The kids had a long
weekend the first of November. Despite rules separating church from state,
November 1st, is all Souls day and a holiday. Since it fell on a
Thursday, the state and local offices enjoy a floating holiday and viola; we had
a 4-day weekend. We decided to return to Madrid since, without Tom, 4 days with
everything closed could feel like an eternity. I picked the children up early from
school and we caught the luxury Supra coach to Madrid. Supra tickets are double
the normal price and while JT qualified for a discount, Zoe was full fare. In
addition to movies, they serve snacks, bon-bons, and beverages including wine
and a separate coffee service. It reminded me of the time Tom and I took the
Chunnel 1st class from London to Paris. The woman providing the
service was especially nice to the children, encouraging them to take more
candy. The bus even offered WIFI, although service was a bit spotty.
This time around, we opted for a
hotel smack in the heart of the tourist district. Our hotel was part of the
same chain as the one we stayed last time and was also an “Apart” hotel. Rather
than a full apartment, we booked a large room with a tiny kitchen built into a
space about the size of master bedroom closet circa 1970. While tiny, it
offered a 2 burner stove, a microwave and a full complement of dishes for 2,
including a white table cloth and matching napkins. Despite looking out over
Gran Via, our room was surprisingly quiet and had a window that actually
opened.
After our 4.5 hour journey, the
computer was out of juice, so recharging it was a priority. Here we ran into
trouble. When we plugged it in, we heard a pop and lights went out. We found
the fuse box by the door, but in the dark we couldn’t figure out which one to
flip. The guys at the front desk were nice, but seemed to think I was a
dimwitted female tourist. They patiently explained that we needed an adapter to
use the electricity. DUH! I was vindicated when the valet confirmed that indeed
it was the plug itself that was broken and restored power.
Our next order of business was to go
out for ice cream, an excursion which took much longer than expected. Madrid
seems to be more of pastry town than ice cream. While a number of famous
patisseries exist, we were hard pressed to find an ice cream shop. Compared to
Granada, the offerings were a bit scarce, significantly more expensive and not
as good. After scoping out the nearby offerings we settled on one and then
headed back to the hotel to sleep.
Friday morning we ventured out to
the Rastro flea market. The name “Rastro” meaning “trail” is said to
have evolved from the bloody marks left on the street from the cattle being transported
to nearby tanneries. Apparently, the market has been operating in Madrid since
the Middles Ages and has the distinction of being one of the largest in Europe
with over 3,500 stalls. There were definitely fewer stalls than that, probably
since we were there on a Thursday and a cold snap had just hit the city.
Normally, the market is only open Sundays and holidays. It’s a combination of
true flea market selling used and antique furniture, records, cassettes,
clothes, and handicrafts such as jewelry, purses, belts and low priced items.
Zoe bought some Christmas gifts and I found a cool Spanish t-shirt.
Saturday was Zoe’s birthday and we
headed to the Reina Sofia to see Guernica, Picasso’s most famous work. The
surrounding exhibits showed other art produced during the time of the Spanish
civil war as well as magazine covers and other propaganda on both sides of the
war. We saved Guernica for last and while impressive, the kids were flummoxed
by it.
Afterwards we went for churros. I
found a “locals” place that was reviewed as having some of the tastiest
chocolate to accompany the churros. First, the waiter brought a basket of fried
dough. We ordered 2 types, one type was thin, teardrop shaped and somewhat
cakelike and the other unabashedly fried dough of the variety found at the
Italian fairs of my childhood. These were accompanied by cups of old-fashioned
hot chocolate: the drink that preceded the bar…the drink that came to Europe by
way of the Americas and was served at royal parties in Spain. It was thick,
super rich and so unbelievably decadent that Zoe actually couldn’t finish hers.
Afterwards, for giggles, we rode the teleferico, a cable car suspended above
the park, and enjoyed seeing the fall colors.
That night I had reservations at a
nearby Bistro to celebrate Zoe’s birthday. We were running a tad late, so when
I arrived I unthinkingly blurted in English out that we had a reservation for a
table of 3. This earned us an English menu. Bummer! But Zoe and JT ordered and
asked questions about the food in their best Spanish and when it was time to
order dessert, the waitress brought us Spanish menus. Shockingly, the kids
ordered more chocolate for dessert. It was rather large sampler, which the
waitress kindly advised us. Zoe was in the bathroom so I let the waitress know
that they could both order one as it was a special occasion. She very sweetly
put a candle in Zoe’s and we all sang Happy Birthday to her (adorably inflamed
face).
We awoke to the sound of torrential
rain (again). Fortunately, the worst part of the storm seemed to have passed
during the early morning hours and we only had to deal with a light drizzle. We
were heading back to Granada late afternoon, so we checked out, leaving our
luggage at the hotel. Our last stop was the Thyssen Art Museum (Thyssen of
elevator and escalator fame). Apparently, the rain made this a popular choice and
the queues were ridiculous even right at opening. (Although by the time we left,
they were triple the size). It was worth the wait, however, as the collection
was vast and contained works by nearly every famous western painter. My one
regret was that we did not see the special Gaugin exhibit, since it was sold
out. This irked me terribly because when we arrived in Malaga last September
the same exhibit was there. In Malaga everyone is in beach mode so it was very
lightly attended and we didn’t go.
Our trip back to the bus station was
a little too exciting for my taste. We made the mistake eating lunch in a
restaurant, budgeting an hour when it took 90 minutes. This would have
been fine, but we didn’t account for the time it took to pick up our bags. We
had to wait an additional 10 minutes at the hotel because the guy at the front
desk was alone. After a stressful Metro ride, we arrived just 10 minutes before
our bus departed. We took the normal coach bus back which unfortunately stopped
for a 30 minute break in the middle of nowhere. On the bright side, they offered
movies, a bonus when the computer’s batteries ran out again. Back in Granada,
we spent a leisurely Sunday recuperating: waking at 9:30, enjoying the relative
warmth of the southern climate and playing around with some painting of our
own. It was definitely the right choice to head out of town.
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