What an amazing trip report (though really it is so much more than that...a mini travelogue?) I appreciate that you provide so much helpful information along with great descriptions of places that are not on the "usual" tourist circuit. As an obsessive travel planner I must confess that I am dying to see The Spreadsheet....

Thanks to all! I'm still getting used to the new format and had missed a few comments.

Yes, my reports are more of travelogues than anything, lol. I will eventually load them into Wordpress so that I can add pictures. In the meantime I will post some to my Facebook page 'Stella's Spoon'.

Day 4 - Tuesday
 

I love museums. The hubs has learned to enjoy museums because he loves me. Since compromise is key to a happy marriage and successful travel companionship, museum visits are kept to reasonable limits: No marathonic visits and no 2-museums-days when we are together.

(Of course, I do this anyway, we just find a place where he can comfortably sit and enjoy his beer while watching the world go by as I wander the hallowed halls. COMPROMISE.)

After falling in love with the Sorolla and Fashion exhibit at the namesake museum, I had to find a slot in The Spreadsheet to fit in the Thyssen-Bornemisza. It was going to have to be yet another 2-museums-day.

I got an early start, grabbed a quick cup of coffee, purchased the entrance tickets, and was waiting for my entry time within an hour of waking up. When I got the tickets I also got an entrance time slot for the Louis Vuitton Time Capsule even though I did not have much interest in the company (more on this later). It was included in the entrance fee, so why not.

Sorolla was a Valencian painter born in the late 1800’s. He is known for his outstandingly luminous landscapes and beautiful portraits, especially those of his family. As a financially successful artist -and a bit of a fashionista- he was able to cloth his wife and daughters in beautiful gowns freshly off the needles of Parisian seamstresses.

This exhibit focuses on his portrait work, ranging from formal poses of royals and socialites to endearing long-stroke studies of his children at the beach. All the paintings showcased have been matched with actual objects closely resembling the ones worn by the models.

If I was impressed by the smaller collection as the Sorolla Museum, the one at the Thyssen absolutely blew my mind. Though I’m not a fashion aficionada, I can recognize artistry when I see it. The fabrics, the design, the cutting, the sewing, the lacemaking, the embroidery…. Simply fascinating. And kudos to the curators for assembling such a well-crafted exhibit.

Though the evening gowns and military uniforms were interesting, the morning and daytime ensembles were my favorites. White cotton and linen blouses, tiny mother-of-pearl buttons, handmade lace, hats, shoes, fans, parasols….

(I love all this vintage clothes but I'm very grateful for the super comfortable, no ironing, quick drying clothes that I usually wear.)

Fine, I'm sure you get it, I LOVED the exhibit. Worth every second, penny, and the potential sacrifice of a day trip to Alcalá.

I openly admit that the only reason I went into the Louis Vuitton exhibit was because I had the ticket. I do not love their current brand image (or at least my uninformed perception of it, to be fair) and I refuse to wear brand-obvious objects (on the improbable scenario where I would be willing to shell out the big bucks for it).

Here it is: I loved it too.

First there was a demonstration by one of their leather-working artists. She was lining a small wooden box with the uber-famous monogram print. Watching a master work their craft is always a humbling and awe-inspiring experience. One point for Louis.

Then there was the luggage from the era of the grand circle and safaris. LOVED it. Then there were chairs and hammocks, and custom ordered specialty storage units. LOVED IT. (Not enough to buy a handbag though.)

My plan was to leave the museum as soon as I was done with the exhibits and carry on with the day. Yeah, right. I was there already. I followed the siren’s call to the elevator….

Almost three hours later, I had skimmed through the old masters, visited the newer additions, and delighted on the early 20th century artists. Very enjoyable but not according to plan.

My impression of the Thyssen remains as the first time I visited: it is an easy museum with a well-designed collection with enough content to provide a general overview of Western art. I think it is much more suitable for beginners or people which are not really into art than the Prado or even the Reina Sofía (marked in light green as for 'if I have time/energy' in The Spreadsheet).

I had been on my feet for four hours already; that slow museum shuffle (three steps forward, stand 20 seconds to admire artwork, take a step forward to read the signs, step back for one last look, repeat) is a back killer.

But I must say that my feet were still doing great on the best UGLIEST walking shoes I have ever owned. So, I’m not a fashionista, but I’m not exactly an ultra-casual dresser either. By now you have probably realized that I’m a big walker too. Travel shoes are important. And not easy to find.

Neither are handbags. But we can talk about that at some other time.

My current black travel shoes are like maryjanes on steroids. Ugly AF but with just enough personality to make them look like a style statement. The insides are well cushioned and give great arch support and then the 2” platforms are shaped so that you are forced to roll every step. This type of shoes is great for elephant-stompers like me, real knee savers. They are from an Italian manufacturer called Alegria, the style is called Paloma.

These shoes might have even gotten a stare or two. They are that ugly. But I’m a practical woman and I will wear whatever I please. And walk circles around you and your tired feet wearing pretty shoes.

Disclaimer: I have been known to wear death-defying stilettos. But only as ‘restaurant shoes’.

While I’m on the subject, about two trips ago, when my trusty beige Sketcher’s walkers died, I gave up and bought some real sneakers. Nike Air in a nude tone which I find (barely) appropriate for city sightseeing and casual dining. Very, very comfortable.

(I also wanted to purchase something from Nike in appreciation for their very public support of two athletes: transgender triathlete Chris Mosier as he joined the all-American team and Sir Mo Farrah’s -an Olympian marathon runner born in Somalia, raised in Britain and now residing in Oregon - after he had issues reentering the USA in the days following the initial travel ban. Yes, I realize that Nike fails at other causes but these two are very dear to my heart.)

So, me and my tired back started walking up the Paseo del Prado and plopped down on the first outdoor café I found. A (slightly burnt) Spanish tortilla provided enough protein and carbohydrates to fuel me up for the next step in the agenda.

Okayyyyyy…. I also had a glass of white wine. That may or may not helped the level of motivation which had increased tremendously by the time I was done.

The National Archaeological Museum had been on my ‘next time for sure’ list ever since my very first trip to Madrid. Today was the day it would finally happen. The Iberian Peninsula has an incredibly rich archaeological heritage, so I had high expectations from this museum.

The entrance was somewhat hard to find as it shares the same building as the National Library and façade is under renovation. I walked past the Plaza Colón and around the block until I finally found the correct spot to enter.

The place is huge with tons of interactive exhibits. I will say it is highly recommended as an activity with kids. There were quite a few Spanish families and au pairs with their charges enjoying the cool stuff (and the cool air must be great in the scorching Madrid summer).

Just to see the Dama de Elche is worth the (very low) admission price. I will not go into details, google the place if you are interested but my high expectations were entirely met. The only reason this magnificent place does not get more foot traffic is because of all the other must-sees in Madrid. I spent at least 2 hours but by then I was suffering from visual overload.

Which is exactly the reason why one should not schedule 2-museums days.

I walked through Serrano street but had zero interest in looking at the high-end storefronts. The museum is close to Platea Madrid, a gourmet food hall that opened in an old movie house. It has a small market and several eating areas, most notably Ricard Camerena’s Canalla Bistro.

I was tired. I was cranky. I was NOT impressed. It might have been the time of day, but the hall was rather empty and ambiance-less. Only a few business people and tourist having drinks. Not my kind of place. Please note that I was not in a great mood, maybe at other time I would have enjoyed it.

I didn’t even make the effort and left without having a drink, opting instead to have my refreshments at a nearby café. I also had a dinner date and I did not want to spoil my appetite.

After mustering enough energy to walk again I took the metro back to the hotel for much needed downtime and a short nap.

I met with longtime friend and fellow Fodorite, cova, at the Iglesias metro station. Cova, a Madrid resident, was the very first of my ‘imaginary friends’ that I met IRL, more than 10 years ago.

Every city has a well-kept secret area where the locals go to romp and play. In Madrid, Ponzano street is the current playground. Its popularity is increasing rapidly so it may soon be overrun by tourists as well.

The street has more than a kilometer packed full of interesting gastrobars and trendy restaurants. There are enough places to keep one occupied for weeks! Perfect location for a tapa crawl away from dry paellas, oily patatas bravas and expensive pitchers of cloyingly sweet sangría.

After enjoying a glass of local wine at an enoteca which I neglected to jot down, cova led me to Arima Basque Gastronomy. I took no notes or pictures of this meal so I’m going by memory and cova’s pictures. We had an amouse bouche of morcilla (blood sausage) followed by deconstructed gildas (the quintessential Basque bar snack of olive, pickled pepper, and anchovy). We then shared fried artichokes confit which were deliciously tender. For mains I had a wonderfully flaky codfish with piperade, and cova had a drop dead gorgeous dish which I can no longer identify; but she did say it was very good. We shared a roasted apple dessert.

Everything we eat was immaculately presented, exquisitely aromatic, seasoned expertly, and cooked with technical precision. I would go back in a heartbeat.

But then all meals are made better when you have a wonderful conversation to go along! Thank you cova for a great evening.

Meal was followed by short walk to the metro station and a short walk back to the hotel for some well deserved rest.

Day 5 - Wednesday
 

After a few days of eating way too much rich food (and copious amounts of wine) I was not up to having much for breakfast, though my caffeine addiction still demanded at least a cup of coffee.

And I had a very full day ahead; even by my admittedly aggressive sightseeing standards.

I looked at all the bars along the street, with their beautiful brewing machines which probably cost more than my car is currently worth, and just had the feeling that my stomach would not really embrace a cup of the strong brew. Coffee in Spain is good. Real good. And strong. The way it should be.

I went into a Starbucks by Plaza de Callao. Me. I don’t do this. Never. Well, once in a blue moon for a Frappuccino. I don’t even know the words to order properly. ‘Un café americano pequeño’ did the trick. The barista might have sneered slightly.

The first stop of the day was a return trip to the ticket office of the Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales to inquire about availability. They still had a few slots (at 9:00am) for the 2:00pm visit. I did not know if this would work for me as I had yet to get a ticket at the other place I wanted to visit, but at €6 it was not going to break the bank if I had to give it up.

A short walk took me to the Real Monasterio de la Encarnación, the first scheduled visit of the day. The next available time slot was at noon. I was going to be cutting it close to get back to the Descalzas but I was sure I could make it work. And I’m a fast walker when I want to. (Personal record for half-marathon is 2:47 without running at all.)

So I had an hour to spend. This is where having Plans B, C, and D grouped by location in The Spreadsheet comes in handy.

I’m not even sure how I became aware of the existence of San Antonio de los Alemanes church. It is barely mentioned in guidebooks. Google maps got me there without problems.

The simple exterior does nothing to prepare you for magnificent baroque interior. Built in the mid 1600’s it was originally know as the Hospital de los Portugueses, until secession soured the relations of the Habsburgs with that country.

I had not seen pictures of the church before and it got a jaw-dropping surprise reaction out of me. What a beauty!!!! Every inch of surface is decorated but since Spanish baroque tends to be more subdued that its French or Italian counterparts, it is much more to my liking.

If you enjoy religious art, give yourself the gift of detouring to visit this jewel.

Before leaving I lit a candle to St. Anthony and threw in a few coins into the donation box. Yes, I might be non-practicing but within a year my three sisters have become unexpectedly single. We’ll take all the help we get, lol. I’ll cover all the bases.

After spending more time than I had intended, I had to haul my not-so-little rear end back to La Encarnación. I made it with a few minutes to spare. This was going to be a recurring theme throughout the day.

The Real Monasterio de la Encarnacion is still and active convent; a handful of cloistered nuns still live there. The public areas and visiting times are accordingly limited. Only guided visits allowed, and the no-pictures policy is strictly enforced. Very strictly. A guest was threatened to be kicked out because of picture-taking.

In her defense, the guide’s English was barely understandable (sadly common in Spain, they seem to do a lot better in French) and her own was rudimentary. I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt in that she never understood that there was a prohibition. The visitor was visibly distressed over the exchange.

Some of the fellow guests on the tour were there only because they tickets for the Descalzas Reales were soldout. The ticket agent there had sent them here as a ‘second best’ visit. And for the most part that is exactly what it is. The not so pretty or smart younger sister.

Having said that, La Encarnación contains some heavy-duty works of art. The reliquary room by itself is a wonder to see. The most revered relics are vials containing the blood of San Pantaleón and San Genaro encased in masterpieces of goldsmith.

For me, a die-hard fan of monasteries, this was an entirely worthwhile visit.

By the time the tour reached the church, I was beginning to get nervous. It was 1:45pm and I needed to get going or risk losing my time slot at the Descalzas. As in most cases, straightforward honesty is the best course of action: I told the tour guide I had an timed entrance ticket and he opened a side door so I could leave.

I got to the Descalzas a little sweaty and winded, but I got there on time. With 3 minutes to spare actually.

The Monastery de las Descalzas Reales was no less impressive by having seen it two days before. And the choir was open to visits.

I got to see my Mary after all. Yes, I cried. Discreetly.

It was close to 4:00pm and I was starving. Thankfully coming up on The Spreadsheet was a visit to nearby Espacio Gourmet, a food hall and market located on the penthouse of big El Corte Inglés department store by Callao.

Even if you have zero interest on food and/or food porn (plenty to see here!), this place is worth a visit just for the views of Madrid. And they have continuous service throughout the day in case you get trapped in the 4:00 to 8:00 period where most restaurants close.

I could have had anything (everything looked amazing) but the smell of burgers on the grill had made my mouth water since the elevator doors slid open. And I do love a good burger. Seared crust on the outside and medium rare inside? Yes, please!

See what happens when you start the day with Starbucks!?!?! Anyway, I still had 4 more weeks in Spain. I would have plenty of time to eat stuff I do not get at home. And the Spanish love their burgers too.

It WAS a good burger. The glass of wine I had with it didn’t hurt either.

I had met all my ‘must do’ items for the day and it was still early. Head back to the hotel for a nap? I had time to squeeze in a few ‘second tier’ sights. But did I have the energy?

To be continued....

Am in Madrid (again) now and have found your entire report interesting and thought-provoking and thank you for taking the time to write and post it.

Day 5 - Wednesday (Continued)
 

I’m not big on sweets but there are a few things I really like. This list includes affogato coffee. An espresso shot with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or gelato (hazelnut works equally well). It was conveniently featured at the ice cream stand in the Espacio Gourmet.

Okayyyyyy…. No nap needed. Time to go see more stuff.

I walked along with the tourist mob in the Gran Vía and slowly made my way to the Templo de Debod, an Egyptian temple donated to the Spanish government in gratitude for the help received during the relocation of the temple of Abu Simbel prior to the flooding of the Aswan dam. Fascinating history all around.

The light was way too harsh in the afternoon sun to get any decent pictures.Next stop was a the Rosaleda. It was kind of pretty but there was not even a rose bud this early in the spring. Not one. Nothing. The gardeners were not even done with the spring cleanup.
The eventual destination of my wanderings was the Ermita de San Antonio de la Florida, where the Panteón de Goya is located.

Google maps decided to take me on a somewhat shady route through a pedestrian bridge over the train tracks. I admit I hesitated, mostly because there was a corner I could not see around. I continued because I saw some other people (way) further ahead. This reaction was mostly out of habit, San Juan -where I live and hang out- is not the safest city on the planet, and not because I felt threatened in any way.

I’ll take this chance to say that I got back to the hotel after midnight on more than one occasion, on foot by myself and never felt unsafe in any way. Madrid is a super safe city. Not that it is free of petty crime, normal urban-center precautions need to be taken. I’m surprised first at how careless some people were with their possessions, and second that these were still there when they finally had the common sense to collect them.

If you are interested in the subject of Goya and his work, google the two identical side-by-side small churches. One is the functioning church and the other building houses the artist's pantheon. The paintings on the cupola were worth the trip to its somewhat inconvenient location. Marvelous art! (Take a taxi.)

In the pantheon building there was a small room where they projected a film about Goya and the history of the twin churches. It was dark and nicely cool on one of the first warm days of spring. You know where this is heading, right?

I probably snored and drooled publicly through three or four showings of the documentary. My best estimate was that I slept for around 40 minutes! Yes, I was somewhat pleasantly surprised that all my belongings were still on me when I woke up.

Embarrassing. There probably is at east one cautionary youtube video of me, mouth wide open and head against the wall, warning people to travel when they are young. Oh well. I got my nap after all.

Feeling refreshed (no kidding!?!) I made my way back up to center where I plunked down at an outdoor terrace behind the Teatro Real to enjoy one of the most iconic Spanish summery drinks, a ‘gintonic’. Ordered in a single word without the middle ‘and’.

A toast to Maitaitom and his wife, the ever-patient Tracy.

I enjoyed people watching as I nursed my drink for more than an hour under a gloriously bright blue sky, the exact shade that instrgram filters try to emulate. It was a delight to be out in the sun.

Eventually it was time to move on. Up through Cava Baja until I sat down at another bar at the pedestrian-busy intersection of Cuchilleros and Puerta Cerrada. Prime people watching! Even got to see pretty pups out on their afternoon walk.

I got a ridiculously mayo-laden potato tapa that I didn’t like much but wound up eating most of it anyway. Why do we do these things to ourselves?

By then it was almost nightfall and I had to make a dinner decision. I wasn’t that hungry (remember the burger AND the mayonnaise with potatoes). But there was one thing I wanted to try after hearing the tour guide at La Encarnación make a recommendation to a couple in the group. They had asked for the best place to have a Bocadillo de Calamares, a fried calamari sandwich, one of Madrid’s top late-night staples, and the guy had answered without hesitation: Bar La Campana, on a small street off the Plaza Mayor. He even called his firefighter friend at the station next door to the bar to confirm the address.

Even more carbs? Sure. Not really hungry? Not a problem. I was on vacation, had probably walked more than 13.1 miles throughout the day, and had been given a prime local tip. Go for it is ALWAYS the answer.

This is why I will never be really thin. And I’m OK with that. Except sometimes at yoga class. But I get over it quickly.

Bar La Campana was as much about the experience as about the food. This is about as Old School as it gets. Probably has not been renovated much since the 1950's. Located less than 30m from tourist central, the street opens directly from the Plaza Mayor, it is a haven for locals in need of cheap, quick, and filling fare. And of course, a few wandering tourists as well. Not for the first time I marveled at how close ‘off the beaten path’ and ‘the local experience’ can be.

- What can I get you? (Shouted over the bar as soon as I walked in) - I was told this was THE place for a Bocadillo de Calamares.
- You got that right. What do want to drink?
- A house white.
- Find yourself a place.

Short and to the point. No ‘Hi my name is Chad and I will be your server tonight’. This is a business transaction in a super busy bar and they will accommodate you only as far as it does not interfere with tending to other customers.

Did I fall in love with this carb-festival combination? No. For my palate I would have preferred crispier calamari and less fluffy bread. I guess its one of those things you have to grow up with. But I’m glad I had it. Betcha it is great hangover food.

The best part of the experience was the son and father sitting next to me. Kid was around 6 years old. They were playing at ‘menu del dia’. Each had a chance to come up with the perfect combination of dishes for each family member. The kid thought his mom would like cocido soup for first, fish and potatoes for second, and strawberries with cream for dessert. Dad agreed that the son’s proposal was better than his own.

There I was, in the Plaza Mayor shortly after 9:00pm. Not sleepy after my unplanned nap. Perfect timing for Flamenco!!!!

The choice of venue was a no brainer (not for artistic value but for being 25m away from my hotel): Tablao Cardamomo. And they had a 10:00pm show, nap or not I did not think I would hold out until midnight. Ten minutes later I was sitting on a stage-side tiny table with a complimentary (well, included in the price) glass of wine.

Some guests had tapas/dinner during the show. Though everything looked good, this is very unpractical. The tables are very small and there was no space to comfortably lay all the plates they bring. The diners’ attention was constantly taken away from the show so that they could deal with their food and pass plates around.

The venue is small. The seats to the back are raised auditorium style. I think that everyone in the seats that face the front of the stage gets a good view. I’m not so sure about those with the side view.

The cast consisted of 5 ‘cantaores’, 3 guitar players, 2 male dancers, and 2 female dancers. The show lasted around an hour and I really enjoyed it.

Though it was nowhere even on the same planet as the María Pagés show I had seen, the quality of the singing, dancing, and costumes was up to par with other commercial flamenco venues I have visited in the past. I thought that the €39 that I paid for admission and the drink was a very fair price for a solid performance. The story might be different had I partaken on one of their dining options.

The neighborhood was booming when I left after the show, but I had no energy or interest to keep going. Fifteen minutes later I was showered and fully asleep in my hotel bed.

Great report. Making us want to head back to Madrid ... and yes, a refreshing GinTonic makes any day better. Fun to read along on your adventure.

((H))

I have lived 46 years in Madrid and the city keeps surprising me with awesome things. The idea that you can get to know the city in 3 days is absurd.

Loving this Maristella. Your trip reports are always such a joy to read - I just love your enthusiasm and vitality! Heading to Spain again in September and October. I just can't get enough of it :)

BTW, its great to meet another spreadsheet junkie. Every scintilla of planning goes into my spreadsheet. I would not be able to function without it :)

Day 6 – Thursday / Last Full Day
 

Last day. Last chance to fit in the daytrip to Alcalá de Henares. I tried to muster the enthusiasm. Not happening. I stink at this daytrip thing. And after 5 days of aggressive sightseeing, I was physically tired. OK. No daytrip.

A lazy day was in order. Yeahhhhhh, well….. At least that was my intention.

Several times during the week I had tried to go into one of Madrid’s most famous and traditional bakeries, La Mallorquina. Located directly on the Puerta del Sol plaza, it is frequented by locals and tourists alike. This is the kind of establishments where out-of-town Spaniards will not consider a visit to the city complete until they have had a few of their goodies and seems also to be the go-to place to buy sweets to bring wherever you are going for Sunday lunch.

But every time I had tried to approach, the place was packed to the point that I could not even take pictures. I consider myself a reasonably assertive person but fighting it out for counter space on a Sunday requires old-lady-with-sharp-elbows-level skills and frankly, I’m not there yet.

Being my last day in town, my quest for coffee early on Thursday morning led me there. Surprise! It was crowded, but manageable.

Everything in La Mallorquina is beautifully made and picture perfect. I’m sure all their desserts taste great, but I was looking for savory pastries and the selection was not extensive. I finally ordered a tuna empanada which had great texture but too many olives for my taste. Coffee was excellent; though I think I’ve never had bad coffee in Spain with the notable exception of big hotel buffets and their thermos.

La Mallorquina has an upstairs dining/sit down area. I’m not sure what the ordering protocol is but they have a waiter/bouncer guarding the stairs. He had to get an ‘let her pass’ nod from the guy that served me coffee before I could go up and use the restroom. Honestly, not my cup of tea (or coffee).

On my sixth day in Madrid, there was just one item remaining on my mid-priority list. My desire to visit was based on a casual mention by fellow Fodorite danon on my planning thread: the Cerralbo Museum. A place I had never heard of before that.

Danon, I owe you a drink if we ever meet in person.

The palace houses the art and historical object collections of Enrique de Aguilera y Gamboa, 17th Marquis of Cerralbo, who died in 1922. The building was conceived and built to serve not only as a palatial family home befitting their station, but also -and even more important- to showcase to his prodigious collection.

OoooMmmmGggg.

The number of objects in this palace is mind blowing and nothing is treated casually. The marquis donated the estate to the government on the condition that every object must remain exactly as he had set it up for display.

There is everything and anything that caught the marquis’ attention: Samurai armors, Phoenician vases, Greek and Roman coins, Iberic weapons, Ottoman tea sets, Murano chandeliers, paintings by Spanish masters, jewelry, tapestries, ceramics, magical clocks, first editions of rare books…. Even the wallpaper is original, remarkably preserved, and simply exquisite.

The Marquis certainly did not lack good taste. Or funds.

I even took the optional guided tour (seldom happens) and stuck it out (I usually bail out ASAP). And then revisited the entire palace at my own pace to savor all the details. What an exquisite and utterly fascinating experience!

I never expected to spend that much time on the visit, but almost 4 hours went by in a flash.

Technically, I my visit to Madrid was done. Everything on The Spreadsheet had been covered, and then some. But I still had most of the day ahead of me and I was certainly not going to spend it doing nothing!

Wandering along Bailén street took me past the Royal Palace (been there, done that, had no intention of revisiting) when I saw a sign stating that although the palace was not open to visits for the remaining part of the month, two tours were still being offered: The Armory and… The Royal Kitchen. That sparked my interest immediately.

There were not more than 5 people in queue (all wanting to see the palace, not believing that it was not open for visiting), so I went to see if there was space available. 10 minutes later I had a ticket in my hand for later in the day; perfect timing to enjoy lunch.

After stopping to read menus along the street for something on the ‘lighter’ side, I finally settled on Restaurant Taberneros. I usually do not like to sit on fully exposed sidewalk tables to avoid obnoxious beggars but the day was so nice that I grabbed one when I saw it available.

The menu for the day consisted of a slice of toast thickly smeared with paté, house salad with chicken on a very nice gingery dressing, and grilled fish with a side of mashed root vegetables and peppers. Everything was tasty enough that I would have even considered going back to the restaurant had I had more time in the city.

The tour of the Royal Kitchen starts with a long (loooooong) walk through the palace grounds. The group is tightly herded by palace guards and there was no straggling allowed. Do not forget to take a jacket along if you ever do this tour. It was cold down there! At least 15 degrees lower than the outside.

Once you are there, you find out this is not a tour per se, it is an escorted visit. This means that you are on your own; you must read the placards for information. I enjoyed tremendously the visit, but I’m entirely biased as I love cooking and kitchens.

The kitchen -in its current form- was is used from the mid 1800’s -when it got every technological bell and whistle available- until the 1970’s. All very interesting. There was also a display of china which I’m not nearly as interested in. The visit was over in less than an hour and we were left by the main courtyard to make our way out by ourselves. I was able to walk to the back balcony to take a few pictures.

For me, acknowledging my bias, a highly recommended visit if you have interest on the subject.

It was 5:20pm. I was not tired and it was still early to call it quits. Hummmm… maybe I could implement the crazy plan that had been hatching in my mind; the chance to get to see the one thing I had been denied access to in Madrid. Time to head back to El Prado. Again. The place that had not even been included in the top-tier itinerary.

Pay attention because this is an actual touring hack: I knew that El Prado is free after 6:00pm, but I was not aware of the real ‘deal’: admissions to temporary exhibit are at half price AND you get admittance to the museum with it. Entirely bypassing the 1,234 people on the free admission queue. Not that full admission price would break the bank, but its the principle that counts. And after 6:00 you cannot even pay the admission price if you wanted to.

My visit earlier that week, sadly cut short as I approached the Flemish masters, had left me hankering for some Rubens (well, and that cloister). So I was more than happy to purchase a ticket for the ‘Rubens Painter of Sketches’ exhibit.

I was second in the Exhibits line at 5:55pm and heading at full speed towards the cloister at 6:02pm.

When the museum started working on its massive expansion, the Jerónimos Cloister was completely disassembled, moved to a workshop in Alcalcá, subjected to massive restoration, and rebuilt on its original site before it became exhibition space.

I made it as far as the escalator. The two ladies in charge of closing the cloister were just ahead of me. Once again, pleading my case politely paid off. They let me in for a quick peek, all I asked for.

The baroque cloister is beautiful. Tall and airy, though fully enclosed. I was very happy to visit but it lacked that je ne sais quoi that attracts me to cloisters. I must have been a happy cloistered nun on a past life, lol.

The ‘Rubens Painter of Sketches’ was extremely interesting. I’m not a diehard fan of Rubens but I was mesmerized by the power of the studies on canvas. I will go as far as to say that I actually preferred the sketches to the finished work. I found the exhibit very educational and well curated. And a bargain at half price.

It was not even 7:00 PM, I had time to go visit Hieronymus Bosh’s Garden of Delights and made it all the way to Goya’s Dark Paintings before getting kicked out at 7:59:59 PM when the staff starts their incredibly efficient herding operation. I think the museum is cleared of visitors in less than 10 minutes.

Still giddy from my ultimate success at -for the first time EVER- getting to see every single Top and Mid Priority Items on The Spreadsheet while fully enjoying each visit, I headed for a stroll through el Parque del Buen Retiro. I was by the pond (well, at the outside café with a glass of wine at hand) when the golden hour hit. It was picture perfect!

Since I was on a roll, I figured I would go to Restaurant Arzabal and see if I could get a table as reservation-less walk-in. Place was packed but it worked! I was given a high table in the bar area and close to the door, but I was seated.

As an amouse bouche I got a slice of Spanish potato tortilla which was scrumptious; firm potatoes loosely bound with an almost custardy egg mixture. We were off to a good start. I only ordered dishes in which half-portions were available. My first course was a slice of perfectly seared foie with a fig and garnacha wine reduction. Heavenly.

Second course was a thick stew of venison with root vegetables. Sounds simple but the flavors were expertly layered achieving a delectable complexity. I decided that I had space for one more: a soupy stew of lentils with partridge. All earthy goodness in a tiny pretty pot. All this with two glasses of Spanish cava for €47. Highly, highly recommended.

I walked through the Puerta de Alcalá on the way back to the hotel, fitting I guess, since that is how close as I ever got to that town on this trip.

And that was it. A week in Madrid gone by in a flash.

This was the longest solo trip I have taken. And it was an enlightening experience. Yes, I would have preferred the Hubs’ company (I still like him after all this years!) but on the other hand, he would have absolutely and profoundly hated my museum-intensive itinerary.

And that is the wonderful thing about solo travel: you get to do exactly what YOU want to do, for as long as YOU want to do, and as many times as YOU want to. No compromises required.

I started loading the edited travelogue onto Wordpress, in case anyone is interested: http://stellasspoon.com/2018/07/14/h...dly-solo-trip/

I will include pictures there as well as in the facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Stellas-Spoon-467296603481674/

I’ve enjoyed reading every single word of your trip report! I love your writing style, and I admit a weird weakness for convents & monasteries, too.

It has been over 10 years since I last was in Madrid and how fun to “join you” on your trip. That last trip was partly to visit a dear man from Madrid; since he was working I had much “solo” time in the day, and it was the first Madrid visit where I really fell in love with the city. The man helped, ha ha, but it was not just that. I’d been several times when younger with my Spain-loving parents and my siblings and then with friends in our backpacking days, and I’d always been drawn more to the castles & walled cities, the coast, the white villages, and Andalusia. Madrid I didn’t really enjoy as much.

Solo time and time with multigenerational Spanish friends really made a difference. Thank you for bringing back great memories!

Add me to the spreadsheet group and add my love of Sorolla. Thanks for this super TR, marigross.

Loved your report :)

Thank you all! I'm still (STILL!!!) figuring out the new format and I lost the replies I thought I had posted.

This is the (much edited!!!) version of Day 2: http://stellasspoon.com/2018/07/16/hola-madrid-lets-do-this/

I enjoyed every word! I look forward to meeting you in Valencia next March.

I'm ridiculously excited about the Valencia Get Together!!! I adore the city and then to meet so many Fodorites IRL ((Y))

Link to Day 2
 

This is the much-edited link to the blog entry:

https://stellasspoon.com/2018/07/18/...isappointment/