It’s not open...at 9

How silly I was to think my new gym might be open at 9 on a Sunday.  My morning gym pass will work from 11 (when I found out they open) until 3 on Sundays.  It’s very fitting how the traditional concepts of morning, noon, and night are slightly tweaked here.  Sadly, my hours of operation are becoming less and less Spaniard with the weeks.  When we first moved to Madrid, I adjusted quickly to the later hours.  Without really trying I was having no difficulty staying up to midnight and sleeping until 7 or 8.  But then I began trying, and things got harder or seemed to revert to my pre-Spaniard days. Now I wake at 5:30 or 6, sometimes earlier as Dorothy seemed to be on an “I want a morning bottle phase” for too long with cries between 4:30 and 5:30.

It's not open...at 5:30am

In Chicago I was the neighborhood quack who be waiting outside of Starbucks at 5:30am for a cup of coffee and some quiet time for reading the paper.  It was part of my morning routine on and off for the last several years.  I miss it greatly.  Here the earliest you can find a cup of coffee (or espresso) is at least 7:30 and really more like 8 or 9.  Starbucks doesn't open on Sundays until 9:30 (I didn't even try to go looking early during the week).  Coffee in Madrid is much more of an all-day social activity.  One of the surest ways to be spotted as an American is to ask for a coffee "para llevar" (or to-go).  Only Starbucks offers that and even there the default is a ceramic mug.  That said the Spanish breakfast scene has ruined me on Starbucks.  The espresso is so much richer and most of the time the tortilla espanol is much more filling than anything Starbucks offers.  So I guess I miss my Starbucks friends - Dale, Ethan, and the crew - more than I really miss Starbucks.  Haven't gotten to be really friendly with any of the new breakfast holes as of yet.

It’s not open...at 2:30

Siesta.  Lasting anywhere from 1:30 – 4:30 but most typically 2:30-4, the afternoon rest period remains a mainstay of Spanish life.  I’ve adjusted pretty quickly, not planning to do anything involving anyone else during the afternoons.  I found early on that stated hours of siesta were often rather fungible and that a “return at 3:30” sign was really probably more like return at 4.  For Eric, I think the siesta has been more frustrating.  His work is at least a 30-minute drive from our house, and thus it’s not possible to run home for some Dorothy time or a breather.  Yet, the work schedules mandate a siesta with expectations of arrival between 8 and 9 and exit sometime after 6:30.  So siesta becomes about spending either more time explicitly working at your desk or spending time with coworkers over the extended lunch.  Luckily Eric has some very nice coworkers.

It’s not open...on Sunday

Need I say more at this point.