We didn’t really stay in Zaragoza, as we had some difficulty following the directions in Kamp Führer. Anyways, Dagi drove a bit, then she let me get some rest hands-on experience mit dem Auto.

Zaragoza- Madrid Spain

My job was watching out for cute guys; while Dagi’s job was watching for street signs, one-way streets, and directions. It worked out okay while she was driving, but it wasn’t as good when I drove. So at first, we were okay sweltering in dem Auto mit alle Fenstern zu, so nobody would grab us. And Dagi with a Heineken in one hand and pointing out directions mit dem anderen Hand. I saw a lot of babes. But what do you expect with 3 million people living in Madrid.

So I guess we’d been going around driving in Madrid for 45 minutes- 1 1/2 hours when we ran out of beer, and got tired of yelling out dem Fenster to taxi drivers for directions…”Ah Señor…para Segovia, El Escorial?” And they would look at us like we were wild-mad women, shaking their heads, and waving a hand in the air. I had to tell Dagi several times before making an illegal U-turn in a traffic circle or 8 way intersection; or while speeding up 100 meters before a red light, to “Hang On !”

But we finally paid a taxi driver to lead us out of the insanity of the city and made our way easily paved, as er führte uns nach Segovia, El Escorial.

They’re on top of that hill, by El Escorial, es war schöne. The Kamp Platz war auch schöne, große, sauber und mit viele Madrideñas. Families and kids, campers mit TV’s, swimming pool, video games, überall. We picnicked our Tomaten 🍅 Maize Salat mit Baguette 🥖 and Oliven 🫒 while unsere Nachbar hat Bebes geschossen at us. We figured he was an overgrown Spanish boy, who screamed out “Mama” during acts of s.I.

 

Summer 1992