Not Much to do in Madrid? A Weeklong Solo Visit
 

Early in 2017 I started planning a trip to Spain with my sister, my absolute favorite destination. It was to be her 1st time in Spain so we (mostly I) struggled to find an itinerary that would fit her 10 available days, give her a chance to savor a few of the many flavors of the country, and yet remain a relaxing experience.

Knowing her likes, Barcelona was a given, but what else to add? Sevilla, Madrid, Granada, Toledo, Avila... the possibilities were endless. After a lot of back and forth we settled on a Barcelona and Granada itinerary.

We had it all planned. Hard-to-get reservations were made.

Husband would go a week before me to Switzerland to see his family and deal with the practicalities of life as an expat. Sis would be traveling from Las Vegas to Barcelona, and I would travel from San Juan de Puerto Rico to meet her there. We would be spending a leisurely week in BCN and then we would both fly to Granada to spend a few more days together. Sis would return to Vegas and I would stay solo before it was time to relocate to Málaga for two weeks of R&R with the hubs.

It was a good plan. A great plan.

And then Hurricane María happened 10 days before my scheduled departure. Yeah….. that was so not fun.

That was how my sister wound up having an unexpected solo trip. And us? Stuck at home dealing with scenes more appropriate to The Walking Dead.

Let’s just say that I do not care to repeat the 3 months which followed and leave it at that.

As things slowly began to improve around us in the San Juan area, and the ‘new normal’ began to set in, the hubs and I could finally start making new travel plans.

We decided on a 2-week trip to Switzerland for him to take care of everything he still had pending, a 1-week solo trip for me somewhere, and then a leisurely month in Málaga for both.

I never really planned to spend a full week in Madrid. I was going to use Barajas as a gateway airport to a more ‘exciting’ destination. I mean, having been to the city several times (both for work and leisure), how much more could there be so see?

But as I started listing the new (to me) things I wanted to see or revisit (it had been at least 10-years since I visited last), my spreadsheet began to fill up rather quickly. Alarmingly quick. After only a couple of days of research it looked like I barely had enough time to squeeze in a daytrip or two. Interesting, I thought.

How is it that people say that Madrid takes 3 days tops?

>>> How is it that people say that Madrid takes 3 days tops?
It depends on what interest people. The right answer is that there is no one answer even though that question is posed practically every day here - the belief that there is one-size-fits-all right number of days per location.

We spent a four nights in Madrid. Throw in a day trip to Cuenca or Segovia, plus maybe a couple of nights in Toledo, and you're in business. Check out Chapters 14 - 20 for Toledo and Madrid. We loved our time in España. Have a GinTonic for us. Picture of Toledo from tourist train (gl late in the afternoon.

https://travelswithmaitaitom.com/spain-2015/

((H))

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Saturday, April 5th, Day 1:

I arrived at 10:30am on a direct and blessedly quiet flight from San Juan on Iberia. Entirely forgettable flight. The good kind of flight.

There are many cheap and efficient transportation options, but for a €25 flat fee for a taxi from airport to downtown, it was money well spent not to haul luggage up and down metro stations or waiting around for the shuttle/bus.

I’m a rather frugal traveler but I have recently come to terms with the fact that taking a taxi here and there will greatly enhance the overall experience.

Of course, the room was not ready when I arrived at Hostal Lisboa as I had not bothered (shame on ME) to inform them of my early arrival. I checked in my luggage into their lockers and I was able to take off. I walked to close by Puerta del Sol, happily joining in a demonstration (there is ALWAYS as demonstration) to support the rights of trans children (a cause dear to my heart and family).

After hanging around a bit and taking pictures with the glorious blue sky as a background, I went down to the metro to purchase a card and load it with the 10-trip fee. I love, love, LOVE the Madrid metro. But maybe that’s just me coming from a place where public transportation ranges from utterly unpredictable to inexistent.

There was ONE thing I wanted to do on this day: visit Museo Sorolla. When I was working on The Spreadsheet I realized that its location is not convenient to mix and match with other sights. But it fit in with my early arrival and desire to keep a simple agenda on Day 1.

I was excited. Until I saw the humongous line in front on the museum.

Of course I had not pre-purchased tickets. It WAS arrival day after all. Unpredictable. Still wanted to kick myself.

I had not really had breakfast, so I went to restaurant next door to grab a coffee and a tuna tostada while trying to gather my enthusiasm. The line was huge but much to my relief I could see that it moved rather fast as they let in large groups of people each time. I settled and let that good Spanish coffee do its job.

I had visited this gem of a house museum years ago when I was working my way through Maribel’s Guide to Madrid (never fails!). I was short on time, it had been super crowded on a Sunday afternoon, and -though I loved it- I just felt like I had not gotten enough of it. It was unfinished business.

Now I had the chance for a leisurely visit! It had been granted a top priority rating on The Spreadsheet.

There was also another thing. The cherry on top. They had opened a temporary exhibit: ‘Sorolla y la moda’ (Sorolla and Fashion), presented in conjunction with the Thyssen-Bornemiza museum.

In the spirit of full disclosure: I’m a sucker for house museums. I just love them. Particularly artist’s houses. So you need to take my ravings with a grain of salt, but the Sorolla Museum might be my absolute favorite.

I adore Sorolla’s paintings but not being a fashion aficionada, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed looking at the beautiful period dresses, hats, shoes, and elegant accessories. All objects were beautifully curated to match the ones depicted in the paintings as much as possible.

I had not planned to return to the Thyssen on this trip, but the Sorolla Museum portion was so good that I had to see the entire exposition.

Not even 12 hours on the ground and The Spreadsheet was already in need of revision.

When planning the remaining portion of Day 1, I had givien myself several options to allow for how energetic or brain dead I would feel. I have traveled enough to know that this is unpredictable. But I was going strong! So instead of going back to the hotel, I went down to the Metro and headed towards La Latina neighborhood intending to check off the second ‘inconvenient’ site of the day.

The Real Basilica de San Francisco el Grande is not only also a bit out of the way/difficult to group with other attractions, but it also has very limited opening hours. Though I had marked it as a Low Priority visit for Day 1 (it was scheduled for later in the week), getting to it on this day was highly desirable.

I’ll admit that though I was feeling energetic, endorphins still raging on my Sorolla high, I’ll admit that my brain was not quite up to par. I would have bailed out most likely if I had not pre-chewed and written down each step of how to get from Museo Sorolla to La Latina. Score one for pre-planning and Plan B.

Naturally the church was closed for lunch until 5:00pm. More than closed, it was shuttered to the point you would think they had not opened it for visits for a decade. But having been faced with this scenario multiple times, by now I know better.

I was forced to wander around La Latina and have a ‘clara con limón’ (beer on tap & lemon soda mix; a.k.a shandy, panaché or michelada) under the glorious blue sky amongst the hip Madrileños enjoying the very first nice day of spring.

The Real Basilica de San Francisco el Grande, was finally reopened to visits shortly after 5:00pm. It is a neoclassical church full of works by Zurbarán and Francisco Goya. I loved it, but you really must be a church enthusiast (I am) to seek this one out.

After the visit I wandered through the Cava Alta and Cava Baja until I made it to the Cuchilleros street.

Keeping with personal tradition, on my very first day in Madrid I had to have a ración of stuffed mushrooms at the incredibly cheesy (as in kitsch, not as in the good gooey stuff) Mesón del Champi. It was packed to gills but a big smile combined with pleading eyes finally got me tiny seat on a corner. Score one for solo traveling!

It was quite entertaining to watch people over-order but so sad to see tons of food wasted on every table. I had not really planned to do this on the first day, but I found myself elbowing my way through the mob at Mercado San Miguel. Drop dead gorgeous food porn but just too chaotic on a Saturday afternoon for my taste. As in full body contact to walk through the narrower halls.

I finally had a glass of cava (Spanish bubbly) and amazingly briny Galician flat oysters but only because I found an out of the way corner to order and stand.

After that I got tempted by the smell of a nearby black rice/paella (cuttlefish in their ink). It even looked pretty (well… as much as a black paella can) but I sensibly kept my expectation low. Much to my surprise, it was decent! Excellent taste and texture. I opted to take it at room temperature (as opposed to reheated on the microwave), which helps it not to dry out.

I fully expected to return to the Mercado later in the week to take pictures of all the pretty food, but it never happened. I did walk by, but the crowds never seemed to get any smaller. IMO, there are many other places to get amazing food in Madrid with less aggravation.

I neglected to meet my other ‘tradition’ of having a late lunch at the Sobrinos de Botín restaurant on arrival date, but I’m fine with that; not every tradition needs to be upheld.

Instead I had a coffee by the gorgeous and bustling Plaza Mayor to prevent withdrawal symptoms later in the day (or early in the morning) and enjoy the nice early evening. Prime peoplewatching spot. The overweight Spiderman was a hoot.

I returned to the hotel at almost 9:00pm to retrieve my luggage and check-in. The room was a two-single bed ‘mini suite’ with a separate desk/closet area. It was spacious for a single person and I think that even for two it would have been fine; if one is comfortable sleeping on a twin-sized bed.

The room was immaculately clean. The bathroom was well lit, and the hot water came out with great pressure. A kettle or coffee machine would have been wonderful but at €80 per night, I could not complain. Of course the walls were thin, but that is ubiquitous in small European hotels. I did not hear any street noise whatsoever (though it is quite the party area).

Elevator only makes it to the third floor and I was on the fourth. I lift weights and do cardio at the gym; no problem.

I was tired, but I wanted to stay up until later for two reasons: first to get over the jet lag, but most importantly to try and sync in the outrageously late Spanish dinning times. I decided to roll the dice: I laid on the spare bed, fully clothed, and set an alarm for 1 hour later and started reading through my emails. THEN I would decide if I was just going to crash for the night.

It worked. I rolled off the bed and headed back out to grab a drink and a snack for dinner at the nearby Plaza de Santa Ana. Though it was cold outside (hey… I’m from the tropics!) and every restaurant had tents and heaters going full blast, it wasn’t freezing or raining on a Saturday night. All the Madrileños were out and about. I grabbed the first open table I could find and ordered a drink at Las 10 Tapas de Santa Ana.

The guy did not want to take my drink order without a meal order. What?!?! I stared him down and won. Though I did have to reassure him that I would indeed be having dinner.

I savored my cheap house wine and observed all the comings and goings around me for a while. I eventually ordered a second glass and a garbanzo (chickpea) porridge which came out barely lukewarm. I did not revisit them and I should have read their reviews before sitting down. But since they had the only open table in the plaza, I will not complain.

Having made it up until midnight, I went back to the hotel, took a long hot showered, and blissfully crashed until the next morning.

Great start!
I am enjoying your writing.

Thank you elberko!

Looking forward to the rest.

I am one of those people that doesn’t spend long in cities. But I enjoy reading other people’s impressions (and your writing style).

I'm in! Great TR!

I also enjoyed Goya's works at the Basilica. Worth the trip out there.

Day 2, Sunday

The first item on The Spreadsheet was a visit to the Real Academia de Bellas Artes de San Fernando. This in one of the museums that is barely given a mention in Madrid guidebooks but only because the city is filled with top-tier, world-class museums.

I mean, really, next to El Prado, not many places can compete.

I found it to be incredibly interesting and containing something for all tastes. The first floor has traditional paintings and a few pieces of sculpture. Including an outstanding polychromed wood Mater Dolorosa by Pedro de Mena which I was very excited to see as I expected to see his masterpiece on the same theme later that day.

The second floor had all kinds of objects, ranging from some very intricate wax carvings to the original approved plans signed by Ildfons Cerdá for the expansion of Barcelona. I had the wonderful modern paintings on the 3rd floor basically to myself. Loved it. Highly recommended for museum buffs.

Though this was a Sunday, it was still early, and I had ‘penciled it’ into The Spreadsheet, I had no real interest to go see El Rastro market. I have seen a lot of Spanish mercadillos. Never really met one I loved. I had also wandered the day before through the areas I had tagged for visiting on Day 2 so suddenly the day opened up. After one quick look at The Spreadsheet, I bumped up the next high-priority item: the Descalzas Reales Monastery.

Why I did not pre-purchase tickets for this? I have no idea. I fell into the ‘it’s shoulder season, how bad can it be?’ trap. Everywhere in Madrid it was packed with older tourists, there must have been great airfare from central Europe! Packed.

Mistake Level: Travel Rookie.

I barely managed to snag one of the last 2 tickets available for the day, Monday was closed and there were none left for the following Tuesday. I only got the one because of a last-minute group cancellation. Ticket in hand, crisis averted.

Now I had some time to kill until 2:00 pm.

I took a walk around town and eventually made my way into San Ginés. Chocolate con Churros anyone?

This is one of the few archetypical Spanish snacks that I seldom eat: I do not like sweets for breakfasts (though this is not cloyingly sweet), we do not snack, we do not do desserts often, the heavy fried churros fill up you stomach and kill the appetite for the rest of the day, it is best eaten on cold days, etc. But today -at 10:30 am, on a cool spring morning, and without firm plans for lunch or dinner - all the planets aligned.

Oh, and the line was only about 30 people long. I have seen that line go around the block.

The system at Chocolatería San Ginés goes like this: you get in line, order at the register, go find yourself a place to sit, the waiter takes your receipt only when you are seated, and finally brings the goodies to the table.

It is best if you know what you want to order before you reach the register, they get understandably annoyed.

Do not forget to order water if you are not carrying a bottle around, you will be thirsty after eating all this gooey fatty goodness. Parched.

Also, waiters will not be too happy if you sit on a table for more than 10 minutes while the other person makes the long line. They won’t tell you to leave, but they won’t be happy. The things you notice when you are by yourself, lol.

There are options in the restaurant, but it really comes down to two choices: chocolate or coffee, and churros or porras. The obvious answer in a chocolatería is to go with chocolate. Now the second one is not as easy.

Never heard of porras? Don’t worry. Neither did I until my umpteenth visit to Spain.

As far as I know, the batter for churros and porras is the same and (IMO) has not much taste. It is all about the texture and its absorption properties. The only purpose of the fried dough is to convey the chocolate from the cup to your mouth; for this, churros and porras work in very different ways.

If you are a dunker wishing to retain some of the outer bite of the dough, go for the thin ropes of churros. If you are a soaker, porras will work much better as they have a cakier texture and can absorb larger amounts of chocolate.

The chocolate will be so thick as to be almost undrinkable because it is not really meant to be drunk. It has been crafter for dunking or spooning directly into you mouth. No one will stare too bad if you water it down. And then who cares if they stare.

I had the churros. But half of them I broke into pieces and put them into the cup so that they could soak up the chocolate. Because sometimes you CAN have it all.

They were wonderful but I had better in Málaga (the chocolate was just as rich but more liquid). And if you want to know, most days I’ll still have horchata and fartons in Valencia over chocolate con porras.

Thus properly fortified (marathon anyone?) I was ready to go wandering around town until it was time to go back to the convent.

BTW, before you walk up to the convent, you can use the restroom at the nearby Corte Inglés because the gate keeper won’t even let you in for that before your allotted time slot. And the jewelry section is worth ogling over even for non-shoppers like me. I did not buy anything. But slightly regret it.

The Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales is one of the greatest treasure troves of 16th/17th century religious art and architecture in Spain. Founded by Juana de Austria (daughter of Carlos V) it was meant to house the wealthy daughters of only the highest nobility that chose (or where forced into) a life of contemplation and prayer.

Only guided visits allowed, and the no-picture rule is strictly enforced. They don’t even really want you holding your phone in your hand. There is a guard holding the group together from behind so there is really no chance to straggle behind to enjoy the masterpieces longer. They watch you like a hawk.

As you come in the grand staircase will take your breath away. History comes to life as the veil between centuries is briefly torn apart. From then on its one wonder after another.

If you are not familiar with this place, google it. And go see it even if you are a only lukewarm admirer of religious art.

Now, of all the things I wanted to see there was a specific piece I wished to admire once again, the main driver for my revisit: a 17th century polychromed wood bust of a Mater Dolorosa by Pedro de Mena. I cannot tell you why but ever since I first laid eyes on this sculpture it had burned into my heart.

The bust depicts a very young Mary, tearful eyes slightly swollen and red from crying, her gaze seemingly wandering off into the distance. But it is her expression of courage, complete acceptance of destiny, and resignation which captivated me. In my mind it shows the moment when she surrenders to her pain and transcends. She has swallowed from the bitter cup.

(Yes, I was raised Catholic but I do not practice and do not identify as religious. But I admit ungrudgingly that the iconography still gets to me. But then good art and human emotion are universal.)

And then the unthinkable happens. Halfway through the tour the guide announces that the Choir is being prepared for a recording of choral music and was not available for visits.

WHAT!?!? No. NONONO. Noooooooo……..

No Mary for me. All other marvels? Yes. But not MY Mary.

Anyway, the place is awesome and I survived my disappointment. But I did not enjoy the rest of the tour as much as I could have. I had to find out if something could be done to rectify the situation.

By the time I left the convent my stomach was finally ready to consider a late lunch. Given the location I thought I would try to do a ‘walk in’ into one of the Old School restaurants Madrid where the Cocido is an institution: La Bola.

Place was packed on a Sunday afternoon with both regulars and tourists. Once again, a pleasant smile, courteous behavior, pleading eyes, and some flexibility paid off. I was told to come back in half an hour and they might have a table for one available for me. Score!

Ten years before I had had a Cocido Madrileño at La Bola. It was outstanding. The only problem was that it had been during late August. And it was 105 degrees in Madrid at 9:00pm. I literally almost fainted in the metro from overheating.

Every region of Spain has a typical ‘plato de olla’, a soupy stew usually involving 5th quarter meats, some type of bean and a vegetable or two. In Cocido Madrileño the dish is served in two steps from a jar: first the cooking broth is poured as a soup with a few accompaniments and then the meats, garbanzos, and sausages are plated. Cabbage is served on the side.

It was just as good as I remembered. Though it was nice and cool outside, I did need a nap after consuming in one seating enough calories to feed a small village. I was so lethargic that I asked them to call a taxi for me.

But the day was not over for me.

Through the magic of the internet it has come to our attention that fellow Fodorite and friend lincasanova was going to be in Madrid during my stay. She was coming because she wanted to see a performance from the great flamenco dancer María Pagés. A show I was already planned to go see later that week at the Teatros del Canal!

Of course we made plans and I was able to purchase a seat just behind hers!!!

I cannot even begin to describe the artistry and lyricism of this master of flamenco. To witness such a performance is a gift and a privilege.

After the show we took a cab to restaurant Taberna del Alabardero in Plaza de Oriente where we had a few outstanding bites to finish the evening off. We had a great meal with many laughs. Linda and her friend graciously invited my to come along the next day as they would be making a lunch stop at Chinchón on their way back to Valencia. I could make my way back to Madrid on a bus.

We wanted to go to a terrace for coffee but rain interrupted and we had to cut the evening short. I took a cab back to the hotel and completely crashed until the next morning.

It is funny but I actually do not like big cities per se, but instead I love the things which can only be found in cities. Museums, great churches, amazing restaurants, public transportation....

Thank you! I found it very worthwhile. Wait until you hear about the visit to the Ermita de San Antonio de la Florida / Panteón de Goya, lol.

I've read (and re-read) you amazing TR! Rest assured, Gintonics were had.

Great trip report! We were only able to spend three nights in Madrid last year on a trip spent mostly in Andalucia. But we loved what we saw and experienced in Madrid and are eager to go back. Thanks for sharing your trip with us in such great detail.

'Gintonics were had."

Glad to hear it. I thought you hadn't left yet. Obviously, I need a GinTonic. (:

Very much enjoying your report; thank you for sharing. Like you, I like house museums.

Thanks for posting this report. We will be flying to Madrid this coming weekend after attending several opera performances in Verona. Your report has given me a couple of sightseeing ideas (have been to Madrid in the past) which are appreciated.

Day 3, Monday
 

Mondays often wreak havoc to compulsive trip planners. Everything I wanted to see in Madrid was closed on Mondays.

Perfect for a daytrip, right? Not quite, because most of the things you want to see at the daytrip location are also closed. Since I am notorious for bailing out of daytrips (haven’t even made it to Versailles yet, I’m that bad) The Spreadsheet listed two alternatives for the day: A Daytrip to Alcalá de Henares or a marathon museum visit to El Prado (last time I was there for 6 hours but got massive visual overload) combined with El Retiro and the neighborhood around it.

But I had been invited to tag along for a daytrip to Chinchón in the company of two very fun ladies. No brainer. Alcalá would have to wait for another day and El Prado was not a high priority on this trip anyway (more on this later).

First in the order of things on a Monday morning (or any morning for that matter) was obtaining enough caffeine within an hour of waking so that deprivation headaches do not kick in. Museo del Jamón to the rescue. I had a great little ham sandwich, coffee and fresh orange juice for a few euros while chatting with the group of southamerican construction workers standing elbow to elbow along the bar.

They were all served their coffee in glasses. I was given a cup. They did not know why either. Bar guy was too busy to answer.

Place is wildly popular with public workers. EMTs, cops, suits… everyone walked in. There was a 20:1 male to female ratio in this place. Most of were having beers with their sandwiches. Things you notice when you are solo.

Busy Spanish bars are not kind to the shy. Well, busy bars anywhere are not very kind to anyone, lol. But here one really needs to push in these places to get your order in and win a 10” spot on the counter in which to place your coffee.

I still had time before I was scheduled to meet with the ladies so I walked over to the Palacio Real and caught the rear end (pun intended) of an official parade as the horses headed back to the stables. Gorgeous animals. And the uniformed guys riding them were not bad looking either.

A short walk took me down to Sabatini Gardens, still a little muddy from the night rain but very pretty to look at. The views of the Royal Palace are worth the walk down instead of just overlooking from the top.

I met with lincasanova and her friend at the hotel lobby. They were staying at Roomate Mario, great looking hotel and excellent location (though not exactly where Google maps said it was, making me walk up and down the street a few times). We were off to Chinchón (after a few adventures trying to find the way out of the Parkhouse).

Even when I was flying into Madrid I thought it was the greenest I had ever seen the countryside around the city (most of my visits have been in autumn). The countryside was plush green and bursting with wild flowers. Just to enjoy the open fields and blue skies.

We snagged a parking smack in the middle (literally) of Chinchón’s beautiful round main ‘square’. I have been to a lot (A LOT) plazas in small Spanish towns but this one is certainly different. Three story buildings surround the plaza, all façades covered with wooden balconies. Very quaint and unique.

The tourist train was about ready to leave so we just boarded up and got a great ride through town. I thought that maybe after lunch I would come back and look at the church in detail. We got off the train one stop short, next to the restaurant which the guide had recommended, Casa Roque.

Lets take a moment to talk about the absolute best culinary deal in Spain: Menú del Día. Every self-respecting restaurant -from greasy spoons to Michelin-starred- will have a fixed lunch offer which will be dramatically lower than ordering á la carte.

Typically these daily deals will include a first course, a second course, and a coffee or dessert. Sometimes they will even add a ‘bebida’ which could be soft drinks, beer on tap or even wine. Guests can expect to pay around €10 for this belly buster deal at small, family owned restaurants.

In Valencia we (well, the hubs, he is the restaurant whisperer) had a full menu for €5. The closest I’ve come to challenging his record is a €6,50 lunch in Málaga. We have been to places where they have set down a bottle of open wine and never charged a cent more if the drank the entire thing.

Frequently several options will be offered, and one can mix and match (two first courses instead of a first and second). Truck stops might have just one first and one second. One should never sneer at truck stops, we’ve had amazing meals in some.

A full Menú del Día will often be way (WAY) too much food for one person. Even a plate of a very rich Ensaladilla Rusa (a common first) is enough lunch for two if neither is a big eater. Here you need to be careful, you will be tempted to share. And it can be done. We have done it. But it needs to be handled diplomatically.

The hubs and I are not big lunch eaters, we know that the rest of the day will be shot if we eat so much. When the situation calls for it, we have very politely asked the waiter beforehand if we could share, stating upfront that we will gladly pay for the extra drinks and coffee. Sometimes they have even offered to split both dishes in the kitchen so that we can sample.

Courteous -but not overly friendly- behavior will get you far in Spain.

OK, back to Chinchón and San Roque. We did not share. We probably should have, lol.

Everything ranged from good to excellent. I had calamares a la Roman (fried calamari) and a meat-heavy garbanzo porridge. The other ladies had some outstanding artichokes, patatas, ensaladilla. Yup, tons of food for something close to €9 each if I remember correctly.

I had planned to walk through the town after the ladies departed for their long drive back to Valencia but in my food-induced coma I really did not feel like it. After saying our goodbyes I just plunked down on the stop to wait for the next bus to Madrid.

Shamefacedly I will admit that I slept most of the way back to the city. I’m sure that contributed to my being completely discombobulated when we arrived at the final stop and it was not where I expected to be. There is more than one bus hub in Madrid, duh!

OK, so I walked with the crowd. Around the corner I saw metro station ‘Conde Casal’. Never heard of it. OK.

Stared at the metro map for 10 minutes looking for Conde Casal until my brain finally woke up enough to realize that I could google directions ‘from current location’ to El Prado. Duh!

In my defense, this is the very first time I actually have had a data plan on my phone for international travel. Weird, I know. Until now we have made do with wifi and a non-smart prepaid local phone. I’m sold.

I was also utterly confused because Line #6, where Conde Casal is, is circular and figuring out direction was not exactly straightforward.

The only reason I’m bringing this up is because something like this, where I had no idea even in which part of Madrid I was, would have completely thrown me off 10 years ago. I guess I’m a resourceful big(ger) girl now, lol. And I could always take a taxi back. Triple lol.

Twenty minutes and a line change later I was by Banco de España and ready to tackle a few miscellaneous things on The Spreadsheet.

First was a visit to San Jerónimo el Real. Located behind El Prado this church comes up frequently on all those posh weddings, first communions, and funerals featured in ¡Hola! Magazine.

Another shameful confession: I grew up being grocery line reader of ¡Hola! until they started putting the magazine inside those stupid sealed plastic covers. I entirely blame my Spain-loving yet very frugal grandmother for this habit. And a few other childhood traumas as well but that does not belong in here, lol.

The exterior of the church is simply magnificent. The golden afternoon sunlight made it glow. I did not even take pictures of the interior so I guess that it did not make a big impression.

So there I was, across from El Prado at around 5:45pm. Do you know what this means? Free admission starts at 6:00pm. ‘Okay, maybe I still do the museum….’ Where my thoughts. My main interest in El Prado this time was to go see the ‘new’ cloister at the Jerónimos extension with its limited opening hours.

Hello, my name is Mari and I’m a Cloister Junkie.

My husband has accepted this fact and does not question it anymore. Even when I make him drive for hours to visit a lonely monastery in the wastelands behind the boondocks of rural Spain. I’m a great cook, I get away with a lot of stuff.

I crossed the street and approached the Jerónimos entrance thinking I was going to outsmart everyone and be able to just walk in. Nope. Free admission only through the main entrance. Okay…. Off I go around the building and find the beginning of the line. But the end? Uffffff. There must have been 500 people in line. While I’m looking in slack-jawed horror, still debating what to do, 20 more people have joined the queue.

'OK, time to act. Get in line and THEN figure out what you want to do.' (My inner thoughts speak with my grandmother's voice)

I asked the attendant (the queue is organized by museum staff) how long it would take. He said about 20 minutes from where I stood. Ha! That seemed reasonable and I really did not have anything planned for the late afternoon (in Spain it is afternoon until 8:00pm).

He was off by 2 minutes. I walked in at 6:22. Not too bad.

I approach the concierge and ask for the shortest route to the cloister.

‘Sorry madam, cloister is closed for a radio program.’

WHAT? This was becoming a theme.

But I was already inside so I could not wallow in my misery, there was ART to be seen.

What followed was a completely disorganized but thoroughly enjoyable walk through the Italian Masters (my all-time favorites) and the rest of the first floor. I visited Las Meninas for as long as I wanted (measured in about the length of 10 tour group explanations) and admired Goya’s Maja Desnuda and Maja Vestida.

By the time I was ready to tackle the ground floor the staff began to clear the rooms for closing. Even if I had not even included this visit as a priority in my itinerary, I was surprisingly disappointed to leave without seeing some El Bosco’s masterpieces or admiring the plump women on Rubens’ big canvases. Neither had I achieved my goal of visiting the cloister. Massive bummer.

Maybe I would have to do something about that. About everything.

But it was time to find refreshments. Museum visits are thirsty business.

I headed into the Barrio de las Letras and plunked down on the first restaurant with available comfortable looking chairs to enjoy a nice cold beer and rest my weary feet. Around 10:00 I wobbled (on achy feet, not drunken stupor) back to Santa Ana square.

I randomly picked a pizza place for a couple glasses of wine and a few bites to eat. The humongous lunch was not leaving much space for anything else. I figured that, aside from the waste, it would not do much harm if I left a €7 pizza margherita half uneaten.

The waiter was very nice and even poured me an extra (and rather unneeded) glass of wine after I helped him out translating for a nearby table as his English was rudimentary at best and he was not comprehending the guests questions.

What they wanted to know was if the sangría was pre-made or if they could request it with less sugar. They mentioned that they had found the sangria everywhere to be overpoweringly sweet. He said it was premixed in batches so he could not alter it. They ordered it anyway.

What the waiter should have suggested to them (and I did not think of at that moment) was to order Tinto de Verano instead of Sangría. Tinto de Verano (Red for the Summer) is what most Spaniards drink anyway on hot days if they do not go for beer. It is red wine cut down with sparkling water or lemon soda. No sugar or any other liquor added. It is served with ice and there might be a fruit or two in the fancier places. This is the hubs go to drink for sunny afternoons in Spain. He even likes the bottled kind that can be found in supermarkets.

Me? I prefer a cool and crisp white wine, thankyouverymuch.

Before I stop with my endless ramble, let’s talk about pizzas in Europe for a little bit.

They seem to be an endless source of disappointment to people that order them without knowing what to expect.

(I’m a diehard pizza enthusiast. The hubs shares this addiction. We go out once a week for pizza because there is no way I can get a decent crust on my wimpy oven at home. We WILL go way out of our way to get a good, thin, crispy pizza.)

When you order pizza at a restaurant it is usually thought of as an individual dish, not intended to be shared. Therefore, it will not come pre-sliced into triangles nor will you get extra plates unless you ask for them. You will need to cut the pizza yourself with your table knife. Most Europeans will eat it with knife and fork anyway, at least the older ones.

It will look huge, but you will be able to eat it the whole thing because the crust will be wafer thin, the pizza will not be overladen with cheese, and any ingredient requested will be sparingly distributed on its surface.

The very nice guests sitting next to me commented on every single one of these points.

Anyway, after eating more pizza than I should have and that third glass of wine I wobbled (no comment this time) back to the hotel and drifted to sleep within seconds of head touching pillow.

What an exhilarating day! Fun to have joined you for the ride.

Ok, I can see Spain is not for me, I’d never get a drink at the bar, LOL.

We also got our first SIM card for data last year in Switzerland, never going without that now, either. I didn’t have a smartphone before then, now am converted.