Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Palacio Real, Madrid
26 November
4:45: woke up on a Friday morning before even the buses started (which would prove to be a minor snag in the plans) to grab our suitcases and try to make our way towards Heathrow.
5:55: More than an hour later, a bus finally makes its appearance on the Surbiton route. This is far too late for us to make it on time, though, and I buckle and book a last minute taxi from the ever reliable local services. An amiable Irishman named Mick whisks us off to Terminal 1 before you can say "unplanned expense".
7:20: An altogether unremarkable flight from Heathrow to Madrid.
11:30: We step off the Metro at Opera, and head over to the obligatory internet hostel(TM). Los Amigos Sol was hidden away on the fifth (fourth, says Europe) floor of a decrepit old building on Calle Arenal. At first I thought we must have the wrong address - the stairway was covered in concrete dust and workmen stared at us. But no, apparently the entire building had been renovated and they decided to leave the elevators for last. Ah well.
13:00: Van and I checked in without any problems and went for a walk. We'd both wanted to go to Spain for a loooong time and like gormless tourists kept pointing out familiar-sounding Spanish words from our Filipino vocabulary (hehe, look - Paraiso del Jamon...) We wandered into the Plaza del Sol just in time for Friday afternoon street demonstrations. We had tapas and San Miguel in Las Bravas, a local bar, at 2pm - perfect timing for those 35-hour workers to enjoy an early weekend beer. As we would later learn, the Spanish have no knees - they prefer to do most things standing up, ALL THE TIME.
St. Josemaria Escriva
16:00: Our wanderings have taken a circular route round to the Plaza Mayor, up towards the old market (closed) and the cathedral beside the Palacio Real, where a very spritely statue of Pope John Paul II stands vigil. Inside the Castilian decadence of the church reminded me of the Opus Dei-run Chapel in my old college, Stella Orientis. True enough, there was a larger-than-life Josemaria Escriva shrine in one of the alcoves behind the altar. I took a snapshot for Nanay's sake.
Outside, we duck into the Palacio Real for a Van-style mini tour - gift shop and photos of the facade. (Hey, it saves time!) We skirt round the Plaza Oriental and have coffee in Cafe Real, where half of a vaguely disquieting flamenco dancer stands vigil on the second floor with eyes that follow you round the room.
20:00: After a siesta in room seven, we were ready for some night life. We had a little argument over the EXACT amount of time to spend in a Mango store (none, being the right answer). But all was right again and we walked round town. In no particular order, we visited the Plaza Mayor, the Calle Toledo, had dinner at a local Taberna (paella, callos, and rioja, thanks for asking) and had coffee at a fantastic local chain called Faborit.
Faborit
Madrid at night is wonderfully chilled. The locals seem to radiate a wonderful laidbackness which is so at odds with the hectic, party-while-you-can ambience of other cities (I'm looking at you, London). They navigate their own course through a program of late dinner, drinks, coffee and conversation which is both relaxing and totally eyebagging for anyone not used to staying up into the single digits. At 01:45 we called it a night; as we were exiting more of the young chicas and caballeros were standing at ease with their coffees than when we came in.ZZZZZ.
Labels: travel
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.