...again.
Madrid is my happy place. This is my fourth visit. When I emerged from the metro at Tribunal for the short walk to my apartment, it almost felt like a homecoming. To be quite honest it felt more like a homecoming here than it did when I got off the ferry in North Shields at the end of my last trip. I wonder if I'll end up retiring to Spain one day? I doubt I'll be able to afford Madrid, but I could happily settle for one of the smaller towns around Valencia or Alicante.
I spent a whole month here during my six-month Spanish Lockdown Odyssey of 2020/21, and I think those are the memories that will always linger: autumn leaves, quiet streets, half-empty bars, no tourists. Things have obviously livened back up a bit since then, and sadly those fire-sale accommodation prices are but a distant memory, but I can't complain. I'm staying on the border of the Chueca and Malasaña districts, where pretty much every door opens into a stylish little bar or cafe, offering tastefully subdued music and agreeably inexpensive alcohol, and full of well-behaved beautiful people (who have the good grace not to complain when I walk in).
Disappointingly I have once again failed to synchronise my visit with any footballing action, either at Real or Atlético. Also disappointingly, the craft beer revolution appears to have suffered a final defeat here. The bottle shops have less on offer now than they did back in 2017, and you can spend all night trawling round city centre bars without ever finding anything independent or locally-brewed, or indeed any IPAs at all. There are still a few places for determined beer nerds but you really have to hunt them out.
So what can I bore you all with, if not with football or beer? I'm on the road again now until Christmas. I'll think of something in time for the next blog.
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| Plaza Mayor. Hastily capturing the one brief bit of sunshine since I've been here. |
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| Almudena Europe's largest cementery. Those things in the middle that look like houses - they're not. Every "window" is a grave, lined up like sleeping capsules in a Japanese hotel. |
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| Looking south over the Arco de Triunfo from the Faro tower. (Faro means 'lighthouse') |
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| Uncle Pepe's Bottled Andalusian Sunshine, at the Puerta del Sol |
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| On The Street Where I Live (Calle de San Vicente Ferrer in Malasaña) |
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| From the memoirs of Laurie Lee ('Cider With Rosie'), who walked across Spain in 1934. Obviously the reference to licencing laws, ie British pubs kicking everyone out at 3pm on a Sunday, is out of date. Otherwise, it's still basically true today. |
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| Edd vs Food #128 Posh pasties at Empanadas Malvón They do a special deal when you buy three at a time. It was an easy choice for me. The mushroom, vegan and BBQ ones all ruled themselves out automatically. |
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| Edd vs Food #129 Late brekkie at Cerveceria Rayal, near the Plaza de España. Sometimes I think it's worth coming to Spain just to get tortilla in the mornings. This one was perfect: a little crispy on the outside yet still runny & eggy in the middle. Not like the imitation ones you buy in UK supermarkets... ...which are basically just potato and hard-boiled eggs mashed together. |
