Here's the problem...after walking for 30 minutes and not finding anything but jam-packed bars, I began to get discouraged. (I would be ok with going into a bar, but my language would slur - kinda like a drunkard.)
Then...it shined like a neon-sign...Burger King. It's not because it's American, but it was the only place open that was "fast" food for me - and not a great language challenge to say, "numero dos, el Double Stack." There was a line of about 10 people ahead of me, and by this time it is 10:40pm. The line is not moving fast, so I have time to think about my order. I haven’t eaten nearly anything all day, and now my hunger pangs have started to pass, so I’m thinking just a simple sandwich.
But then I saw the propaganda…if I ordered a meal, I could get (yet another) Indiana Jones-themed glass mug for only 1 euro more. Sing me up!
It doesn’t matter anyway; I know Dr. Jones needs my help.
I didn’t even finish my burger and fries – I had the Holy Grail, and it was getting late. My pistol was not in its holster, but fortunately, it was beautiful weather for a walk…and Madrid is safe at that time of night. I decided to be adventuresome and try a new way home…kinda like a short cut…kinda.I weaved in and out of streets, trying to stick close to the main ones as I headed in the right general direction. My adventure became anti-climatic when I finally came to a dead-end and had to ask some guy how to get back to my neighborhood. I made it home fine, and the journey was over. I don’t know if Spielberg could have directed a better night.