Madrid – March 31
We went down to the Brazilian embassy in the morning to queue for our visas. We were given a number after waiting over an hour and then waited for four more before talking to an employee. Instead of the three day processing time in England and Russia, Spain took ten days to process the visa. We were unable to do it London due to the Easter long weekend and were advised against trying to do anything of that sort in Moscow by our Russian friends. We reluctantly handed over our passports, having no option, and went about trying to postpone our flight from Madrid to Rio.
Upon arriving the day before, Fab and I realized how bad we looked in comparison to the trendy, urban Madridians. Months of being on the road had caused us to look haggard and undernourished. Our clothes had lost all form and colour – now more of a non-colour – after months of rigorous hand washing. To put it simply, we looked like bums amongst the fashionistas and well heeled Spaniards. You know things are bad when you look forward to your night flight solely for the complimentary in-flight socks. So, we decided to do something about it.
We went to the shopping area of Puerta del Sol and treated ourselves to a pair of jeans and a couple of cotton shirts. Wearing the same pair of pants and three shirts for an entire year had mentally taken a toll. Still, we felt like failures for giving up on our rags with only two months left to go on our trip. Furthermore, we felt guilty for being so damn materialistic. At night, dressed in our new threads, we went to a tapas bar, ate some salted and cured meats and washed it all down with some vino tinto and cold cervezas, all the while feeling better about our appearance and ability to blend in.
