Last night Saturday night after Segovia, we had big plans to see a bullfight at 10:30 after eating dinner at Doner Kebab, a popular type of fast food place serving middle-eastern dishes. Unfortunately, it rained. And poured. Presumably the same storm that had kept things moist (you’re welcome, Doug :-)) in Segovia caused the downpour which conveniently coincided with the subsequently canceled bullfight. We were able to get a refund in the rain (it was either that or go to a make-up on July 21), so it wasn’t all bad. I just hope we can find time to make it to a bullfight before we leave.
To try to stay dry, we decided to go see a new area of town, the northern suburbs. Tanya’s boyfriend (also studying abroad) lives up there, so he knew the area pretty well. As an added bonus, it was pretty far away on the subway, giving us time to sit and dry off (and maybe to let the rain dissipate). After about 40 minutes on the Metro, we finally got to Lacoma, our station. That’s when I decided to take a picture of the Metro car to show you all (it was very nice). Bad idea.
In a situation comically reminiscent of the Palacio Real, a security guard started yelling and ran up demanding I delete the photo. I said I would be happy to delete it and was sorry for any trouble. With him watching, I then proceeded to delete it. Appearantly he wasn’t satisfied by my deletion (he was probably looking for the word "Borrar" instead of "Delete") and continued to tell me to delete the photo which was now already gone. Neither was he satisfied by me showing him the last photo I had taken, then scrolling to the first (and not seeing the offending photo).
At this poing two more guards came up and told him to calm down, that it was not a problem, and to stop yelling. One of the guards said "after all it’s probably a picture for memories." But guard number one said that picures weren’t allowed under his watch and he wouldn’t tolerate any "memories". The guards continued back and forth until I remembered another view for seeing taken photos that shows 9 per screen. At the bottom, he could clearly see which picture was last and that it was not of the Metro. Finally he was convinced. After more apologizing, we were on our way again for the rest of the evening, unscathed (and already much dryer).
Moral of the story: no pictures on the <Metro>. Ever.