Spain 42 - Madrid /Mad Mad Madrid/queues everywhere/ripped off by the taxi driver

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Mad mad mad Madrid never quite expected it to be like this. I expected bustle, life rush and people but never expected to be ripped off. Work up late after the noise of the night before. It did however go quiet later as the weekenders packed up and left for home. Tents were taken down and a strange quietness descended on Camping International. In fact, it is fair to say it was lovely with a good supermercado that sold fresh milk , ice lollies and lovely hot croissants. Excellent sanitaires , a good bar and restaurant but note to myself never ever come on a Friday nor a Saturday . It is hell.

We had decided not to bother with Madrid but as we had time to spare we made the decision that the train station was just up the road and despite everything being closed due to it being a Monday it would be worth a visit to say we had been, we had seen the buildings , worn the t-shirt and bought the magnet. How would it compare with own capital London or Paris or even Rome I wondered?

First task after breakfast was to tackle the walk through the park to the town and then find the station. Although early it was still rather hot as we walked past the early morning fishermen. Arriving at the palace we thought we would find a sign post telling us where the estacion was. Nothing, nowt, zilch not a murmer. I asked a passing lady who told me 20 minutes straight up the road. We walked a while and stopped another guy just to confirm we were heading in the right direction. He confirmed straight on and the first right. Just at that point we spotted the car park which looked like a station one and not awfully salubrious. Round the corner a brick built Mudejar style station which looked out of keeping with the rest of Aranjuez. Inside it was full of wonder with fantastic ceilings and light fittings and a state of the art ticket machine. Sadly I struggled to work out which one to use and had to resort to good timely fashion of using the ticket office. However I got stuck behind a queue and the train was in. A ticket inspector caught me by the arm and guided me to the machine “to where “ he said. “Madrid” said I. He touched the screen and brought up Atocha station . “Atocha “ he asked. “Yes please mucho gracias” ..”Return “ “Of course”. He took my money and put it in the machine and out belched the tickets. He left me with the words “Platform 5”. The train left on time. The testosterone filled young filled the carriages touching each other, kissing and hugging all the way to Madrid. The final part of the journey was taken up with a beggar who spoke for some while quite eloquently and showed photographs. He appeared to be selling paper handkerchiefs. Some folks purchased them . Others brushed him away like an irritating fly.

After 35 minutes we arrived in Purgatory . We have been in many railway stations but nothing compared to this. Organised chaos with folks pushing and shoving down narrow walkways and up escalators. No clear evidence of a way out. The concourses went on and on. In the middle shops, cafes, small outlets selling all manner of things. A green area with jungle plants that could have put the Eden Project to shame and a lake with terrapins. We stopped off at a café for a drink in order to try to make some sense of the place. The waitresses even looked at me oddly when I tried to pay. This must have been the first railway café I could have quite happily walked out of and not paid for my drinks. Madness all around. And it got worse as we left the station. We had little idea where we were nor how to get to the Playa Mayor the centre of the city. Glenn had a map but forgot to look at it . It had a scale on the bottom of 1” to 250 metres which meant that the centre was roughly 1 km away 20 minutes walking up Calle de Atocha. In the end we caught a vigilante the security guard and asked how far and how to get there. He shrugged – get a taxi. Now this was easier said than done. We could see the taxis a string like a snake running all the way round the building but finding the front was not easy. It kept moving. We walked up the hill. Still no start to the line and then around the block. Eventually we found the front – Taxi please – have you ordered one? No – then not here . Eventually we did find the front and joined a free for all. I asked the driver how much and got no reply just a shrug – get in – which we did . Big mistake . The meter had 2 euros 50 on it before we moved an inch. We got caught in the queues of taxis and every light was on red . At each one the meter had moved on by 50 cents. By the time he got to the ring road we were on 5 euros and rising. I consulted the map. Glenn said we are off to Toledo. He seemed to be taking us round the houses . He said to us he could not go straight and had to go round the ring round. Mugs I thought . He is taking us for mugs . 13 euros . Eventually we arrived at the cathedral and the Palacio Real . He presented us with the bill 14 euros 25 plus another 4 for picking us up at the station. Did I feel mugged ? Too right . Intoduction to Madrid not a good one. This was added to the guy who waited for me to exit the station and barged past me knocking me to the ground. Was he trying to get to his train quickly I wondered or was he trying to get on without paying? Not a good start . Welcome to Madrid!!!!! First thoughts not that brilliant.

We walked to the playa mayor and found a large square with open spaces surrounded by shops and cafés and the most oddest of public buildings. At the same time Glenn and I said the same thing although in a slightly different way. I said “it would look right in Austria or Belgium or Switzerland “ Glenn piped up “It would look right in Brussels or Brugge”. It was a lovely square and was bustling with street entertainers playing better music than normal. Guitarists and accordionist . The usual living statues and a strange man in a fancy costume doing something very odd . Matador costumes and flamenco costumes lined up for the obligatory photo opportunity. We ate pizza from a street café not half as good as Gib washed down by lemon and strawberry granola. This square felt nothing like normal Spain.

From here we tried to find ground zero an area that marked the spot where all mileage around Spain is calculated . We tried to find the famous bear statue . We tried to catch the tourist bus . No sign of Ground Zero nor the bear and the tourist bus was heaving.

The palace looked interesting a more masculine building than that at Aranjeuz but the queues were out of the door, round the street and we did not feel like waiting . According to Rough Guide it should have been shut . Mondays are dead days in Spain. Not so things have changed . We could not believe our eyes to find places open that Rough Guide said were firmly shut. The cathedral next door was Baroque , large and sprawling and boasted a crypt with many columns. We passed it by with just a cursory glance. Time to head home. We had had enough of the city .

Walking back was not half as bad as we expected . Downhill all the way and it did take us only 20 minutes . It made us realise just how much the taxi guy had ripped us off. Atocha station again. More mad crowds and a problem finding our train home. We have managed Rome , we have had no trouble with Naples, nor have we struggled with Milan or Turin but Madrid. Wow is it designed to confuse. I called in to the nice man at reception and asked if he could tell me where to catch my train home. He was less than nice . Miserable in fact as he directed me half heartedly to the boards outside . One side showed departures and the other arrivals . I couldnt see Aranjuez anywhere . Back I walked - lets try again . Nice smile "Can you help me? I need the train to Aranjuez" Black board he said . OUtside he told me to go and look for myself . I gave up with a sense of distaste. Not the best way to treat a tourist We went for walk through the station looking for clues. Eventually we found a lovely lady and I asked again " How do I get to Aranjuez. She looked a tad lost . I gave her my ticket and showed her where I wanted to go - Ah she said Aranchweth. She smiled at my attempt and slowly said Aaaaa rannnnn chwayth and pointed to the train . so now I realise phonetically I pronouced it wrong and my name forever shall be Qwennifer.

You learn something new when you travel . At least now I know how pronounce it properly . Would we go back again? I don't know. We did not see it at its best to be sure. Perhaps a weekend there or a few days. Fly in Fly out. Avoid Atocha station. Make for all the decent museums and see it in a more leisurely fashion.

Hedar Bejar said "The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose". Well I guess all those pesky people we met and ripped us off today must have a stink on their hands today.

When I got back I fell into conversation with our next door neighbours a couple from Leeds who had been in to Madrid on the same train as us. They had biked to the station and had little trouble getting in to the palace. They were going in again tomorrow to try to get tickets for Prado. We on the other hands were heading for the hills .

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