The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly in the Plain...

That proved to be a fallacy.

Saturday 9/10/10 (European and correct metric style of date)


When we arrived in Madrid after three flights and eighteen hours (that's the downside of booking your flights on Airmiles points), the rain was pelting down, with cloud cover so thick that it was almost dark at 10am. Cars hydroplaned through the flooded streets, soaking pedestrians hunched under their seldom used umbrellas. It could have been a bit of a downer but we're Vancouverites (and proud of it) and we're so used to it. We never let a bit of rain stop our fun. If we did, we'd never have any fun.


Arriving at our hotel a bit too early to check-in, we stored our luggage after digging out the umbrella and took a sloshy stroll around the neighbourhood. By the time we got our room, exhaustion had set in and we dove into bed, snoozing for a couple of hours. We needed to acclimatize to the nine hour time difference so wouldn't sleep any longer.


Madrid's main railway station, Atocha is just down the road from our hotel and there's a Metro (subway) stop in there too. We decided to buy a ten-pack of Metro tickets for 9 Euro, saving 10% over individual purchase. Trying to decipher the Spanish instructions, we got to the payment screen which gave us the option of cash (bills or coins) or credit card. So, in I plunked my Visa card and nothing happened..... I canceled the transaction but the behemoth had gobbled up and probably digested my credit card. Panic set in. First day of travel and my Visa was gone. I violently hit all the buttons hoping to get help. Finally, a slow-moving sourpuss of a woman sauntered up and I babbled and gestured saying something like “Credito cardo is stucko in el machino”. The Spanish phrase book was useless in this situation. She obviously understood me because she unhooked a giant ring of skeleton keys from her belt and opened up the beast. There sat my shiny Visa card. It will never go into another vending machine again. NEVER! We completed the transaction with cash having learned a hard lesson and jumped on a train into Sol, the central hub of the city.



In spite of the drizzle, crowds undulated through the puddles huddled under umbrellas. But it was Saturday night in Madrid – time to party. We strolled for a while but our exhaustion won out and we found a window seat in a noisy tapas bar where we devoured a bottle of Rioja and nibbled on the little plates of scrumptious goodies. Crusty country bread and giant green olives arrived gratis with our drinks and then came croquettes and chorizo and mushrooms. Yummy!


Great introduction to Spain. Our legs were wobbly as we Metro'd and walked the remaining half mile to our hotel where we collapsed into bed and slept for ten hours.

Sunday, 10/10/10 (our son David's birthday 44 years ago)


Feeling re-energized, we metro'd to Chamartin Station on the north side of the city where we had breakfast – a tortilla de patate and churros. Seems like that is one of the local favourites – it's actually like an omelette; no tortilla as we know them is involved. Fernie loves their Cafe con leche and I'm amazed that they make amazing tea.


A quartet of 'bad girls' 18 to 21ish, boarded the metro a couple of stops after us, reeking of cigarettes and booze. They threw their half-dressed bodies into the seats beside and across from us shrieking and bickering in their post-drunken state, throwing their legs up on the seats in wild abandon. The one beside Fernie was the worst, sloshing the liquid out of her cocktail glass at her friend Alessandro across the aisle. We were about to get off the Metro and re-board in another car when they got off. Phew!


I'd pre-booked the high-speed AVE train to Segovia which is about 90km northwest of Madrid.


A tunnel straight through the mountains got us into Segovia in 25 minutes. The station was a few miles out of town so we took a bus from the station to Centro and walked around the compact city visiting all the usual haunts – the Alcazar, gothic cathedral, aqueduct and wonder of wonders, a geocache. Segovia reminded us very much of Tallinn, Estonia with the cobbled winding streets, spires and old Roman walls (but I suppose the walls in Tallinn aren't Roman – my friend Bob would pull me up on this). The must see in Segovia is the Roman aqueduct, a massive, towering structure that looks like it could have been built yesterday. I guess they don't make stonemasons like that anymore.



We've obviously been affected by so much time spent with a certain couple of gourmand friends, whose names will remain unmentioned. They've traveled a lot but the way they remember where they've been is by the meals they've had. Now I always thought that pitiable and a sure way to greater girth but it seems that they won out; they've converted us. Hence my greater girth. The meals we have in the little cafes in the local style with a great area wine are totally memorable. So humour me as throughout this missive, you'll have to endure tales of what we ate and drank....that is 'if you read it'.


So that out of the way, our lunch in Segovia was in a tight little pub up on the hillside, where we found a window seat tucked in behind a massive pillar with a panoramic view of the aqueduct and the tiled roofs. I had a wonderful vino tinto – a Rioja Crianza (a more aged Rioja) and Fernie (the beer man) loves the Spanish beer which is light and sweet. Pan (bread) and big green olives are immediately served in most establishments with drinks and we paired it with a cheese plate and squid. I've never tasted cheeses like those – they were delectable.


Spain must be one of the cheapest countries in Europe with a glass of wine about 2 Euro and a beer a bit over 1 Euro. It usually means that I never stop at one glass of wine.


The sun burned off the early morning fog but the clouds remained, often ominously heavy and dark., We were happy that the sun fought its way through from time to time and the temperature was perfect – with no rain.


We took the train back to Madrid in the late afternoon and an elderly couple were in our seats – but how do you argue when they don't speak English and we don't speak Spanish. I showed them our tickets but they shrugged and argued and pointed to the next car obviously suggesting we go there into a couple of the empty seats. What a nerve! But what the heck, there was no point in pushing the issue because the seats in the next car were just the same. Fernie disagrees with that....he still says we should have kicked them out. I think that we're the visitors and we don't want to give a bad impression even thought they were in the wrong.

Occasionally, strolling musicians (if you can call accordion players, musicians) hop on the Metro and play between a couple of stops, then walk around with their hats collecting and then jump off again to hit the next train. It's quite charming and people are generous in dropping coins into their caps.

Something wonderful happened on the Metro that made me feel almost young again. A young woman offered her seat to another older woman beside me who was about my age. The older woman thanked her but turned it down. She didn't offer it to me. This occurred twice more and in spite of aching feet, I was elated.


Surrounding Puerta del Sol in Old Madrid is a labyrinth of narrow, winding lanes lined with tapas bars. This became our nightly hangout. Sidewalk cafe/bars one after the other are often full if you arrive after 9pm which is the Spanish dinner hour. The rough-hewn streets teem with Madrilenos, looking for the perfect place for vino or dinner or maybe just out for an evening stroll. The elderly make up a good percentage of the amblers; unlike North American seniors who are mostly to be found in front of the television, the Spanish Jubilados get out of the house, they dress nicely and they wander, sometimes meeting friends unexpectedly and then they'll join up for a glass of fine Crianza or a pitcher of Sangria or a pint of the local Cerveza, What a wonderful society!


It is quite common in bars to be served a free tapa(s) or two with your drink. It is a lifestyle that I envy and wish Vancouver could incorporate the societal attitude. Otherwise, we might just have to pack up Casey and fly him over here. It is also a dog loving society and in the evening after work a myriad of pampered pooches (mostly small breeds but a smattering of big dogs too) hit the laneways with their owners. We've met several westies so far.

Today we put 12 plus miles (20km) on our shoe leather

Monday, 11/10/10


Slept in to 8:05am intending to get up at 7. It was panic time and I hate rushing in the morning – as a matter of fact, I can get quite shaky and light-headed. The train left at 9:20 so we made it in plenty of time but no tea or coffee first. The high-speed Ave whisked us to Toledo in no time arriving at 9:50. It's a great system.


High on a hilltop, Toledo is chock full of narrow alleyways which we suddenly discovered are not alleys but roads, when a car squeezed through the tight little laneways. We jumped into the nearest alcove, niche or doorway rather than risk being squished. A monstrous and ornate (as is usual in Spain) cathedral, several monasteries and convents, a slew of churches and the Alcazar dwarf the surrounding buildings, With a tolerant history of Christians, Jews and Muslims cohabiting the small area, Toledo sets a standard we'd be lucky to witness today.


Toledo was, and apparently always is, teeming with tourists with so many of those awful bus tours – Trafalgar are big. What a nightmare it would be to be expected to traipse behind a pedantic tour guide, like cows being led to slaughter. It gives me the willies at the realization that we could soon be at the age that we'd need to join one. Maybe we'll just give up travel at that point. It was bad enough having to deal with the groups. It seems that they feel they have to stick so closely together, that if you want to get through, they panic at being separated. They made me a bit cranky.


Memories were rekindled when I noticed the shop windows were full of black and gold jewelery and other items with designs etched into the metal. Artisans all over Toledo craft these pieces. When my mother was 85, she visited Spain and brought me back a lovely pair of hoop earrings etched in black and gold. That would have been about 1992 and I still wear them. It caused a wave of nostalgia to wash over me because I remember how much she wanted me to go with her and I of course was working for a living and couldn't spare the time. Now I wish I had just made the time.


We found a little bar with a terrace serving croissants, cafe & te for desayunos (breakfast) from where we organized our day ahead in Toledo. Our leg muscles were tested with all the ups and downs but we hit all the spots and more and once we were away from the 'groups' we were happy. We ended the day with tapas, Rioja & cerveza on a patio in the town square then walked the mile and a half up and over a hill to the station – there was a geocache up the hill and I want to get just one cache in each of our stops. So back to Madrid on the 5:30 train.


It proved to be so painless with our pre-booked Renfe rail tickets. We were able to show up just before train departure, watch for the platform notification and walk right on, Seamless; I'd highly recommend it.

Vegetarian friends and granddaughter don't read the next paragraph or risk being offended.


We took the Metro to Sol once again and had dinner at the highly touted Museo de Jamon (Museum of ham), a chain restaurant. It is a highly unusual butcher shop. The main floor counters of ham of all sorts (the Iberico is supposedly gourmet and very pricey), chorizo and a myriad of other sausages & meats. Fernie LOVES ham so he chose the restaurant. Me? I'm not so crazy about it. However, we had ham tapas, the ham a much drier and smokier version than hours; it was excellent. Rioja & sangria to wash it down. Strangely, we decided to have a non-ham dinner and shared a paella, with pan (crusty bread) of course. It's a good thing that neither of us are celiacs because bread is where it's at in Spain.


Today we walked nine plus miles (15km)

Tuesday 12/10/10

I slept very poorly – not Fernie though. I think the ham was highly salted because I was puffy and retaining fluids. Also, age is rearing its ugly head because my hips were sore from all the climbing in Toledo. So anyway, we slept in a bit. Just Madrid today.

El Prado is an internationally renowned art gallery much as the Louvre in Paris and the Hermitage, in St. Petersbourg. And Tuesdays just happen to be 'free' days. Only a cheapo would organize their touring around free entry. I think it's exceptional planning, wasn't it? I love art galleries but I'm not so hot on museums but I found there were too many Renaissance artists represented which of course means, Jesus et al and it gets a bit tiresome. I would have liked some Picasso and Dali. There was one painter that piqued my interest and I must research his work when I get home. He is called Bosch or El Bosco in Spain.

Points of interest:
Mostly it seems they don't understand 'banos' in Spain. Toilets are called 'aseos' which translates as 'care of the body', a euphemism much like our 'restrooms'. I guess Spaniards are more gentile than Mexicans where 'banos' seems to be used exclusively.

The people are so friendly in Spain, unlike France where you're amazed to see a welcoming smile. The Spaniards we've met so far are always willing to try to understand and will go out of their way to help us.

Recycling is big. Everywhere we go, they have bins with 3 separate compartments for cans, bottles and garbage. The cities are clean; standards are high.

Scarves – if you're not wearing one in Madrid, you're not dressed. I love scarves so quickly picked up a couple. (Fernie says it was my scarves that first caught his attention 31 years ago)

Our Madrid tour book had a well outlined walking tour that we followed for the afternoon through Old and Bourbon Madrid and over to Palacio and the west. We stopped every couple of hours for drinks and snacks and to rest our weary bones. I always think it's funny in Europe that wine and beer are cheaper than soft drinks, coffee or tea. So what am I to do? Wine it is.


Madrid is a beautiful city in its grandiose architecture, historical areas and the attitude of the people..The royal palace is on the west side of town and all along the front is open for the people of Madrid to enjoy. The pedestrian mall is full of buskers of all kinds and crowds of people enjoy strolling here while the wealthy elderly matrons from the surrounding snazzy area sip tea in the many sidewalk cafes.


It was back to Sol and its twisting alleyways for dinner – tapas and vino tinto, Each night we choose different tapas so we constantly try something new

Our bodies hurt – hips knees and everywhere. No wonder – we clocked 16 plus miles (25km). We need a day of rest. Perhaps tomorrow we'll take it easier.