Rising to the Occasion of Guernica

Today we planned on getting up early and heading to the Centro De Arte Reina Sofia.  I rose by 9:00 a.m. and waited for Charles, which took two more hours.  So, out of the apartment by 12:30, we proceeded to the metro for the first time.

It was surprisingly the same as the others in France, so we were able to figure it out.  It was actually easier to navigate than we anticipated.  The hardest part was figuring out how to pay as half the machines were down and the other half would not accept my credit card.  We finally found the one that takes coins and put them in and "voilà" or "aquí estás".  Off to the races or the musee in our case.

The metro was surprisingly clean as is most of Madrid.  There are workers everywhere sweeping and blowing.  And they need to be as it is a busy big city!  So up out of the metro we come and we stand before the Renfe train station.  It is big and beautiful and very busy.

Department of Agriculture

Just around the corner is the musee Reina Sofia.  Very modern and old at the same time, the building was an old center that was made into a gallery.  Then added on a very modern building of red and steel to house special collections, stores, libraries and a restaurant.

Seeing Picasso, Dali and Miro up close is very different than studying the books.  The history of the era is alive in the photos and paintings and sculptures.  Some of the drawings depicted pain so real, I had to walk away.  Hitler and Franco devastation in art form.  There is a long political history of the use of art to put forth political ideas, but I am way too ignorant of both art and history to espouse upon it here.  We stayed for three hours in the musee and walked many corridors.

We emerged and Charles wanted to check out the inside of the train station before returning to the apartment.  We strolled through and identified that we wanted to take a taxi so as not to have to drag bags up and down the stairwells.

We decided to go to the Plaza de Espana so that Charles could see the Don Quijote and Sancho Panza statutes on the Torre.  The trip was for not, as the Torre Madrid was surrounded by Navidad stalls and you could not even approach near the Torre.

Awe the map!

We realized how close we were to the apartment and walked back arm in arm.  The day did not grow colder as usual.  It stayed fairly moderate.  And except for locking the neighbor out (we share a locked hallway) the night was calm.  I miss my phone though....

Rising to the Occasion of the Map and Being lost in Madrid

Saturday night and early Sunday morning could not have been louder.  The clanging of bottles from nearby restaurants into the recycle bins was relentless.  And then, just when you thought sleep was upon you, the garbage trucks rolled in.  The reason they come that late is easily explained, they absolutely could not possibly get in the road for the throngs of Navidad revelers.  My respect to the men and women cleaning the streets of Madrid.  Our late rising is of course due to the late retiring.

We picked out locations for the day and headed out.  Starting with the west side of Madrid and heading to the Palacio Real.

The thing about using a tour book, is that it is published in a place in time.  The reality of boots on the ground is subject to the local construction schedule,  Which is everywhere.  When buildings and streets are this old, something is always in a state of restoration.  Not to be deterred we made it to the the Plaza de la Ameria. It is the space between the most expansive palace that I have ever seen and the largest cathedral in Madrid.  We stopped next to a couple in trekking sandals and socks to take pictures.  Th unfortunate part of this visit is the balcony overlooking the entire City was under construction and you could not look out to the beautiful Campo Park.  We did go north to the Camp Del Moro gardens with the long reflection pond and lovely gardens and statutes.  Charles said that he saw the aerial trams crossing the large park, but we could not figure out how to get there to ride them.  The views must utterly beautiful based on what we could see from the palace.

We then headed back down Calle Mayor because somehow we had missed the Plaza Mayor itself.  We were to miss it again as we don't know which of us made the turn, but we ended up far south and east from our destination.  We had originally thought we would go to the Plaza and then down to the El Rastro flea market of some fame.

But, alas, we headed down a wrong path leading us to quite different neighborhoods than before.  The changes were subtle, then I noticed there were fewer and fewer children, more young adults and a much different vibe. Many closed disco bars and small mercados. It reminded me of parts of Costa Rica.  There was no Feliz Navidad in the air, in fact there was curry in the air and the Indian restaurants were streetside, with cooking going on by the tables.  We realized that we were not in the tourist district and stopped to look at the map.  Unfortunately, our street and tiny plaza was not on the map or in the guidebook.  Quandaries and druthers.

We walked toward the setting sun and Charles decided which way was north and we headed out.  when we reached the Laviapes Plaza, we had a location.  Whew!  Darkness was soon and we had walked miles from our apartment.  Not speaking Spanish is definitely a huge disadvantage.  However, we did get to see a Michael Jackson act.

When we finally figured out where we were and how far it was, there was nothing else to do but duck into a pastry shop and drink hot coffee and eat empanadillas.  They were fabulous. I practiced how to order, went up to the counter and said it correctly (so I thought).  The lovely person behind the counter says, "you mean this one?"  So much for my Spanish.  We ate with glee.  All things taste better after duress, stress and then relief.

Last night, after eating we went downstairs to the little bar.  We bought a bottle of wine and I ordered what I thought were baked plums.  Turns out the  waiter was saying "prawns" and we ate shrimp for desert.  In case you ever need to know, gambas are prawns!  But the wine was excellent, the company great and the sleep of a Sunday night so very welcome.