Hello All,
Sorry I don't update my blog nearly as much as you or I would both like to! I've been very busy with a variety of activities and tomorrow we head out to Andalucia. Andalucia's practically a desert but there's a 100% chance of rain for the next three days, go figure, but that's an entirely different post.
Anyways, Friday could be considered my true introduction into the Madrid nightlife. On Thursday my friends and I were planning on going dancing, but we were all worn out so we decided to take it easy and just do tapas. I had a great time, but I was definitely itching to get out. Friday night I had my chance. We first started by hanging out at the apartment of several students in my program. Their Señora was gone, so we figured it would be cool if we chilled there for a while. At 1:15 AM we decided it was about time to head to El Kapital, Spain’s most famed discoteca (nightclub). We hopped into a Taxi with a Kenyan who lived his whole life in Madrid. Random taxi ride; all I understood is that he was excited Obama is now President.
After our taxi to downtown, we hopped in line with a variety of other folks. We weren’t “on the list”, so the “non-list” line is a bit longer. However, it was still moving quickly so I didn’t wait long. We get in the door and pay the cover charge. I think it was 15€ for the ladies but I think I got charged 20€, you’ll see why in a sec. We walked in to a nice little lobby and the girls checked their coats. Then I was ready to see if this club was all it was cracked up to be.
El Kapital is a theater in addition to a club. The main dance floor has a stage (in which no band was playing, but rather some Chippendale-esque dancers found their groove). The ceiling was 5 stories tall and on the sides all the way up were private VIP rooms, like theater boxes, overlooking the floor. In the back, each consecutive story had a different theme (hip hop, latin, pop, lounge) and were sealed off from the main room by walls of clear plexiglass. Pretty much in every direction you could find music to dance to and have a good time. At 1:30, the party was just starting, so things were hopping.
When you dance for hours on end you tend to get really hot. Instead of trying to air-condition the whole building (most buildings in Spain don’t have central AC), every 5 minutes or so a MASSIVE blast of chilled CO2 would be blown in from the ceiling in one gigantic pillar of cloud! It was a really cool idea and it was nice to get a blast of cool air while dancing the night away.
Additionally, I would consider myself lucky to have such a fun group of people to go out with. Since 35 out of 40 people in our group are girls, whenever we all go out, all of us guys look like total studs. All the Spanish guys were extremely jealous because, as I looked around, I saw that the dance club was over 95% men. Yes, that’s correct. Let’s just say, if you’re a desperate Spanish guy, you’ll have better luck getting a dance at a nunnery than at a club in Madrid! I spent a lot of my time “rescuing” my friends from creepy drunk guys. It was pretty funny; if some guy came up and danced with one of my friends and she enjoyed the partner, all was good. But as soon as I got “the look” I’d grab her arm and pull her over to me as though she was “taken.” I’m sure tha
t to some of these Spanish crazies I looked like a true player, but really I was just making sure we were all having a good, safe time!
At 4:30AM, several friends and I decided that 3 hours of dancing to heart-pumping music was more than our euro’s worth and decided to hail a taxi home. The taxi home was quite a humorous experience. One of my friends was slightly inebriated and in “desperate” need of a hamburger. It’s odd because though everyone parties ‘til the morning light in Madrid, there’s absolutely NO place like Sonic, Whataburger, or Taco Cabana to pig out at when you’re in caloric deprivation after dancing. Our oddball taxi driver pulled over on a side street and told us to hop out and see the lady “over there” for a good Peruvian sandwich. We couldn’t find this sandwich lady at all so we gave up. Ends up, the sandwich lady is illegal, so she runs around the block with a bag of homemade sandwiches and sells them to whoever can catch her. Yeah right, like I’m going to buy a sandwich out of a random plastic bag at 4:45 AM from a Peruvian lady in Madrid!!! Way funny. So, we got back in the car and headed home, disappointed in the taxi driver’s choice of post-party food.
After getting home, I was desperate for a shower, there’s no way I can sleep smelling like an ashtray. I showered and went to bed. Concha finally woke me up at 3 PM, afraid I had died or something since she didn’t hear me come in! All in all, it was a very fun cultural experience, but I don’t exactly think I can maintain the clubbing lifestyle. Madrid young adults are famous for being able to party all night, come home and shower, chug an espresso, and head back to work! No way in the world I could pull that off!
Well, good night, and I’ll update you from Andalucia!
After our taxi to downtown, we hopped in line with a variety of other folks. We weren’t “on the list”, so the “non-list” line is a bit longer. However, it was still moving quickly so I didn’t wait long. We get in the door and pay the cover charge. I think it was 15€ for the ladies but I think I got charged 20€, you’ll see why in a sec. We walked in to a nice little lobby and the girls checked their coats. Then I was ready to see if this club was all it was cracked up to be.
El Kapital is a theater in addition to a club. The main dance floor has a stage (in which no band was playing, but rather some Chippendale-esque dancers found their groove). The ceiling was 5 stories tall and on the sides all the way up were private VIP rooms, like theater boxes, overlooking the floor. In the back, each consecutive story had a different theme (hip hop, latin, pop, lounge) and were sealed off from the main room by walls of clear plexiglass. Pretty much in every direction you could find music to dance to and have a good time. At 1:30, the party was just starting, so things were hopping.
When you dance for hours on end you tend to get really hot. Instead of trying to air-condition the whole building (most buildings in Spain don’t have central AC), every 5 minutes or so a MASSIVE blast of chilled CO2 would be blown in from the ceiling in one gigantic pillar of cloud! It was a really cool idea and it was nice to get a blast of cool air while dancing the night away.
Additionally, I would consider myself lucky to have such a fun group of people to go out with. Since 35 out of 40 people in our group are girls, whenever we all go out, all of us guys look like total studs. All the Spanish guys were extremely jealous because, as I looked around, I saw that the dance club was over 95% men. Yes, that’s correct. Let’s just say, if you’re a desperate Spanish guy, you’ll have better luck getting a dance at a nunnery than at a club in Madrid! I spent a lot of my time “rescuing” my friends from creepy drunk guys. It was pretty funny; if some guy came up and danced with one of my friends and she enjoyed the partner, all was good. But as soon as I got “the look” I’d grab her arm and pull her over to me as though she was “taken.” I’m sure tha
t to some of these Spanish crazies I looked like a true player, but really I was just making sure we were all having a good, safe time!At 4:30AM, several friends and I decided that 3 hours of dancing to heart-pumping music was more than our euro’s worth and decided to hail a taxi home. The taxi home was quite a humorous experience. One of my friends was slightly inebriated and in “desperate” need of a hamburger. It’s odd because though everyone parties ‘til the morning light in Madrid, there’s absolutely NO place like Sonic, Whataburger, or Taco Cabana to pig out at when you’re in caloric deprivation after dancing. Our oddball taxi driver pulled over on a side street and told us to hop out and see the lady “over there” for a good Peruvian sandwich. We couldn’t find this sandwich lady at all so we gave up. Ends up, the sandwich lady is illegal, so she runs around the block with a bag of homemade sandwiches and sells them to whoever can catch her. Yeah right, like I’m going to buy a sandwich out of a random plastic bag at 4:45 AM from a Peruvian lady in Madrid!!! Way funny. So, we got back in the car and headed home, disappointed in the taxi driver’s choice of post-party food.
After getting home, I was desperate for a shower, there’s no way I can sleep smelling like an ashtray. I showered and went to bed. Concha finally woke me up at 3 PM, afraid I had died or something since she didn’t hear me come in! All in all, it was a very fun cultural experience, but I don’t exactly think I can maintain the clubbing lifestyle. Madrid young adults are famous for being able to party all night, come home and shower, chug an espresso, and head back to work! No way in the world I could pull that off!
Well, good night, and I’ll update you from Andalucia!
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