TEFLees in Spain

Upon leaving the grisly museum of death, it was time again to go cathedral hunting. Being at the top of the hill with no cathedral in sight, we broke out the broken Spanish skills once more. Finally, after a few more donde esta la cathedral’s later, we were pointed in the correct vicinity. So we started walking again, but much to our relief, it was all downhill now, and after another ten minutes of quiet, narrow streets, we arrived at our destination.

The first glimpse of this medieval masterpiece was a postcard’s view down a dark corridor; its ornately designed façade bathed in sunlight - a contrast to the shady alleyways. The entrance was set with carvings of countless saints and biblically significant figures and icons, all frozen in place and faded with time. The amount of detail was staggering. Who in the modern world would take so much time to decorate a doorway? The result of years of work and precision, it was easy to imagine the tired fingers of work-bent and weary artists.

As we approached the ticket booth, eyes wide with the overwhelming detail, we came to the unfortunate realization that yes, there was a cover charge to go in. Uh-oh. Decision time. Do we want to spend seven Euros to check out the innards of this historic behemoth, or do we want to invest those seven Euros in another way…

In typical democratic style it came down to a vote: my vote was to go in. We’ve come all the way here, this is supposed to be a big deal, I like cathedrals, etc. However, the rest of the group felt differently: cathedrals are a dime a dozen, seven Euros is a rip-off, we think it’s nearly time for our Saturday afternoon happy hour, etc. Needless to say, I lost the vote. It was no matter for me though, now I have something to do whenever my folks come for a visit. “Anyway, what time is it?” I asked, checking my phone. “Goodness gracious look at the time! It’s almost 4:00 and about high time for a cocktail!”

So we said goodbye to the cathedral and headed back to a crowded square we’d passed by earlier, and sat down at an outdoor café for a couple cervezas. For anyone who’s been in Spain for any length of time, you’ll know that a menu in English means one thing: tourist trap! And tourist traps equal overpriced, unauthentic, microwaved food. Unfortunately, neither the camera-and-map wielding crowd, nor the neighboring McDonalds, nor the English menu, was enough to warn us away from the warm 4 and a half Euro beer. Oh well, rookie mistakes are for rookies, after all.

It’s time to get serious, we then decided, and wander away from this Gran Via of Toledo, in search of quiet alleyways and Spanish menus. So back up on our feet and back to the search, we started back up with our butchering of the Spanish language. Donde esta una cervezeria sin touristas? Luckily the locals are friendly folk, or just immune to tourist annoyances, because it wasn’t long before we found ourselves seated on barstools in the comfort of a tavern, cold beers and sangria in hand, with food on its way.