madrid

I can't believe that our week here is nearly over. 

We leave tomorrow for Cordoba.We are sitting at an outside table in a small paved plaza at the end of our street, Plaza de Puerta Cerrada.

This is what we do most evenings from about 6-7pm in Madrid, with hordes of Spanish  people and the occasional tourist. We find a different bar or cafeteria. I have a cava or campari or cerveza with olives or potato crisps and Dave has an orange juice or coffee. Then we sit for two or three hours, enjoying the warmth,admiring the architecture, reflecting on the day, watching the passing parade of people, listening to the ambient sounds of conversation. Life is out of doors. The weather is “perfecto” in May. High twenties every day. It isn't dark until 9:30 when people leave the bars and move to restaurants or their homes for dinner..

Luckily, my cunning plan to take the slow route to Spain worked; I avoided the dreaded jet lag and deep vein thrombosis. A good thing too, because our apartment on the third floor of a 16^th century building just off the Plaza Mayor involves 82 stone steps worn concave by the feet of several centuries.

I am in love with Madrid. Why? Partly the week of sunny days. I didn't like Barcelona in October 2008 when all I can remember is a sea of umbrellas moving along the Ramblas; Dave and I huddling in plastic hooded raincoats, the only tourists on the upper deck of the red bus; queuing for ages at the Sagrada Familia to see a building site. Yes the weather has something to do with it. The contrast with Dubai is another factor. In Madrid anything goes, People are expressive, musical and exuberant. No wonder the Lonely Planet Guide bills it “the most passionate city in Europe.”

Mariachi mayhem!

An elderly senora holds a fan to cool her face. A young woman in short shorts and very high heels, which get caught between the cobblestones, hangs on to her young man. Two long haired young men with musical instruments strung over their shoulders hurry home. The slogan on a young boy's tee shirt reads "Live more. Think less." That sums up the hedonistic vibe here.

It is the people who make Madrid such a happy place. And all this against a background of financial despair. The Spanish stock market crashed last week. At least one in four people are unemployed, yet it is not evident apart from the few professional beggars outside tourist haunts.

We found ourselves caught up in a political demonstration a couple of days ago.

Thousands of black clad people holding red flags, bunches of red and black balloons , a gigantic papier mache caricature of a political figure and political slogans swarmed along the Calle Major as we were arriving home.

What amazed me was that the demonstration was like a fiesta. People were happy, laughing, chanting, singing, blowing whistles and beating drums. They posed for Dave to photograph them. They chatted with the police. [It was a demonstration against the massive cuts to the public service so the police were in accord]. A brass band playing Latino music was part of the parade. Passers by joined in and danced to the rhythms. It seemed a joyful celebration of community rather than an angry or violent outburst. 

The Palace and Carol

Another pleasure is practising my Spanish. After a ten week course, it is VERY limited but it gives me a thrill to speak it and to pick up on a little of what others are saying. Yesterday I was admiring Picasso's powerful  Guernica ,when I heard a young dad, with his little 2 or 3 year old girl perched on his shoulders, asking what she could see in the painting. In Spanish she replied “the bull, the horse, a mother and an eye”. Yes I know it is at toddler level, but it was such a joy to understand their interaction.

Activity for all on Sunday afternoon in the extensive Madrid public park, Parque De El Retiro

Toledo

Campari and coffee O'clock

Of course we have been to the art galleries, read under a shady tree in the park, walked for kilometres over cobbled streets [so glad I brought sturdy cobble proof shoes], admired palaces and piazzas and other elegant architecture, tried different tapas and wines, watched street performers and busking musicians, taken a fast train for a day in Toledo.  But these are the things you can read about in tourist guide books.

Tapas and wine at the wonderful San Miguel Mercado.

Tomorrow morning I will unbolt the big wooden doors, open the casement windows, fold back the heritage shutters [very fragile dark brown painted wood] and step out on to the wrought iron balcony for the last time. The sky will be blue. The senora who lives opposite will be tending her vibrant pink, red and white flowers on her tiny balcony. Someone will be whistling the anthem of the red and white football team who won the cup last week. 

Soon I will hear the metallic clop of horses hooves on cobblestones as two policemen ride by and through the arch into the Plaza Mayor.

 





















A few people will hurry past and the performance artist who dresses as a bronze military statue will apply his bronze face make up behind a pillar below. A group of school children with back packs will sing in unison as they straggle through the narrow street.
We will go over to the San Miguel market, only a few paces from our big wooden front door, to try another continental delicacy from the tempting displays before un cafe solo and un cafe con leche. 

I will be sad to leave marvellous Madrid...but it will all continue without this observer.

Madrid has more trees than any other city in the world.