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Considering we need to get ‘home’ every night by 7pm at the latest to ensure that Kaspar doesn’t melt down we are pretty happy with what we are managing to get in everyday. If you ever take the advice of the Lonely Planet or a local tourist office walking tour, and you are able bodied and your mind and camera can take it, you can probably take in about 3 days worth of sights in about 8 hours!
Today was no different for us. We took the unique opportunity of being here on a Sunday to go to church…nah, just kidding, we went to the Madrid flea markets. On the way to the markets we stood in the middle of a reasonably full metro. It was great fun to watch both sides of the cab compete for Kaspar’s attentions and laughs by pulling funny faces, poking out tongues and waving. The Spanish really love children, and Kaspar is a crowd favourite, just partly because he is probably a little bit freakish here being a pale skinned strawberry blonde, but primarily because he is just so damn cute. On our first night here, a complete stranger (incidentally she was probably only
about 12), literally took Kaspar off our hands while we had dinner at a food court (for a moment we were tempted to go and sample some of Madrid’s unending nightlife, something we will definitely do next time we are here)…we’ve had people stop us in the street/in churches/in the metro so they could say hello to Kaspar…people have grabbed Kaspar’s arms/legs (probably because they’re so chubby) and given him an endearing squeeze. Spain is a place where the family, and children, are such an overtly important part of society and everyday life.
The markets are two, sometimes 4 blocks wide, and about six or seven or even more blocks long, this market was an absolute myriad of tourist wares, old brass knockers, and dodgy characters trying to make friends with Singaporean tourists by purporting to be visiting from Chile . A little unnerving while breast feeding to say the least.
It’s been an open air market for half a millennium and is supposedly the biggest in Europe. It’s probably not far wrong, and despite the throngs of people if you can see your way past the crap there
is something here for everyone, and at a reasonable price.
Sarah and Gabor felt they needed a little something to assimilate into the Spanish day to day culture so they dove in and they each bought a pair of oversized super cool sunglasses…now no one will tell we are tourists!
We bugged out of that area after grabbing some lunch to go and make the most of our metro passes by criss crossing town for the afternoon to take in a few random sights as and when we saw appropriate (unfortunately we didn’t have the chance to take in the Bernabeu, but there’s always the Nou Camp in Barcelona). For all those who don’t watch soccer they are the home grounds of Real Madrid and FC Barcelona.
On the tube ride to the Plaza Cibeles eagle eye Webster P.I. (you may have been fortunate enough to see the pilot in the early 80’s, just prior to Magnum P.I. making it big on the small screen) managed to thwart one of the oldest pick pocketing attempts known to man. The old 3-man-block (plus one ‘lookout’)-coupled-with-the-rummage-through-the-purse-pen-drop manoeuvre. Both Sarah and Gabor had one hand steadying themselves on a hand hold
in the metro and the other on their respective baguettes. The four surprisingly elderly thieves approached and immediately attracted attention by bustling in on an empty metro cab. Sarah and Gabor knew something was up immediately. Gabor thrust out the elbow to ensure his blocker couldn’t get too close, while Sarah kept a wide stance as another tried to muscle her into a corner. As the pen drop was enacted Sarah watched the other old bird stoop to the ground and attempt a sleight of Gabor’s right pocket. Sarah gave her the veritable “what for” while Gabor appreciated that all she would’ve earned herself was a well used tourist map of Madrid. Come on senors and senoritas, you’ll have to get up a whole lot earlier to catch out these frequent flyers!
So again, upon our arrival at Plaza Cibeles we found an even smaller poo-free patch of grass (they are bloody hard to come by in Madrid as they love their dogs but not cleaning up after them - almost as bad as Paris) to lunch in front of some magnificent Madrid landmarks. We then wandered up to the biggest door in Madrid - La Puerta de Alcala
(these guys know how to make doors, well doorways really) and then past the Museo del Prada (we’ll have to go inside next time we’re in town) towards the Atocha train station, where the Madrid terrorist bombings were two year ago.
Finally we ended up in one of Madrid’s dodgiest parks - Parque de la Montana - to check out one of the few panoramic views afforded of the city; where there’s a temple - the Temple de Debod (a-loobob-a-whap-bam-boom) - all the way from Egypt which was brought back and reassembled stone by stone. We’re not sure if it was a gift or this was the start of Madrid’s legendary pick pocketing. On the way to the metro we cruised past Madrid’s finest tribute to The don and Cervantes in the Plaza de Espana.
We had two full on days in Madrid and saw more than we can currently comprehend. It’s an awesome town and in a way much like Paris - you could keep coming back here and spend week after week exploring a new part of town. Just take your cargo shorts and ensure that you got your money zipped up real tight - they
may not be that subtle but if you’ve got a baby in one hand, your holding onto a rail in the metro and you’re taking care of more than one baguette then you may find yourself being a victim.
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