jelopez33

Sorry;but where are your pictures posted?Excellent report by the way(we live in Uruguay but my DW is a spaniard)

Viajero2

The yellow tulips at the park across the Madrid Royal Palace are the most beautiful yellow tulips I have ever seen!

Just a quick note that there is no Museo del Jambon, but Museo del Jamon (I believe Jambon is French...?). You would find it spelled Jambon often, but it is incorrect spelling if you are trying to write it in Spanish....

AnnMarie_C

I'm so glad you are all enjoying the report so far--I really appreciate hearing from you.

Another mis-spelling, ugh--so sorry! Thank you for the correction, Viajero.

jelopez, you can either click on my name to find the photo post, or, click on the link below...

http://preview.tinyurl.com/3gvt5c

yk, that's the store! Either A. they ran out while you were there, or, B. you created an international incident.

ComfyShoes

Very nice, AnnMarie. Until now, you guys seem to be into the museums (Madrid has some of the best on the planet), but I envy you for seeing the Modigliani exhibit (what a quirky artist.... the town I live has two of his paintings in its museum, and you can spot'em from fa....r away)! I like much of what you write. Well, except I can't stand cheese that smells like anyone's feet

AnnMarie_C

Hi ComfyShoes--so nice of you to tune in, I so enjoyed your trip report! In fact, I brought a copy of it with us. The Modigliani exhibit was indeed a treat! ...rhymes with feet.


Saturday morning we awaken to the sound of the alarm clock. It’s a crisp, sunny morning. We enjoy a quiet walk to Atocha and make it there just in time to miss the 8:30 train to El Escorial. DH buys our tickets from the Cercanias window without consulting me. Can’t imagine what would possess him to do this, lol. I ask DH if the tickets are for the C8A train—he doesn’t know, says they’re for the next train to ES, so I ask the clerk at the window how many stops our train makes. He thinks a minute, winces and tells me maybe 10. Okay, so we’re on the slow train, the C8. Coming and going. Woo hoo!

We board the double decker train and depart on time, about 9:30, for the hour and 10 minute ride. Once we exit the under ground, and escape the surrounding city, we enjoy the scenery—it reminds me a bit of Texas. My sore feet and legs are happy for the rest. In the end, although it took us twice the amount of time to reach ES, I feel this is a happy accident as we have the chance to just sit back and enjoy the ride.

When we exit the train station there are two taxis waiting, no bus. We’re ready to move so we take a taxi to the top of the hill. DH surveys the large, now pedestrian, entry courtyard area and remembers parking here as a child. The memories for him come in spurts. What a pretty area this is with the foothills of the Sierra de Guadarrama creating a green, lush back drop to the Palace. We buy our tickets, rent the audio guide and for the next several hours are once again amazed at the treasures that behold us.

There are several group tours going on at once in the Palace and by the time we reach the Royal Pantheon, where past and future Spanish monarchs come to rest, it seems everyone within a mile radius has gathered at this one spot at the same time. The stair well down to the Pantheon is stunning to say the least—floor to ceiling marble, jasper and bronze unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Between this room and the other rooms containing tombs the Palace is packed. There’s little room for movement so we don’t linger long in favor of breathing space.

The Basilica is off limits because of a wedding—we’re able to view some parts of it from the gate, such as the magnificent altar, but that’s as far as we get. The library is amazing and brings to mind The Long Room at Trinity College in Dublin. There are rooms filled with gorgeous works of art, furniture and tapestries. This has been just an amazing, worthwhile day trip.

Afterwards, we wander around back to admire the gardens and views. We head back to the Palace and enjoy a snack of sandwiches and coffee before returning to the train station. And speaking of coffee…. the coffee we order in Spain is some of the best we’ve had anywhere—café con leche, oh so good!!

It’s a gorgeous late afternoon and not that we’re looking but there’s no obvious sign of bus or taxi so we walk back to the station. Down hill is no problem but we can’t imagine the long walk up!

At some point during the train ride back to Madrid, I don’t remember where, a group of about 6-7 young men board our car and head for the back. They’re a little rowdy, nothing significant, just loud. Not 2 minutes later two security guards enter from another car, walk straight back to where they are and stand immediately next to the group for the remainder of the trip. The policia are everywhere we go, seemingly on top of everything.

Back at Atocha, we begin to argue about buying train tickets, in advance, for Segovia the next day. Neither of us can think straight so we decide to wait and begin the walk back to our hotel stopping for churros and hot chocolate along the way. Whatever the ailment there’s nothing like an order of churros and hot chocolate to set you right again. What a delicious treat this is, talk about decadent.

By the time we reach the hotel, the sun has set, it’s late and we’re tired but decide to drop our bag off and visit some of the tabernas that fill the streets surrounding our hotel. It’s another beautiful evening and the bars, outdoor cafes are packed. We enjoy a nice evening, making small talk here and there along the way, before calling it a night.

amsdon

Hi AnneMarie!

I was so excited to see your name and wanted to start reading your report right away!

(Tell me, where do you and DH live?)

I agree completely with so many of your comments ("What's not to like?" for example)

As for the B & W film you mention @ the Reina Sofia I believe is "Un Chien Andalou" (French for an Andalusian dog&quot by Luis Bunuel & Salvador Dali...really avant guarde & bizarre. We had an interesting discussion about it on my own trip report.

Please please carry on love your report and writing style!

ana maria

Magellan_5

Gawd, how I miss Madrid! Great trip report AnneMarie_C - you painted a nice picture, and it awakened all of my great memories from my trip last May. Thank you!

yk

< "Un Chien Andalou" >

That's right! You've got good memory. It's a weird movie, I have seen it quite a few times at various museums.

< DH buys our tickets from the Cercanias window without consulting me. Can’t imagine what would possess him to do this, lol. >

That is too funny, AnnMarie. My DH would never even <i>dream</i> of doing anything travel-related without asking me. If it were my DH who did such a thing? Off with his head! You are so much more a forgiving person than me.

Your description of El Escorial sounds wonderful. Made me regret not going there on my last trip (I had to choose btw El Escorial, Toledo, and Segovia for 2 day trips). I guess it gives me an excuse to go back at some point...

AnnMarie_C

Hola Ana Maria! We've been living in San Antonio, TX for the past 19 years...one year left before we return to Maryland and don't you know I'm going to look for non-stop flights back to Madrid!

&quot;Un Chien Andalou&quot; - that's it! What a trip. I can't wait to read the discussion about this in your trip report!

yk, I know exactly how you feel about missing a day trip as we did not make it to Segovia. Very disappointed but I trust everything worked out the way it was meant. Next time, right?!

amsdon

wow amazing you look max 25 years old! How is it possible 19 years?

AnnMarie_C

lol, Ana Maria! Thank you for the compliment--DH turned 46 the day we arrived in Madrid and let's just say I'm not far behind! I believe all the wine we enjoy is pickling us, lol.


Sunday morning finds me up before the alarm, doubled over in pain. Severe abdominal pain.

The night before, I ate sardines and a tuna concoction of some sort that DH did not try—could this be the cause? At this point it doesn’t matter, just give me some meds! Not knowing how this is going to play out we decide to forgo Segovia, a huge disappointment but I think the right decision at the time.

Fresh air may do me some good so we head out to visit El Rastro, the Sunday flea market. We decide to cut through Plaza Mayor and find the sellos convention in full swing. In addition to the tent teeming with visitors the plaza is surrounded by vendors selling lottery tickets, coins, pesetas as well as other sorted trinkets. Also, there are painters selling, creating work. We strike up a conversation with one of the artists whose work catches our eye and end up with one of his oil paintings tucked in our bag.

From here we continue on our way to El Rastro, me clinging to a wall or DH’s arm intermittently. We’re getting some funny looks, clearly I’m in distress, but sitting in the room all day is not an option, what a waste that would be. The affliction, whatever it is, will subside, thankfully, about the time we’re ready to leave for Toledo the next day.

It’s a low energy day, a slow day. And a very sad one at that when I remember I am not the heiress to a shipping magnate I imagine myself to be as I would LOVE to ship a container home full of the salvaged hardware one of the vendors has for sale. Chandeliers, medallions, door knobs, brackets….I pick up some of the pieces, pet them lovingly, and walk away with a tear in my eye. The market is huge, streets wide, and packed with people. Looking up at some of the thorough fares all we see are bobbing heads. There appear to be some terrific clothing bargains. We find another vendor with beautiful furniture. And then there are parts and pieces and stuff I can’t imagine anyone would have use for but they do. When the crowds become too thick, and we have trouble walking, we leave and head out in the direction of Parque del Retiro…but not before heading up the hill to see Puerta de Toledo.

As we’re walking along Ronda de Atocha, just across the way from the train station, about the time the street changes names to Paseo del Prado a young woman with a black quilted jacket worn over her shoulders, the way my grand mother would wear her cardigan, slips in front of us and makes a play for an elderly woman’s handbag. The way she’s wearing the jacket conceals her hand / arm movements. The older woman whips around and, according to DH, cusses her out. It doesn’t appear the girl got anything. We continue on, waiting to cross over to Paseo del Prado when I turn around to find the young girl and her partner in crime right behind us. I direct DH up onto a ledge that allows us to look down at the crowd gathered at this busy intersection—the couple turns around and heads back from the direction in which they came….hell?

The sun is beginning to emerge as we make our way back to the park. This time we fully explore all it has to offer including Palacio de Velazquez and Palacio de Cristal which we missed during our first visit. We love this park. That we had the opportunity to visit it twice makes us very happy. Such a lovely, relaxing environment. Sunday afternoon in the park, what could be better?

After we leave the park we stop in to see the Luca Giordano exhibit on display at the Cason del Buen Retiro located on Calle de Alfonso, just across from the park. There’s a terrific photo display of the building’s history also on display. The art work is, again, beautiful. What a nice surprise to find another Rubens (one of my favorite painters), The Allegory of Peace.

We head back a littler earlier than usual tonight—I need some rest and we need to pack. Tomorrow we leave for Toledo.

AnnMarie_C

Fortunately, our train to Toledo doesn’t depart until 12:20P so we’re able to take this morning at a leisurely pace. We check out of the hotel and enjoy a short taxi ride to Atocha.

At the xray machine, I place my suitcase on the belt before DH and head for the door when I hear the technician request DH’s case be sent through a second time. Uh, oh, they must have found his Swiss Army knife. DH and his luggage are escorted behind a screened wall along with three guards who want to see his passport. Information is written down, the luggage is searched. DH is not attached to the Swiss Army and tells them to keep if it’s an issue. This is one of those times I am so grateful DH speaks Spanish as well as he does because it is so important at a time like this to be able to communicate clearly. The guards are very nice to us and return the knife to DH telling him that on their screen it looked much larger—whew. We thank them and apologize profusely for the trouble before we leave.

We board the train, easily finding our car, seats. Next thing we know, right on time, the city begins to move past the train—amazingly smooth and comfortable, surely the train isn’t moving. This is the most comfortable of trains we have ever had the pleasure of riding—so smooth! Makes us want to travel the entire country by train, we are really impressed. Thirty minutes later we arrive in Toledo to find the prettiest train station we have ever laid eyes on. The woodwork and tile are just beautiful. Once outside we manage to hire the lone taxi driver for the quick drive to our hotel, The Hostal del Cardenal, Paseo De Recaredo, 24.

Remember those large suitcases we drug around the streets of Madrid in search of our hotel that first day? Well, they’re about to be hauled up precarious sets of stone steps. We enter the hotel grounds through an 11th century wall with beautiful wooden doors to the grounds which are an oasis of stone, trees, plants, flowers—we are tickled beyond belief at how pretty it is here.

Somewhere, though, I feel we’re being watched -- the savy porters quite possibly see our cases and hide, lol. I would have! We’re so happy to be here we manage just fine. My theory is if we can pack, we can haul it. We’re shown a lovely room on the first floor that feels like Spain to me. Dark hard wood floors, carved solid wood doors, detailed hardware—gorgeous. The Hostal del Cardenal was once the summer home of a former archbishop. The details and contents found throughout the building are just a treasure.

Just a minor word of warning…. because the building is old and the floors are wood, we will hear the neighbors above us, loud and clear at times—it’s the thumping of movement above, not the voices. During our second night, around mid-night, I’m certain Michael Flatley and his River Dance troupe move in. This would in no way dissuade me from staying here again and I would, if given no other choice, take a first floor room again—just be aware.

Once we’re unpacked we head up the hill via that amazing escalator system for an on-foot overview of the city. Rain is in the forecast and we want to see, take as many pictures as possible while we can. Fortunately, as it turns out, the rain is minor and falls mostly at night.

We pick up a loaf of bread, some manchego cheese and make our way to the Alcazar, still closed for reconstruction. I recall reading in yk’s trip report that the views are incredible from this vantage point so we want to a look see and find she was right on! It feels a little neglected back here, though. What looks like what was once a beautiful park is over run with trash and graffiti. It’s a disappointment to see, in more ways than one. I wonder if the closing of the Alcazar and lack of tourists in the area have contributed to the demise and hope with the re-opening it will be cleaned up.

We’re nearly the only one’s back here and I feel it’s time to go when we discover we’ve acquired a new friend. We take ten steps, he takes ten steps. We stop to look, he stops to look. It’s almost comical…. we and our shadow. We make our way down the hill playing a game of cat and mouse with this guy. At the very bottom we split ways, DH heads straight, I go to the right. The guy heads straight for DH—what he didn’t know, and what we saw long before he did, was the security guard tucked behind the wall at the bottom of the hill. The guard steps out from behind the wall and into the street sending the guy scurrying. We suspect he may have wanted DH’s camera but who knows. Just be aware.

From here we head over to the more populated Plaza Zocodover area and enjoy the very best mazapan in the world! We step inside Santo Tome and order a bag full of goodies. A confectioners delight. This is mazapan unlike anything I’ve ever had—unbelievably scrumptious.

Recouped and refreshed, we visit Museo de Santa Cruz. The main building, in the shape of a Greek cross, is incredible. I’m certain it once was a church and am astounded to learn it was a hospital, founded by Cardinal Mendoza, and at some point an orphanage. The artwork and tapestries, swords, tile work and architecture are incredible. Here you’ll find one of El Grecco’s last works of art, The Assumption. The window lined hall that leads to the WC offers incredible views of the area, fyi.

After the museum we decide to head back to the hotel and rest up before dinner. A light drizzle is beginning to fall. We can’t help but notice that, unlike Madrid, Toledo does celebrate siesta—most all the restaurants, bars and shops we passed on the way in are now closed.

By the time we head out to dinner it is pouring rain. We head in the direction of La Antequeruela, near the bull ring. It’s late but most everything is closed—later I’ll read (yes, that’s right, I work in reverse) that many of the establishments are closed on Monday so time was not the issue. We find a small taberna and order food and drinks. They say they are out of rioja—say what?!? And instead offer a wine from the region, Castilla-La Mancha that I enjoy just as much. Smooth and warm, perfect on a cold and rainy night.

AnnMarie_C

Fortunately, our train to Toledo doesn’t depart until 12:20P so we’re able to take this morning at a leisurely pace. We check out of the hotel and enjoy a short taxi ride to Atocha.

At the xray machine, I place my suitcase on the belt before DH and head for the door when I hear the technician request DH’s case be sent through a second time. Uh, oh, they must have found his Swiss Army knife. DH and his luggage are escorted behind a screened wall along with three guards who want to see his passport. Information is written down, the luggage is searched. DH is not attached to the Swiss Army and tells them to keep if it’s an issue. This is one of those times I am so grateful DH speaks Spanish as well as he does because it is so important at a time like this to be able to communicate clearly. The guards are very nice to us and return the knife to DH telling him that on their screen it looked much larger—whew. We thank them and apologize profusely for the trouble before we leave.

We board the train, easily finding our car, seats. Next thing we know, right on time, the city begins to move past the train—amazingly smooth and comfortable, surely the train isn’t moving. This is the most comfortable of trains we have ever had the pleasure of riding—so smooth! Makes us want to travel the entire country by train, we are really impressed. Thirty minutes later we arrive in Toledo to find the prettiest train station we have ever laid eyes on. The woodwork and tile are just beautiful. Once outside we manage to hire the lone taxi driver for the quick drive to our hotel, The Hostal del Cardenal, Paseo De Recaredo, 24.

Remember those large suitcases we drug around the streets of Madrid in search of our hotel that first day? Well, they’re about to be hauled up precarious sets of stone steps. We enter the hotel grounds through an 11th century wall with beautiful wooden doors to the grounds which are an oasis of stone, trees, plants, flowers—we are tickled beyond belief at how pretty it is here.

Somewhere, though, I feel we’re being watched -- the savy porters quite possibly see our cases and hide, lol. I would have! We’re so happy to be here we manage just fine. My theory is if we can pack, we can haul it. We’re shown a lovely room on the first floor that feels like Spain to me. Dark hard wood floors, carved solid wood doors, detailed hardware—gorgeous. The Hostal del Cardenal was once the summer home of a former archbishop. The details and contents found throughout the building are just a treasure.

Just a minor word of warning…. because the building is old and the floors are wood, we will hear the neighbors above us, loud and clear at times—it’s the thumping of movement above, not the voices. During our second night, around mid-night, I’m certain Michael Flatley and his River Dance troupe move in. This would in no way dissuade me from staying here again and I would, if given no other choice, take a first floor room again—just be aware.

Once we’re unpacked we head up the hill via that amazing escalator system for an on-foot overview of the city. Rain is in the forecast and we want to see, take as many pictures as possible while we can. Fortunately, as it turns out, the rain is minor and falls mostly at night.

We pick up a loaf of bread, some manchego cheese and make our way to the Alcazar, still closed for reconstruction. I recall reading in yk’s trip report that the views are incredible from this vantage point so we want to take a look see and find she was right on! It feels a little neglected back here, though. What looks like what was once a beautiful park is over run with trash and graffiti. It’s a disappointment to see, in more ways than one. I wonder if the closing of the Alcazar and lack of tourists in the area have contributed to the demise and hope with the re-opening it will be cleaned up.

We’re nearly the only one’s back here and I feel it’s time to go when we discover we’ve acquired a new friend. We take ten steps, he takes ten steps. We stop to look, he stops to look. It’s almost comical…. we and our shadow. We make our way down the hill playing a game of cat and mouse with this guy. At the very bottom we split ways, DH heads straight, I go to the right. The guy heads straight for DH—what he didn’t know, and what we saw long before he did, was the security guard tucked behind the wall at the bottom of the hill. The guard steps out from behind the wall and into the street sending the guy scurrying. We suspect he may have wanted DH’s camera but who knows. Just be aware.

From here we head over to the more populated Plaza Zocodover area and enjoy the very best mazapan in the world! We step inside Santo Tome and order a bag full of goodies. A confectioners delight. This is mazapan unlike anything I’ve ever had—unbelievably scrumptious.

Recouped and refreshed, we visit Museo de Santa Cruz. The main building, in the shape of a Greek cross, is incredible. I’m certain it once was a church and am astounded to learn it was a hospital, founded by Cardinal Mendoza, and at some point an orphanage. The artwork and tapestries, swords, tile work and architecture are incredible. Here you’ll find one of El Grecco’s last works of art, The Assumption. The window lined hall that leads to the WC offers incredible views of the area, fyi.

After the museum we decide to head back to the hotel and rest up before dinner. A light drizzle is beginning to fall. We can’t help but notice that, unlike Madrid, Toledo does celebrate siesta—most all the restaurants, bars and shops we passed on the way in are now closed.

By the time we head out to dinner it is pouring rain. We head in the direction of La Antequeruela, near the bull ring. It’s late but most everything is closed—later I’ll read (yes, that’s right, I work in reverse) that many of the establishments are closed on Monday so time was not the issue. We find a small taberna and order food and drinks. They say they are out of rioja—say what?!? And instead offer a wine from the region, Castilla-La Mancha that I enjoy just as much. Smooth and warm, perfect on a cold and rainy night.

BeachGirl247

Bienvenidos, mi amiga!

I'm printing your report to read on my porch today. I'm so glad you had a great trip to Spain. One of our favorite trips ever!

BeachGirl

yk

&lt; DH turned 46 the day we arrived in Madrid and let's just say I'm not far behind! &gt;

You've got to be kidding me, AnnMarie! You and your DH look no older than 35 the most. Perhaps you did some airbrushing to the photos? I want to know what face cream you use!

I'm glad you recovered from the ailment in a day. Well, you know what I'm gonna say - now you have an excuse to go back cuz you missed Segovia. I bet you were glad you didn't end up buying the train tix to Segovia the day before.

I am a bit surprised by how much &quot;potential&quot; crime you witnessed. I didn't see any pickpockets or felt like I was being targeted on my trip; but perhaps I was just too ignorant.

AnnMarie_C

Hola, BeachGirl!

You're so sweet--hope you enjoy reading it. Do note we chickened out on the car rental and took the train instead--girl, you are one brave chica driving the streets of Toledo--oh...my....heck!

I'm headed out for the day and will finish up later.

Enjoy your porch time! Sounds wonderful!

AnnMarie_C

yk, thank you for the compliment--I've been using Lancome for years but I think more than anything, besides the alcohol, lol, it's in the genes...either that or you people need to have your eyes checked, lol. I notice the worse mine get the better I look.

You know, we were surprised, too, by the petty crime but have to say that at no time did we ever feel unsafe or uncomfortable--these incidents were just that, a random moment in a day.

Madrid is probably the safest we've ever felt in a big city, despite the attempted heist--we felt safer there than we do where we live.

AnnMarie_C

I was concerned that spending two nights in Toledo would be too much but it turned out to be the perfect amount of time for us. If the Alcazar and Museo de El Greco were open a third night would have been needed.

It’s Tuesday morning and we awaken to clear skies. On this very busy day we visit Sinagoga La Blanca, the city’s oldest and largest sinagog, Sinagoga de El Transito, Casa Museo de Victorio Macho, Iglesia de Los Jesuitas, which offers amazing birds eye views of the city, Iglesia de S. Roman (Museo de los Concilios), as well as the magnificent Cathedral. Rick Steves refers to the Sacristy as a mini Prado—I wouldn’t go that far but the collection of art work is impressive. We are tickled to discover we share the same last name as the ironworker who built the grille for the choir—this is the first time ever I have found our last name anywhere.

Toledo is lovely and we enjoy wandering the streets, sometimes without looking at a map. The Museo de Victorio Macho offers an insightful, short film on the history of Toledo that is worthwhile—as are the views overlooking the Rio Tajo. Highly recommend it.

We are scheduled to return to Madrid the next day—we enjoy our last evening out in Toledo, happy the throngs of tourist groups are gone for the day.

We leave Toledo for Madrid early Wednesday morning—the train on time and barely a bump along the way. From Atocha we take a taxi to our last of the hotels, Hotel Catalonia Las Cortes, Calle del Prado, 6. This is where I had originally wanted to spend the week but was unable to book six consecutive nights. In the end, I think it worked out for the best. This is a lovely hotel in a terrific location—we just preferred the Preciados. Our room here is really tight, not a lot of storage—I can’t imagine staying in this particular room for a week, however, when the cleaning staff leave open the room across the hall, Room 202, I am astounded by its size and painted ceiling—gorgeous! Since we were staying only one night it’s possible we were placed in one of the smallest of rooms.

We don’t bother to unpack and head over to Casa Hernananz—mama needs new shoes.

We review the laundry list of places we have yet to visit but acknowledge time is running short. We finally decide on the Museo Arqueologico Nacional stopping at the Thyssen for lunch along the way. The museum is terrific but, unfortunately, several of the rooms were closed due to re-construction. For once, DH is running out of steam—we return to the room for a nap before heading out to dinner.

We request a taxi the night before for 7 am—the driver arrives a few minutes early. It’s a quick 20 minute ride to the airport, with traffic. We were surprised at the amount of traffic on the freeways at 7 am. They say New York City is the city that never sleeps—Madrid is another!

Our return flight departs nearly on time and we arrive in San Antonio on schedule. We are so grateful we did not choose American for this trip or surely we would have been stuck somewhere (Dallas). My heart goes out to those passengers not as fortunate as we were in getting home.

There are several places in and around Madrid that we regret not seeing but 10 days just wasn’t enough time…it never is. We absolutely love Madrid and all she has to offer—we are just amazed by all there is to see, do and take in. I can’t imagine spending only 2-3 days in this city or one day in Toledo but that’s me, we’re all different and have our own way.

<b>Thanks to all of you who post on this board</b>—from you I picked up an enormous amount of useful information that helped make our trip a success. Also, Maribel’s Guide, DK Eyewitness Travel Madrid and National Geographic Traveler Madrid proved to be the most useful. The pop-out and Streetwise maps that I’m normally so fond of never left the suitcase—the MapEasy Guide to Madrid covered most all bases for us and was easier to read.

Thank you for taking the time to read my report and for your comments.

Viva yo!

AnnMarie

ComfyShoes

Thanks for your compliment, AnnMarie_C. Interesting visits to Toledo and El Escorial, and for making the most of that somewhat-sick morning. The two incidences of potential robbery are interesting to note (always a useful reminder).

Noting comments of couple posters on &quot;off with the head of DH&quot; (yes yes, lighthearted I know....), as a man myself, I better refrain from comments on age etc.

Have fun!

kenderina

It's great to read you had a wonderful time in Madrid The only thing I feel bad for you Americans is that you cannot enjoy the great theaters and musicals that there are because of the language. Well, I suppose you husband would have been able to enjoy them but then you were too busy the whole time
Hope you come back soon to Spain and get to know other cities too !

By the way, I envy you because I always look at the Preciados Hotel when I have gone there but I still haven't found any offer suitable for me ! I wouldn't change its location for anything in Madrid, really !!