THURSDAY 31 JULY
Arrived Madrid just after 5pm yesterday, so that would be noon Grenada time… The BA flight from Heathrow was great – only 2.5hours but we were feted with ‘oak smoked ham and mature cheddar cheese flatbread sandwich’ and a red wine from Madrid. Regret no photos… too hungry. That’s the way to fly! Flying over Madrid it was yards and yards of 50 shades of brown; brown with patches of ochre, sienna (burnt and raw), umber… you get the picture. The rain in Spain has had words with Madrid.
I am in line at immigration, and the officer calls me over. Looks at my passport and says – hebles espanol? I say, lo siento no. Ingles. He says to his comrade? ….something something Granada? I pipe up… no grAnada, it is grEnada. In the Caribbean, not Espana. I take it that the BA humbug with the two countries will not translate well so I don’t bother. He looks at me smiles, stamps the passport. No questions. Big smile. Welcome to Madrid. 40 seconds in total.
The airport is an architectural wonder… and space for so to put art. Ginormous is a good word to describe the size. The place is also a nightmare for someone like me, who, despite good directional signage, will insist on getting lost. Here is a photo of a piece of artwork that graced one of the walls on a lower floor… on the way to clear baggage. Of course I stopped to take the photo, and everyone else went about their business, and I when I got over admiring the artwork, I was alone in a huge space. So I went forward… eventually got my bag and found the bus to take me to the Plaza de Cibeles, my drop off point for the hotel.
I wrote my directions on a sheet… and halfway up the road, got disoriented. It is hot in Madrid, so add that, plus severe tiredness, and the 2 or was it 3 small bottles of vino courtesy BA… I nearly called a taxi. Commonsense took over, and I Buenos Tardes a passerby, who told me to cross the street and take a left. So I busy to cross the street, and nearly got runover by a taxi.
Five minutes later, I am in the street but cannot for the love and need of a cold shower, find the blinking hotel. I saw a photo online so I know what to look for, but the building is hiding. As in art, you get a better perspective of your painting if you put it in front of a mirror, or turn it upside down, or walk away a bit. So I walk down the street, and turn around, and voila, there is the building. The sign is on the other side way about my head. Ha! Shower close at hand.
Room 007 Ventura Hostel
What followed is a blur of quick check in, shower, drinking half a litre of water, and lying down for just 5 minutes because the Sofia museum opens late and is free of charge.
And what happened next is that I woke up this morning just after 7.
Summary of my morning’s events since then – walkabout the city, with a map. Got lost several times, but no hurry. Went to a mass in progress at one of the many churches here. Saw the memorial to the 1977 Massacre of Atocha – when 5 lawyers were killed. Managed to get back to the hotel. Writing this blog. Off to see the Sofia Museum.
Walkabout with the Memorial of the 1977 Massacre behind
Have a great day!