“Parting is such sweet sorrow”
– William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet/Alan Carr, Celebrity Traitors
My word, where has the time gone? We’re so sorry to leave you chomping at the bit, waiting for an update. But rest assured, we’ve been doing a lot these past nine days, so buckle up for a mega-blog.
After exploring the local neighbourhood on our first full day in Madrid, we decided to take in some culture and booked tickets to the Prado Museum. For those who haven’t been, imagine the Louvre with better air conditioning, and like the Louvre it is truly sprawling. You could easily spend a whole day here. In theory, at least, as we got about three hours in when our feet started hurting and we headed on home.
But not before taking in some truly beautiful pieces by Goya, Bosch, Titian, and Rubens among others. There’s something visceral about seeing works like Saturn Devouring His Son or The Garden of Earthly Delights in person, a wholly and qualitatively different experience to seeing them in a book or on the screen of your phone, and there’ll be more of this when we get to the Reina Sofia.
There were also some very questionable portraits of dogs in several pictures, but who am I to judge these historic masters of their craft? Apologies for the lack of photos, but we got told off for taking photos so you’ll have to take our word for it. Some photos we do have, though, are of the statue of a bear eating strawberries in Plaza Del Sol. It’s the symbol of the city. Because bears and strawberries go together like, well, you surely don’t need me to tell you.
The following day saw us doing something we surprisingly haven’t done on our travels – hopping onto a good old-fashioned open top bus tour. It’s just like how I remember them. The brown double-decker buses, the cantankerous staff at the bus stop, the slightly cramped seats – enough to bring a tear to your eye.
I realise this sounds like I’m having a go but I’m very much not, as we had a really good time and the above is written with tongue firmly planted in cheek1. It was a great way to see the historic centre of the city. There’s too much for me to remember, let alone list here, but we saw so many beautiful historic buildings. Madrid definitely has its own style compared to Barcelona, but it can certainly rival its beauty.
There also are a lot of buildings put up under Franco’s rule that are still standing. They’re due to be torn down but it’s one of those projects that keeps getting kicked down the road. What is it with Spanish-speaking countries and finding it difficult to part with Franco’s aesthetics?2 Don’t get me wrong, they are remarkably striking, and it’s interesting to see them for the purposes of learning the city’s history. But things get complicated when you drive past the Spanish Air Force General Headquarters, built on orders of Franco and based on buildings in Nazi-ruled Berlin. The large eagle above the doors is, as the kids would say, certainly cooked.
We got our value for money from our tickets. There are three routes in total and we saw all of them by the time our 24-hour ticket ran out. The Ruta Moderna took us amongst the city’s skyscrapers and business districts before showcasing the Bernabeu, Real Madrid’s home ground. The Ruta Actual included a drive past the Las Ventas bull ring, opened in 1931 and in which bull fights still happen today, but we didn’t go to see any of them. Call it a mix of moral objections and squeamishness.
Another highlight was the Reina Sofia museum, memorable for reasons both good and harrowing. It’s one of Spain’s most famous modern art museums, and us both being fans of a bit of surrealism or two it was a no brainer to head in.
The top floor though, my word. The accompanying texts to the works noted the horrors Madrid had gone through since the reinstation of democracy – a heroin epidemic, the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and the 2004 Madrid bombings, to name but a few – and let’s say lots of artists were clearly working through the trauma. If a video of an artist bathing in the blood of a sacrificial cow wasn’t enough for you, you could instead gaze at a series of stark black-and-white photographs documenting the objectification of women, or you can kick back and watch a feature film of a man getting possessed by his camera as he sleeps, apparently acting as a metaphor for heroin addiction. Perfect comfort watching that the whole family can enjoy.
The lower floors were much more our cup of tea. Many a famous work was on display by Dali, Ernst, Miro, and, of course, my boy, Pablo Picasso. Included, among others, was Guernica, his anti-war painting whose 349cm x 776cm dimensions means it towers over you. Granted, not exactly a complete tone change from the horrors upstairs, but I could have looked at this for hours. Picasso’s a fond favourite of mine and this work is widely regarded as one of his masterpieces. Looking at it, you feel dwarfed by the horrors before you. Truly breathtaking, and one of the most vividly powerful experiences I’ve ever had in a museum. I know Iris felt the same as we left the museum having enjoyed it while being emotionally burnt out.
We were soon due to head to Valencia, but not before stopping off at a local restaurant to enjoy a classic paella, and bloody delicious it was too. As we walked back we passed Plaza Mayor, a grand square not far away from where we lived, and so many locals were all dressed up for the San Isidro music festival, named after Madrid’s patron saint. Music came piping down the streets, past the bars and cafes where throngs of people were sat enjoying a bevvie or two. Being your young, hip and cool heroes, we did the only natural thing. That’s right, we went to bed as we had a train to catch the following day.
We took a short train ride over to Valencia. We were able to travel first class, which had very comfortable seats and lots of space, but it turns out you don’t get complimentary food or drinks like you do in the UK. Never have I looked so envious at a ham and cheese sandwich pulled from a catering cart, but we can’t have everything in life.
It was here we met our friends – Gwyn, Meg, Andy, and Georgia – who flew out to join us for a few days, and I must say it was absolutely delightful. We welcomed them to Spain with a homemade chicken and rabbit paella3 which was every bit delicious as it sounds. Afterwards we took a constitutional walk to the Ciudad de las Artes y Las Ciencias, a science museum housed in a truly glorious exterior, especially when it basks in the Spanish sunshine.
Walking this much in the heat was thirsty work, so we ensured to stop for a refreshing bevvie. Our friends introduced us to Agua de Valencia, a local cocktail made up of cava, orange juice, vodka, and gin. To me it tasted like a mimosa mixed with petrol but everyone else was happy to gulp it down, so maybe your tastes wouldn’t align with mine. I stuck with some delightful Riojas.
A side note: on the way back we ended up buying one of the largest watermelons I’d ever laid eyes on. It’d kill you if dropped from a big enough height. We were eating it up until yesterday.
Our destination the following day was the historic centre of Valencia. It was kind enough to be at its most Spanish as we saw several couples dancing in the shadow of the Torres de Serranos, one of the city’s two surviving gothic gates. It was good entertainment to watch from a nearby café with an Agua de Valencia in hand (or a cerveza if you’re me).
On this day and the following, we took in a few beautiful churches and some interesting museums, including the CCCC museum (its cloisters in particular are stunning) and the Silk Exchange, the former hub of economic activity in the city and whose marble halls and orange gardens are a glistening oasis in the middle of the old city.
For the following to make sense, you will need to know that Gwyn and Meg are emigrating to Australia shortly after this trip. As such, on our penultimate evening together, we all did the only thing that such an occasion needs – we made our own custom t-shirts free-hand that would celebrate our time with them while leaving onlookers with their jaws on the floor at our artistic skills. We’re available for custom fittings and bookings. I’m sure the phone will be constantly ringing.
We opted to head to the seafront for some dinner and drinks on our final night, and decided to take advantage of the rental bikes scattered throughout the city. It would be easy, we thought. There are purpose-built bike lanes everywhere. Cars have to stop at traffic lights purposefully made for cyclists. Surely there would be no issues on the three kilometre ride?
Turns out there were a few. As we cycled along, a bloke attempted to overtake us whilst (I’m not kidding) balancing on his bike a horizontal package that was as wide as a small van, all the while the struggle showing on his face. Proper Looney Tunes nonsense. Shouts to pull over, even in my broken Spanish, didn’t stop him, but thankfully no one succumbed to this one-man removal team. A van also cut me up at a crossroads. Maybe Jeremy Vine has a point in all those viral videos. That dinner and drinks couldn’t come soon enough for me!
After one wine too many and with bleary eyes and sore heads the following morning, it was sadly time to say goodbye to all the gang. To all of you, it was an absolute delight and pleasure seeing you, and my knee is doing a lot better. And best of luck to Gwyn and Meg moving to Australia! Take care in the heat and be sure to check the toilets for Black Widow Spiders. If the insect house in Bristol Zoo taught me anything, it’s that.
Iris and I headed to the train station where we’d begin a roughly six-hour journey cross-country to Badajoz, near the border of Portugal. Given the lack of complimentary food we ensured to bring our own chicken sandwiches on board, and given our lack of other options how much we liked them we ended up having them for two meals throughout the day. That’s first class living, baby!
Phew, we’re all caught up now. Now for a few chilled days in Badajoz before heading to Portugul to catch up with Lou and Hebe, a couple more of our friends. Social butterfly is our middle name. It was a hell of a coincidence when we found that out.
Two for the Road 
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