor market that sells fish, coffees, has a couple bars and different types of pastry counters. The market had indoor infrared heaters which somehow brought out a sunburn I didn't realise I had. I walked into the market a pale man and walked out the same colour as Patrick from Spongebob. With a little while left before we had to meet our lecturer again, the other three and myself went for a coffee down a side street. 
On the hour, we met the lecturer who had the brilliant idea to test our Spanish in the Tourist information office close by in the Plaza Mayor. The Plaza Mayor

was swarmed with people. Street vendors and people in costume dotted across the courtyard. A wedding was also happening next door to the tourist office. I was wearing blue shorts at the time and was wondering how the groom and groomsmen wore black suits, but forgot that March for Spaniards, is still winter and I managed to get burned, just my luck. We went into the tourist info office where I was directed to this poor guy who had the same look on his face that I did "Is this conversation necessary?". He wouldn't let me leave without asking a question in Spanish (I guess hostility brings out the inner Spanish or something). So, being a tourist and all, I asked "Donde estas las fiestas?" (Where are the parties?). He laughed and went on a rant about the best places to party, some of it I picked out, the rest of the conversation I was just amazed at how fast he was speaking. When he stopped I just nodded, thanked him and shuffled away uncomfortably. 
Considering there was only 4 of us, the lecturer gave us the rest of the day off as there wasn't enough people to do anything. I just thought she wanted to get rid of us to go day drinking, which was my plan. As a group, it was decided we'd go for lunch in Chuecha, the gay district of Madrid. We took the metro and came out at a lovely quaint part of town. Now when the Chuecha district was mentioned, you'd assume to see gay couples everywhere and be a stereotype but it was completely the opposite. People going about their business, having lunch and gay, straight and lesbian couples intermingling. Strolling slowly

through the streets, we came across this little restaurant and realised we were actually still hungry. It was 2pm so I ordered paella and a glass of wine (It was 5 O'Clock somewhere). The food was lovely and the atmosphere of the restaurant was kind of authentic and quaint. After the meal, the girls of the group wanted to browse at some stores, coming up the Gran Vía again. We walked into a Primark (The biggest European Primark) It was about 5 floors of clothes and other items. Like it's own department store. I had to send a picture to my sister, cause that woman should just live in Primark, she practically pays their wages. 
Tired after the feed, I left the group and walked back and took a nap in the empty hostel room for a couple of hours. It came to 8pm and I was invited out to a restaurant next door by three different classmates. A little Mexican place next door was where we dined. We ordered nachos and chimichangas (I watched Deadpool not long before and couldn't resist). The food was actually amazing, I recommend guacamole and chimichangas (My own homemade guacamole is awful however). 
After dinner we were invited to a Flamenco show by our lecturer, which seemed like an awesome idea to see real Spanish dancing. When we entered the club, we were given a free glass of Sangria (I was thoroughly impressed. I drank it like a Capri-Sun though. Another emotional moment) and the dancing started. At first, it was a show of passion and emotion. The emotions soon

turned to fear as the male dancer, with mop like hair, whenever he shook his head, a cloud of sweat drenched the front row. I felt so sorry for my lecturer, she looked absolutely disgusted, being the main recipient. The show was an hour long, and besides the clouds of sweat, the show was amazing and I strongly recommend it. 
After the show, we all went back to the hostel to chill out. A classmate and myself went to the terrace to drink whiskey and chill out. She climbed the stairs so many times she had deja vu of the Metro. Two American backpackers from Oklahoma came through the door, just off a train from Paris. Telling us their story of InterRailing through Europe, just finished college. One of them got robbed and found it funny (Whatever boats your goat). An hour passed and I decided an early night sounded better than a night out and the whiskey from earlier kinda turned my stomach from bad experience (Long story!)
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Stay Tuned for Part 4, the last part of this Madrid story!