After my last post I completely failed to get to sleep so thought I’d try to make something more of my Sunday morning and so went to El Rastro, a massive flea market that takes over a number of streets with a bedlam of randomness every Sunday morning. There are plenty of stalls selling clothes and jewelry and whatnot, but the fun’s to be had in its darker regions which are full of stalls selling, basically, any old rubbish… assorted junk and knickknacks strewn on sheets on the ground from half-mauled ancient children’s toys to ancient car-phone bricks to brass (possibly) torture devices to doors (actual massive old wooden doors still in frames apparently been hacked from their houses) and really anything you can imagine – nazi memorabilia, collectable pornographic comics, Bakelite telephones, suits of armour. Awesome. (Photos here, because I couldn’t be bothered to take any)

I stumbled home around 11 completely exhausted and slept for most of the rest of the day. In the evening Elisa picked me up and we went out with some old friends to a Moroccan bar for teas and water pipes. Rosita, one of Elisa’s friends known through previous visits to Madrid and Bangor, and I have agreed to be language partners and meet up to teach each other, which is a great idea… something I need as the school is slacking in giving me the Spanish classes they promised.