Madrid (December 2021)
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| Elsa featuring Madrid's cathedral |
Day 1
I am picked up at 8:50 by my BlaBlaCar driver Raúl, a long-haired Madrileño who describes himself as "escritor, musico y fabricante" (writer, musician and maker). We pick up 3 other passengers but despite the full vehicle it is a silent journey, soundtracked by Spanish rock music. I chat to an Argentinean passenger at the petrol station which isn't totally fruitul due to the combination of mask and accent. The part of Spain we drive through is predominantly beige and when we reach the outskirts of Madrid the lanes multiply and blocks of flats suddenly start to pop up. I meet Elsa in Parque Retiro, by the lake with the boats. The sun is shining and it feels like a Spring day in the UK. We are served an enormous amount of churros at a cafe, surrounded by Spaniards with their afternoon cañas and copas (beer and wine). After a minor fiasco where Elsa's crooked debit card gets stuck in a metro card machine, we make our way to the Airbnb, located in a suburb of the city. Our host is called Randy. We theorise what his full name could be; Randrew, Randstopher, Randlestiltskins. They get more illogical - Neil Randstrong, Michelrangelo, Rant and Dec. We are welcomed by Randy's flatmate (we quickly label him fake Randy) who swiftly shows us the flat before returning to his siesta. Casa del Randy is located in the San Blas area, which is mostly flats. Elsa says they remind her of Marseille.
In the evening we go to Calle Cava Baja (a street of taperías recommended by Elsa's colleague and a Spanish-Kiwi youtuber couple who I have been binge watching). We start at Taberna La Concha where the speciality is a vermouth cocktail. After a confusing exchange with a stressed waitress who I don't understand we are sat down and served the Manuela (the house vermouth with a spritz of gin and campari) and a wee tapa of cracker and goat's cheese. This excellent aperitivo is finished with a tiny delicious chocolate which looks like a poo emoji, and a bill which only comes to 6 euros! Our next stop is La Perejilla; a festively-decorated bar where Elsa has her first caña and we share some rebanadas (basically just nice cheese on toast). Finally we enter a more bougie establishment for another vermouth, our new favourite drink, and a morsel of chorizo. There is a glass floor showing the remains of the 12th Century city wall, which the waitress tells us runs under the entire street.
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| Taberna La Concha |
We start the day off in Chueca (the LGBTQ neighbourhood) where Elsa has her first tostada con tomate breakfast (she LOVES it). We make our way through the centre, which is heaving with tourists and a disappointing christmas market selling naff knick-knacks. There is a huge queue for La Campana (one of Madrid's best bocadillo de calamares, a big baguette type sandwich filled with calamari) but we decide that it's probably worth it and fight some old biddies for a space in the queue. The inside is rammed with tiny tables, shouting staff, and pretty white tiles. With barely any other foreigners, it is a battle trying to order. I get the classic bocadillo de calamares with allioli and Elsa a bocadillo de tortilla, washed down with two cañas. After this hefty lunch we amble our way towards the Palacio Real, briefly stopping at a free museum of Madrid's history (bit boring, I don't recommend). Outside the cathedral there is a man playing a mash-up of Für Elise and Moonlight Sonata with his toes. The cathedral's nave looks freshly painted. It feels like Christmas. Just around the corner the palace gates seem to be a hotspot for Instagrammers pulling sexy poses. Elsa joins in.
Later on we have dinner at a Mexican taquería, which is probably the most authentic Mexican food that I've had since Mexico City! The margaritas are served with sticky sweet salsa around the rims and I relish the taste of maize tortillas which are hard to come by in the UK. We've been recommended Cafe Berlin for jazz, so take a look and buy tickets to a flamenco-jazz concert which is about to start. It's the first live music that I've seen in a long time. We are giddy with gig buzz afterwards and end up in an Irish pub where we sink into a leather sofa with more vermouth.
Day 3
We decide to breakfast closer to home and tostada ourselves at a local cafe in San Blas which features lots of old men, Spain's Got Talent on TV, and not a tourist in sight. Today is Sunday which means El Rastro, the city's biggest flea market. The streets around this area slope and are covered with thousands of stalls piled high with antiques, military jackets, crockery, and knick-knacks. I even find a book about the Academia General del Aire in San Javier (where I live!). I buy a patterned tank top from a lady who thinks that I'm French. We see a very long queue for tostas (essentially just toast with different toppings) and after queuing for that excellent bocadillo we trust that these tostas must be good. Alas, Elsa's ham tosta is, in fact, too hammy and my risky choice of octopus doesn't pay off either.
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| El Rastro |
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| Art imitates art in Lavapiés |
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| Streets of Lavapiés |
Day 4
Today is our day trip to Toledo! We breakfast again at our new joint where we now consider ourselves regulars, even though no-one recognises us. We have a strange start to the day with a Blablacar journey which is conversationless and soundtracked by intense EDM. Upon arrival in Toledo, we are shouted at by a man in the car park. "No es mi coche," I explain, and we scuttle away. Luckily, things get less strange as we follow the path up to the medieval part of the city. Toledo's cobbled streets remind me of the medieval French towns Pérouges or Pau, expect maxed out by tourists. Known as the city of 3 cultures, Toledo is filled with Muslim, Jewish, and Christian history. Every corner there seems to be a church, synagogue or mosque. As Elsa puts it, "this town is BUSTIN' with religion". We are actually mistaken as toledanas several times. First by a proudly-Toledan man who is selling jam made by nuns, and then by a very lost lady who is searching for a particular nun (?). We aren't able to help her on her quest unfortunately.
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| Toledo's cathedral |
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| Synagogue of Santa Maria la Blanca |
The main sights we visit are Ermito Cristo de la Luz, the cathedral, the synagogue Maria (previously a church, synagogue, refuge and military storeroom), and a church famous for housing a Greco painting. It is very much a tourist town and even though it is nice to be out of the city, I think we are both relieved to return to Madrid at the end of the day. Neither of us feel like going out so we book cinema tickets to see House of Gucci. We buy giant coca-colas and munch on salty popcorn as Lady Gaga aces an Italian accent. We are revived by the film and head to a little bodega for some tortilla and a nightcap.
Day 5
Naturally, our last tostada takes place at our local joint. Elsa has to get a certified Covid test so we make our way to a strange little doctor's surgery. After an aggressive swab up each nostril we head to the Prado Museum. As one of Spain's biggest galleries, we prioritise our energies towards Goya, El Greco, and Bosch (who isn't Spanish, but is a personal favourite). We are a bit disappointed by the first Goyas (royally-commissioned cartoons and portraits) but are intrigued by his "black" period, a series of (obviously) dark paintings, featuring haggard characters who look like they've seen better days. In perhaps his most famous "black" painting, Saturn is eating his baby son. One features a sad little dog buried in some sand with a very convoluted description. In the Bosch room we study the Garden of Earthly Delights and all its strange subjects. There are orgies, a platypus on skates, giant body parts protuding from strange places, a nun with a pig's face.
Our final stop is the Sorolla Museum, the former house and studio of impressionist artist Joaquin Sorolla. It is tucked away in an unassuming neighbourhood, preserved in a little timewarp, and it reminds me of Frida Kahlo's house in Mexico City. There is a twee garden with little water features, symmetrical shrubbery, and intricate tiles on the walls. The interior is a hybrid of former studio and art gallery with some rooms neatly curated, whilst in others every wall is covered with with his paintings, family photographs and possessions. For its location in a capital city, it is an incredibly peaceful place and feels like the appropriate location for a despedida (farewell)!
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| Sorolla's gaff |
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| Sorolla's tiles |
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