lunes, 7 de octubre de 2013

Driving in Spain

It took me (Tardéa while (un tiempo) to get used to (acostumbrarme a) driving in Spain. 
It's not that traffic laws are so different. 
Many times, it's the interpretation of the traffic laws and the character (personalidad) of the drivers. 

So, here's my list of complaints (quejas) and observations about driving in Spain: 



1) Turn Signals (intermitentes):  
"I'd rather (prefiero) cut you off (cortarte el paso) than make the effort (hacer el esfuerzo por) to use my turn signal." 



I have this sixth sense when I know a person is going to jump in front of me without using their turn signal. They speed up (cogen velocidad) and inch over (se acercan) to my lane (carril) and jump in front of me so close that his Spanish flag bumper sticker looks like the one at la Plaza de Colón. 

2) SUVs (todo terrenos) and buses: 
"I'm so big I can run all over you (pisarte) and you have to respect my space." 



Obviously, if I see a very large vehicle getting close to me, I'll slow down and let him in, but lots of times, I get the feeling that they don't even (ni siquiera) look before they change lanes. 

3) Audis: 
"Get out of the way (Quítate del medio) because I'm trying to break the sound barrier." 



You know these guys. They're the ones that think the world is their Autobhan. When you get in the left lane to pass (adelantar), they appear out of thin air (de la nada) and get so close to your bumper (parachoques) that you can't even see their headlights (faros)... until they flash them. These same guys are the ones that risk their lives and those of others to pass you on a curvy two-lane mountain road by darting into oncoming traffic because maybe (a lo mejor) they can go fast enough to turn back time. 

4) Traffic circles (rotondas): 
Anything goes (Todo vale



If red lights are boxing matches, traffic circles are street fights. Suddendly (de repente), lanes don't exits. There are no laws or rules, just people imposing their own will (propia voluntad)

5) There are never road signs (señales de tráfico) leading to your destination. 



You can count on getting lost (perderte) or having to stop to ask for directions whenever you're going to an unknown (desconocido, pronunciado "AN-NOUN") place because properly placed road signs are very scarce (escasas). You end up in a town in the middle of nowhere with 15 inhabitants asking the mayor/shepherd/bar owner how to get back (volver) to the highway. 

4) Missed your exit (salida)? Sorry, Charlie. The next exit where you can turn around (darse la vuelta) is in France. 



You have to pay very close attention (estar muy atento) to what exit to take because the next exit may be 20 kilometers ahead (más adelante). 

5) My, how I wish you could go right on red. 



Every once in a while (De vez en cuando), after we come back from visiting the States, I'll accidentally turn right at a red light and scare the everliving shit out of (meterle un susto de muerte) my wife. 

6) I'm terrified of changing lanes or opening my door and clobbering (meterle un viaje) a guy on a motorcycle. 



They bob and weave (saltar) in and out of traffic so fast that I always think that one could be coming, and I'm gonna accidentally stop his motorcycle in its tracks and he'll pull a Superman. 

7) Is the line (cola) for the exit too long? No problem! Just jump ahead and nose into (meterse en) a spot (hueco) when somebody's not paying attention. 



This gets on my nerves (me pone de los nervios) because I'm the guy that gets in line at the very end and waits his turn to take the exit like a good boy, then Mr. Smarty Pants (el listillo) who breaks in line (se cuela) and disregards (ignora) all of the people behind him that have been waiting for 5 minutes. 

8) Hazard lights mean (significan) diplomatic immunity. 



It's like playing "tag" (pilla pilla) and touching home base. Because you put your hazard lights on, it's OK to park in a handicapped (minusválido) space, or what the hell (qué cojones), right in the middle of the street. "I'll only be a minute!" 

9) Parking by ear. 



All cars in Madrid have dents (bollos) in the bumpers because it's generally accepted that in order to parallel park, you have to tap (tocar) the car in front of you and the one behind you several times.  

10) Auto escuela (driving school) is highway robbery (un timo)



The test is so difficult that most people don't pass (aprobar) the first time, then you have to go back to school and do more hours in the car with the instructor. The first time around, it's between 500 and 1000 euros. The second time isn't much cheaper. It's an industry. 

11) You have to drive like a real (auténtico) idiot to get pulled over (detenido en carretera)

In my 6 years in Spain, I've only seen 2 people get pulled over on the highway. Most speeding tickets are done with cameras, so the only way to get pulled is if you're driving like Dale Earnhardt, Jr. 



12) My God, I miss (echo de menos) cruise control (regulador de velocidad)

Most cars here have manual transmissions. I really miss taking road trips in the US where you get on the highway, get up to 75 mph, turn on the cruise control, and do several hours of easy miles. 



I think drivers in South Carolina are a lot more courteous than drivers in Madrid. I've seen people in SC at a stop sign wait for a car to pass even if it's 1/2 mile away sometimes. Of course, you can't compare apples and oranges (churras con merinas). Madrid is a big city with more inhabitants than the whole (entera) state of SC and it's in a hurry (tiene mucha prisa).  Lots of times, I find myself talking to other drivers, saying things like "where's the fire?" and "hold your horses, cowboy!" and "nobody get excited". 

jueves, 3 de octubre de 2013

Encounter with the Guardia Civil

I'm usually (suelo ser) a good boy. I try to follow (respetar) the rules, obey laws, be nice (amable), look good and smell decent. 

But a while back (hace un tiempo), I broke (incumplí) a law without even (ni siquiera) knowing it. 

Let's start with the back story (antecedentes). 

I used to (solía) fish a good bit (bastante) in the US. I also used to smoke. The problem is that when you fish, you have one hand holding (sujetando) the rod (caña) and one hand cranking (girando) the reel (carrete), and I didn't like holding the cigarette in my mouth because the smoke got in my eyes. So, I chewing (mascar) tobacco was a good solution.  

That was around 2004 or so. Fast forward to 2009. I started fly fishing in the mountains around Ávila and I was talking about this same thing to my Dad. He sent me a care package (paquete especial por correo al extranjero): a 6" x 10" x 10" box with about 10 packs of Red Man loose leaf chewing tobacco. 


I didn't know where to keep (guardar) it, so I put the box in the kitchen. 
The next morning, I was on the way (de camino) out the door when I saw the box and I decided to get a bag out to chew some on the way to work. 

A good friend of mine once told me that good stories always start with "So, there I was...." 

So there I was, chewing tobacco at 7:30 in the morning on the highway on the way to work in Madrid, spitting into an empty coffee cup, when the Guardia Civil (Spanish version of the State Troopers) stop beside me at a red light. 



You know that feeling when you just KNOW somebody's watching you? Well, I started looking around and I saw that there were two officers staring (mirando fijamente) at me. Hard. I think they were puzzled (perplejos) at why I was spitting (escupiendo) into the cup instead (en lugar) of drinking out of it. 

Then, the light turned green (se puso en verde) and I started driving. Well, the officers pulled me over (me detuvieron). I stopped. One got out of the car, and judging by his accent, he was obviously Andalú. 

Agente:       Buenoh díah
Me:              Buenos días, señor agente. 
Agente:       You can't drink coffee while you're driving. 
Me:              I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not drinking coffee. 
Agente:       I know you're drinking coffee. 
                    I saw the cup. 
                    You can't drink anything while you're driving because it's a distraction. 
Me:             I understand that, but I swear I wasn't drinking coffee. 
                    I was chewing tobacco. 
                   I'm American. 
                   Can't you hear my accent? 
                   Have you ever seen a cowboy movie? 
                    Look. 
                   (I showed him the coffee cup complete with an inch of tobacco spit in it)
Agente:      Por Dios.... (Dear God....)
                   OK, look, you can't hold anything in your hands other than the wheel while you're                            driving. 
                   Go on. 
                   Adios

You should've seen the look on his face. 
I would've paid money to hear what he had to say when he got back to the station.