Mr M is in Shanghi right now so I’m pretty much floating around like that Lost in Translation chick, looking at ways of passing time.
The plan: attend a meetup for watching undubbed American films (not that I’m especially interested in this genre per se, but because it means I can meet people who speak some English and socialise a bit.)
The reality: I turn up an hour early because I can’t tell time. Wonder around the city centre to kill time, then realise that:
a) it’s twenty minutes to the film’s start time (because I still can’t tell time)
b) I’m closer to home than to the cinema (which I cant make it back to in time for anyway thanks to my “down the rabbit hole” wondering) so just give up and go home since I’m hungry and since Madrid is torture for someone who can’t eat out with all the amazing food smells everywhere.
That’s when one of the friends of the Mr I’d texted earlier says he can make it and I have to explain what a loser I am at…oh…just space and time.
I have to say, walking around made me feel like such a racial anomaly. When I passed outside the Turkish kebab place I wished I could eat out (at a kebab place, of all things) cos it was the closest I got to to seeing anyone in this city who resembles me. This place is really, really not racially diverse. I see very, very occasional black people. No Indians. No Sikhs. No hijabias, which isn’t even something you look at twice in the UK. I feel like Stitch in Lilo and Stitch where he realises there are no others like him.
The good news is I got to explore the city centre
Saw some hilarious, non ironic Jesus plushies (shot from the back since they were facing the customers in the store, and I didn’t want to be that obvious) and Jesus board game in a book shop that was 80% bibles (as book shops here seem to be)
Walked past the gluten free bakery who’s amazing wears I can’t have because of pesky dairy
Saw some fabulous wigs in a wig shop
And figured out how to get the city centre from home (pretty much a straight line after the metro near us)
Also, I discovered that soursup is easily available in the many fruit shops in every neighbourhood, which I never expected to be the case outside the Caribbean. Guess there are some perks to living in a place with a lot of Latin Americans, although I notice that Barcardi and 100% aguave Tequila are not at all common in grocery stores and corner shops.