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Published: August 1st 2010
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View from above
The window of our room at Hotel Emperador - entirely free of any restraint to keep someone from plummeting to the Gran Via below. But hey, great view! I thought it had rained when I stepped out the Hotel Emperador’s front door onto the Gran Via this morning around 8.
Turns out it wasn’t a downpour that had cleansed Madrid’s primary shopping thoroughfare, it was a crew of men wearing black rubber boots and reflective green vests. Walking alongside a large tanker truck carrying a high-powered fire hose they were systematically removing refuse and grime from the previous night’s festivities, which extended enthusiastically until at least 3 a.m., when Vanessa and I finally called it a night.
We aren’t generally the types to be out partying until 3 a.m., but Madrid is a vibrant place and it had us energized. And, of course, there was the matter of the 7-hour nap we took in the middle of the day (we’ve taken the whole siesta concept to the extreme). Granted, I hadn’t slept since the car ride to Philadelphia International (yes, Vanessa was driving, not me), which, by my calculations, means I was awake for 73 hours straight. Trust me, this is correct. The whole time zone thing is very confusing, so just take my word for it and don’t try to crunch the numbers yourself.
Prior
Headed Out
Fresh from a 7-hour siesta and ready to see what Madrid nightlife has to offer to said mega-siesta, we had ventured out into the city with little or no agenda, which will be our mode of operation for this entire trip. We stopped for coffee at a chocolateria and couldn’t leave without sampling the churros y chocolate - long, tubular pieces of fried dough (that’s the churro) whose entire reason for being is to provide a vehicle for thick, hot liquid chocolate. Unlike the churros street vendors sell in Mexico, these weren’t covered in sugar. They actually had a bit of a salty flavor, which made them a perfect complement to the dark, sweet chocolate. I showed incredible restraint not to drink the entire cup.
Fueled by caffeine and cacao, we decided to check out the Salvador Dali collection at the Reina Sofia art museum. One euro apiece got us on the metro, which was super clean and easy to manage. Two blocks walk from the famous Atocha train station and the surprisingly impressive façade of the Ministry of Agriculture we found the museum. For the first time since our arrival we noticed that it’s pretty darn hot when you venture out of the shade. The forecast said it would be 101 degrees, but with
Boquerones en vinagreta
Delicious strips of white sardine in a vinegar and parsley marinade, topped with Spanish olives. a pretty consistent breeze it doesn’t feel nearly as hot as that sounds.
The Dali prints were extremely impressive up close and in person - I was amazed at how many different images you see in the same painting as you examine it from different distances and angles. The museum is huge and has many, many of other pieces, including a ton of Picasso (Guernica is the centerpiece), but neither of us can take too much art at one time. Forty minutes perusing the Dali pieces was perfect, and as my lack of sleep started to catch up with me we made our way back to the metro and headed for the hotel.
Mid siesta we got a knock on the door. I assumed it was housekeeping and told them we didn’t need any service, but the employee politely persisted - he had a gift for us, compliments of the hotel. Quickly racking up points toward all-time-best-ever-hotel status, the Emperador had provided us with a bottle of Cava (Spanish champagne) on ice, along with assorted fine chocolates. Day one in Spain was going very well indeed!
Before popping the cork on the Cava, my conspiracy-minded (but extremely
Nice gambas!
Vanessa enjoying her gambas al ajillo (shrimp cooked in olive oil and garlic). cute) wife made me go down and confirm with reception that they sent the champagne and not internet terrorists looking to poison us and film our deaths from cameras in the building across the street for the world to see on YouTube. After nearly 7 years with Vanessa I’ve learned not to attempt debunking these theories with logic or probability statistics. Much easier to just put shoes on and go to the reception desk.
So, going out to dinner was delayed a bit but we hit the streets with cava in our bloodstreams and smiles on our faces. At an outdoor table in front of a seafood restaurant along the Gran Via we enjoyed small plates of boquerones en vinagreta (sardines in vinegar and parsley) and gambas al ajillo (shrimp cooked in olive oil, garlic and chile pepper). Both were excellent and it felt good not to leave the table overstuffed.
A quick trip from the Santo Domingo metro station took us into the heart of the La Latina district, where we tracked down a bar called La Solea. I’d read in numerous blogs and travel pieces that this nondescript hole in the wall on Cava Baja was
The streets of Madrid
The street signs here are classy! a great place to hear authentic flamenco, performed by singers who stop in nightly to put on impromptu shows accompanied by the house guitarist. Sounded right up our alley. Several folks who had written about la Solea said it was easy to miss, but we found it without a problem. Unfortunately, it had closed (permanently, according to the bartender at a place across the street).
Unperturbed, we took the Buddhist approach and followed a path other than the one we’d anticipated. That eventually led us to a small table in a private nook of the Tablao Flamenco Arco de Cuchilleros, where we sipped sangria as a group of young dancers put on an inspired performance without all the fanfare and over-the-top costumes of the bigger, tourist-driven flamenco houses.. They had us clapping along and stomping our feet like we knew what we were doing. Others in the audience actually did - one couple got up and danced with the troupe. Vanessa, it should be noted, is committed to getting me on stage before our time here is up, and she’ll likely succeed.
Our night wrapped up with a Metro trip back to Santo Domingo and a walk around
Puerta de Alcala
Once the main entryway to the city a surprisingly busy Plaza España, which seems to be a popular gathering place for folks who have left the bars but still want to hang out and talk (or sing, as we found).
Falling asleep was not a problem after a full first day in Spain! Looking forward to Day 2 and our drive into Galicia, Spain’s far northwest corner. This former stronghold of the Visigoths in post-Roman Spain is famous for its seafood, lush greenery and Celtic influence.
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