Posts
In a moment you'll get the title of this post and having seen what I did there, should find yourselves helpless with laughter, or at least chuckling merrily. But until we reach that point, let me tell you about Madrid.
My three days in Spain's capital can be pretty much summed up in three words: art, walking and booze. Anyone who knows me even semi well will immediately see that these are three very good things, and will surmise that I had a good time. And you would surmise right, because after a few hours of post-Barcelona blues, I did indeed have a very splendid time and have a new found love for Madrid that I didn't get from my last (and until now, first) visit some years ago. Let's start with the art: Madrid is justly famous for having, in close proximity to one another, three of Europe's and indeed the world's finest art galleries - the Prado, the Centro Reina Sofia and the Thyssen-Bornemisza. Having visited the Prado in the past, but not the others, I made the Thyssen-Bornemisza (named after the absurdly wealthy Baron and Baroness whose private art collection this still, technically, is) my first port of call after checking into my brilliantly located if slightly shabby hotel. It's an interesting collection, and a beautiful space, but it lacks any real wow factor; there are lots of pieces by acknowledged masters, but no masterpieces, if you catch my drift. Far more interesting, and impressive, was the Reina Sofia which I visited on Thursday, which concentrating as it does on European 20th century art, was bursting at the grouting with Dalí, Miró (please just say if that little thingy over the vowels is starting to irritate you) and Picasso, including Pablo's monochrome masterpiece, Guernica, which occupies its own vast room with an accompanying contextual exhibition to bring home the horror of the massacre it portrays.
My favourite art moment however was at neither of the above, but at the Caixa Forum, which I just chanced upon while walking back up Paseo del Prado. It's a striking building, clad in oxidised metal lattice (designed I found out by Herzog de Meuron, they of Tate Modern fame) and housing the art collection of, and temporary exhibitions funded by, la Caixa, one of Spain's big banks. Unusually for an art space in Madrid, it's also free, so in I went and was delighted to find that a whole floor had been dedicated to an exhibition of the work of Alfons Mucha, a brilliant Czech graphic artist to whom PV had introduced me (well to his work anyway, not to the artist who is a) long dead and b) not a personal chum of PV's, as far as I'm aware). Another floor was given over to an exhibition about the life and work of Charlie Chaplin, which I must say is not a subject I thought I'd ever find engrossing but certainly did. Topped off with lunch in the restaurant on the top floor (gazpacho*, chicken schnitzel, truffle tart and a glass of vino for €12 gets my vote any day) during which I was heavily eyed up by a rather handsome bear who was lunching with his parents (yes, Mummy Bear and Daddy Bear - whether or not they were eating porridge I couldn't see) and it was quite a fabulous couple of hours.
*Keen-eyed readers will have noticed that I'm eating a lot of gazpacho. Please be assured that it's not because it's the only thing I can understand on the menu, it's because firstly I love gazpacho and love seeing - or rather, tasting - what each particular restaurant's take on it is, and secondly, it's ridiculously good for you and tomotaoes help to protect your skin from sun damage which as you will all know, I need!
I mentioned walking, and yes, there was a lot of that. Madrid divides up into eight districts, each with its own very particular mood and style, and I managed to walk the length and breadth of six of them and at least pass through the other two. I only used the Metro maybe two or three times, and one of those was to get to the hotel from the airport! Of the eight my particular favourites were Chueca, which although known as Madrid's gay village is also home to some of its coolest bars and one which I have fallen in love with for life: the splendidly named Bar Cock on Calle de la Reina, and Malasaña, the gritty, arty maze of streets north of the arse end of Gran Via, where spit-and-sawdust cervecerias rub shoulders with trendier shops and grungy speak-easys.
The absolute highlight of the stay - and we're getting to the punchline now, folks - was my discovery of the caña tradition. Basically, from about 8pm onwards, if you go to any bar or cafe and order a caña you will receive not only a glass of draught beer (anything from a small wine glass size to a full half pint) and tapas of some sort. There's absolutely no telling just from looking what sort of deal you're going to get; some places offer no more than a bit of bread and salami, while others offer dishes piled high with patatas bravas, chorizo or tuna salad. The one certainty however is that the most you're likely to pay for this privilege is €2, but most often no more than about €1.20-€1.50. Working your way from bar to bar having maybe one or two cañas in each is a very economical way to a) eat yourself silly and b) get slightly pissed, all for very little money indeed.
All in all, I really fell for Madrid and its non-stop, high speed, 24 hour way of life. There really is something very invigorating at being in the thick of it and I'm already excited at the thought of going back. Next stop: Cordoba, where my Andalucia leg of the trip begins!
My three days in Spain's capital can be pretty much summed up in three words: art, walking and booze. Anyone who knows me even semi well will immediately see that these are three very good things, and will surmise that I had a good time. And you would surmise right, because after a few hours of post-Barcelona blues, I did indeed have a very splendid time and have a new found love for Madrid that I didn't get from my last (and until now, first) visit some years ago. Let's start with the art: Madrid is justly famous for having, in close proximity to one another, three of Europe's and indeed the world's finest art galleries - the Prado, the Centro Reina Sofia and the Thyssen-Bornemisza. Having visited the Prado in the past, but not the others, I made the Thyssen-Bornemisza (named after the absurdly wealthy Baron and Baroness whose private art collection this still, technically, is) my first port of call after checking into my brilliantly located if slightly shabby hotel. It's an interesting collection, and a beautiful space, but it lacks any real wow factor; there are lots of pieces by acknowledged masters, but no masterpieces, if you catch my drift. Far more interesting, and impressive, was the Reina Sofia which I visited on Thursday, which concentrating as it does on European 20th century art, was bursting at the grouting with Dalí, Miró (please just say if that little thingy over the vowels is starting to irritate you) and Picasso, including Pablo's monochrome masterpiece, Guernica, which occupies its own vast room with an accompanying contextual exhibition to bring home the horror of the massacre it portrays.
My favourite art moment however was at neither of the above, but at the Caixa Forum, which I just chanced upon while walking back up Paseo del Prado. It's a striking building, clad in oxidised metal lattice (designed I found out by Herzog de Meuron, they of Tate Modern fame) and housing the art collection of, and temporary exhibitions funded by, la Caixa, one of Spain's big banks. Unusually for an art space in Madrid, it's also free, so in I went and was delighted to find that a whole floor had been dedicated to an exhibition of the work of Alfons Mucha, a brilliant Czech graphic artist to whom PV had introduced me (well to his work anyway, not to the artist who is a) long dead and b) not a personal chum of PV's, as far as I'm aware). Another floor was given over to an exhibition about the life and work of Charlie Chaplin, which I must say is not a subject I thought I'd ever find engrossing but certainly did. Topped off with lunch in the restaurant on the top floor (gazpacho*, chicken schnitzel, truffle tart and a glass of vino for €12 gets my vote any day) during which I was heavily eyed up by a rather handsome bear who was lunching with his parents (yes, Mummy Bear and Daddy Bear - whether or not they were eating porridge I couldn't see) and it was quite a fabulous couple of hours.
*Keen-eyed readers will have noticed that I'm eating a lot of gazpacho. Please be assured that it's not because it's the only thing I can understand on the menu, it's because firstly I love gazpacho and love seeing - or rather, tasting - what each particular restaurant's take on it is, and secondly, it's ridiculously good for you and tomotaoes help to protect your skin from sun damage which as you will all know, I need!
I mentioned walking, and yes, there was a lot of that. Madrid divides up into eight districts, each with its own very particular mood and style, and I managed to walk the length and breadth of six of them and at least pass through the other two. I only used the Metro maybe two or three times, and one of those was to get to the hotel from the airport! Of the eight my particular favourites were Chueca, which although known as Madrid's gay village is also home to some of its coolest bars and one which I have fallen in love with for life: the splendidly named Bar Cock on Calle de la Reina, and Malasaña, the gritty, arty maze of streets north of the arse end of Gran Via, where spit-and-sawdust cervecerias rub shoulders with trendier shops and grungy speak-easys.
The absolute highlight of the stay - and we're getting to the punchline now, folks - was my discovery of the caña tradition. Basically, from about 8pm onwards, if you go to any bar or cafe and order a caña you will receive not only a glass of draught beer (anything from a small wine glass size to a full half pint) and tapas of some sort. There's absolutely no telling just from looking what sort of deal you're going to get; some places offer no more than a bit of bread and salami, while others offer dishes piled high with patatas bravas, chorizo or tuna salad. The one certainty however is that the most you're likely to pay for this privilege is €2, but most often no more than about €1.20-€1.50. Working your way from bar to bar having maybe one or two cañas in each is a very economical way to a) eat yourself silly and b) get slightly pissed, all for very little money indeed.
All in all, I really fell for Madrid and its non-stop, high speed, 24 hour way of life. There really is something very invigorating at being in the thick of it and I'm already excited at the thought of going back. Next stop: Cordoba, where my Andalucia leg of the trip begins!
No comments:
Post a Comment