Madrid, Spain
October 23, 2014
For a week, Glenda and were crazy
tourists in Madrid. I'd arrived a day earlier and get settled into
an apartment we'd rented for the week. I gave myself a luxury I
rarely do and sat in the apartment’s bathtub for over an hour. I
felt filthy from four weeks of different beds, hotels and various
apartments. The next day, the 18th, I met Glenda at the
airport. She'd arrived, but her luggage hadn't. All of this was
fine by me. I needed a day off after the frenetic traveling of the
preceding month.
Sunday, we set off for the center of
the city and just explored. I'd been to Madrid before, years ago,
but the city was lost to memory. My 1982 journal did not speak well
of my time in Spain's capital because it truly did like the city 30+
years later. I loved its architecture and its parks. In many ways
it was as if I were visiting the city for the first time.
For two days we navigate Madrid on the
Hop-On/Hop-Off bus, stopping often to visit parks and churches, but
in truth we never really see the principal sites—The Royal Palace
and the Prado Museum—until the end of the week. I never do well in
places like this. They're so jammed-packed with history and things
to see that I just go into overload almost immediately. And this is
what happened at the Prado. After four hours of one world
masterpiece after another, I said to Glenda... “I'll meet you in
front of Boticelli's 'Three Graces.'” I just sat there and
preferred people-watching to art.
Midweek, I took the day off, had a
haircut, prepared dinner and just stayed in the whole day. Glenda
took for the Escorial. Both of us had a great day.
Thursday, we went to Avila and Segovia.
I'd wanted to take the train to Segovia, spend the day there, taking
my time to see the city and enjoy what it had. Instead, I joined a
tour which I should have known in advance would be a disappointment.
And it was. We were hustled from one place to another without any
opportunity to really enjoy where we were.
Que pena, as the Spaniards would
say. What a shame. It was a glorious day full of cool blue
sunshine. We had climbed in altitude and by this time in mid-October
the leaves were at full peak color. Towering elms glowed yellow
against the blue sky. How I wish I'd been able to just sit, soak up
this gorgeous autumn day instead of being dragged along on a tour.
Lesson learned. No more!
A week to the day I arrived we left
Madrid and took the train to Barcelona. Madrid had left a wonderful
impression on me and I could see myself returning, but for a longer
stay.
A week had not been enough.
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