“Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.” ― Anita Desai

Thursday 25^th June

Last day in Madrid

We woke late, as checkout was a very civilised noon. The cases were repacked and we set off to explore Madrid for the last time (this time). Many of the shops in Madrid have rebajas, which means REDUCTIONS, one of Mary’s favourite words, and one of her favourite stores, Desigual, had up to 70% off. The main store in Madrid has five floors. Wacko! It also helps that non European Union customers are able to have tax free purchases. So, shopping we went. Picked up a couple of bargains and then went for brunch at our favourite chocolateria, San Gines. Orange juice, coffee and churros with chocolate.

Somewhat revived we the headed off to the Royal Palace, open today.

2800 rooms, although we only saw about 20, but those 20 are spectacular. We can only assume that the other 2780 are equally OTT. Gold, Tiepolo frescoes, gilt, Stradivarius instruments, porcelain and/or silk covered walls, marble, parquetry and sumptuousness everywhere. The king who built it back in the late 1700’s wanted it to be the Versailles of Madrid. The Portuguese wanted to do that too, but obviously the Spanish had a lot more money.

After revelling in the wealth, and playing around in 38 degree summer sun with panorama shots,  we then needed a reviver and went to Taberna Real, which used to be the living quarters of the palace servants, and today is bar. A popular and traditional Madrid drink is Vermut, a vermouth on tap, which we had with some olives. Then we walked around to find La Casa del Abuela, a restaurant we went to on the Food Tour, which specialises in gambas (shrimp). We had their speciality, shrimps in garlic, olive oil and parsley (the holy trinity of Spanish cooking) and crumbed shrimps. on sticks, deep fried. 

Things were going beautifully, well timed so that we could return to the hotel, get changed and get the cab to the airport. We decided to get a taxi, as it was very hot and we wanted a little extra time to have a cool drink. The taxi trip should have taken about five minutes, and after five days in Madrid we knew which way to go. The taxi driver did not. Although we said the name of the hotel, ATLANTICO, several times, especially as we seemed to be going the wrong way, and told him the street and repeated the hotel name, he still kept going and took us to the Grand Atlanta Hotel, across the other side of Madrid. Dick told him to turn off the meter and get us to Atlantico, quickly. The peak hour traffic was horrendous. We were hoping to be at the airport at seven. At 7:20 we were still in traffic. As we neared the hotel, we threw some euros at him, raced into the hotel, grabbed the luggage and then crossed Madrid’s busiest street to hail another cab to the airport. The driver of this cab was terrific and promised to get us there in 20 minutes. Which he did. We gave him the last of our euros – the fare and a good tip.

We checked in and then tried to get our tax refund. There are several steps in the process, involving a few different agencies, customs being one and the money refund office being another. These offices are in different parts of the airport, through a maze of escalators, lifts, security checks, passport control and one-way, no return doors. The receipts got stamped, but there was not time to get the refund. I will try posting them back and see what happens.

We are on the plane and about to have a bit of a snooze (hopefully).

A good flight back and home at 6:45 am Saturday morning. We hope you have enjoyed the 40 days and 40 nights of VerweysAway2015.

“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” (Pablo Picasso)

Wednesday 24 June

Well, we woke up feeling like we have been away for five and half weeks, not keeping still, on the move, thus, a little weary. Dusty in body and soul. We had a slow breakfast and tried to decide what to do for our second last day in Madrid, before we head for home on Thursday night. We had tickets for Reina Sofia Gallery, which houses an enormous collection of 20^th Century art, but the thought of traipsing across town in 38 degrees did dampen our enthusiasm.

But we headed off, stopping at El Cortes Ingles, a huge department store, very much like Myer. They say if you can’t find it in ELC, then it doesn’t exist. Perhaps a slight exaggeration. But there are mid-season sales on, so one of us was happy to wander around choosing some gifts for our grandchildren and one was very patient.

The shopping had a slightly restorative effect and we made our way through town, stopping off to check our tickets for a flamenco show this evening.

Reina Sofia Museum is enormous. It was originally housed in Madrid’s first public hospital, but the collection outgrew the space and a modern four storey extension was added in the 1990s. It faces a large square and adjoins the Conservatory of Music. Two towers at the front house six glass elevators, which enabled a great view across Madrid while zooming to the top.

The rooms are large and the artworks are really spaced apart. Photos were permitted, until you get to “Guernica”, the showpiece of the whole gallery.

“Guernica” is Picasso’s response to the bombing by German aircraft, at Franco’s request in 1937. It is a powerful, heart wrenching painting, depicting the horror inflicted on mostly civilian women and children. The rooms around it display preparatory drawings, photos, paintings and sculptures.

After we saw “Guernica” we just felt “arted” out – no more galleries! Just as well, we go home tomorrow.

We got a taxi back to the hotel, conserving the small reserves of energy left, so that we could have a rest, and enjoy dinner and the Flamenco Show. Dinner was tapas – veal meatballs, artichokes with ham shavings, ham and mushroom croquettes, with a vermut and a beer. We are true Madrilenos. The food in Madrid is fabulous!

The Flamenco Show was in a tiny theatre, with seats arranged around tables for guest having dinner or tiered seats, if not. We were given a large glass of sangria and enjoyed the singing, guitars and dance. There is a similarity between the matador and the male dancer, and the singing is a bit mournful, like fado, with lots of clapping and “Ole” and “Hola” and other encouraging sounds.

We have tried to see the “national” dance or theatre in each country – trad music and dance and an irish play in Ireland, bagpipes in Scotland, musical comedy in London, people watching in Paris, Fado in Portugal and Flamenco in Madrid.

Very cultural.

Madrid is a feast, of art, food, architecture, music, and people. It has absolute beauty and culture clashing with the horror of the bullfights. It is a fascinating and contrasting city.

The most beautiful pictures are absurd in a concave mirror. (Ramon Valle Inclan, Bohemian Lights)

Madrid

June 23

After last night’s delightful moving feast there was no need for a break feast but we did need to keep moving or else Madrid would pass us by.

So far every trip we have made has commenced at the Callao Square across the road where there is always some sort of event happening – today it was classic cars: American (Buick) mostly.

After a few stops of shops along the way we decided it was time for a breakfast of churros and 2 cups of thick dipping chocolate at San Gines Chocolateria. The Spanish poet, Ramon Valle Inclan, is said to have been inspired by San Gines Chocolateria, but when I googled his poetry and plays, it all seemed very bleak. The churros and chocolate were not.

Suitably refreshed we recommenced our stroll through streets, shops, attempting to buy tickets for Porgy and Bess but the show was not on our last 2 nights in Spain. Until we reached the Royal Palace (with 2,800 rooms), luckily or unluckily it is also not open on our last 2 full days here, but there is always the Cathedral.

The cathedral took over 100 years to build and was only relatively recently opened. However, besides a couple of the more modern artworks there did not seem to be too much difference with the other Cathedrals we have visited – however the holy “lift” choral music gently piped thru the building was relaxing…and it was cool, as the temperature was rising, with a humid, thunderstorm type cloud pattern hovering.

We decided to head back to the other side of the city and the Museo Thyssen Bornemisza to see another collector’s donation of art.

Along the way we stopped at:

-           the shop El Jardin del Convento which is run by Carmelite Nuns to purchase a batch of their cookies (as tasted on the previous night’s food tour)

-          The San Miguel Market for a plate of olives with octopus and gherkins with tuna plus a plate of 50 grams of finely sliced Iberian ham (also tasted on the food tour) at $200.00 per kg. The pig lives free range under oak trees eating acorns until it is 160kg – then killed and cured for 2 years – we will never be able to eat another type  of ham again

-          And finally a few other shops, including a clothes shop to try out a few leather jackets – just to get an idea.

The Thyssen Museum tuned out to be so much bigger and grander than expected so we had to stop for a coffee break half way through. But suffice to say that whatever I did not see in the previous museums and galleries they were all here: Rembrandt’s self portraits, Henry V111 Holbein portrait, Raphael, Titian, Tintoretto, El Greco, Rodin, Picasso, Monet, Manet, Van Gogh, Lucien Freud, Rothko, Arshile Gorky, Matta, Ernst, Mondrian, Braque, Lichtenstein, Rauschenberg & the list goes on. But my favourite today were the 2 by Dali. Painted with the incredible detail and rock hard smooth enamel surface of an old Flemish master (i.e., Rogier van der Weyden) depicting the strangest, mysterious, anxiety ridden dreamscapes.

Home about 6:30 to collapse on our beds wordless & exhausted until we were roused by the thunderstorm with rain & relief from the heat to head up to the 9^th floor for Tea and Tortilla Patata in our Terrace Café. Where we watched the storms clouds and rain and wondered how do the Spanish get in 6 meals per day!!! Whilst reading the Spanish fashion magazines which seem to take the subject about who’s cool and who’s not with an extraordinary amount of seriousness and earnestness, that it’s got to be “tongue in cheek”.