Mom and Aaron generously offered to buy me a meal, so I went all out. I had the salad I bought at the grocery for breakfast and a croque monsieur at the museum for lunch. So dinner was a treat.
I had Olivier salad
And ravioli caprese
I tried to have dessert but for some reason I wanted chocolate and they didn’t have anything. It’s okay. I’m still eating my Napolitanas.
Now I’m going to roll back to my hotel. Fortunately it’s not far.
So when I went to catch the bus this morning I left in what I thought was plenty of time. 40 minutes before my departure with 30 minutes to buy a ticket and find my platform. I did not count on each person’s transaction taking five minutes, nor the clerk misunderstanding where I wanted to go and selling me the wrong ticket. Long story short, I missed the bus.
I got a room in Tineo. I will bus there, stay the night, then bus to Pola de Allande tomorrow. So I have time to kill in Madrid., because the bus doesn’t leave till 2:15.
I put my stuff in a locker, carefully noted the location of the bus station, although if I’m desperate I can always take a taxi, and headed out. It is a cold, rainy day here in Madrid. Being lost today is not fun.
Verizon told me I had used all my high speed access for this session, which is up in one minute. That means no map updates. So I found a nice little cafe and had tortilla and cafe con leche. When I went to be use their bathroom, I couldn’t get the door open. So I told the waitress, who came over and slid it open. I put my hand to my head in the fairly universal “How stupid am I?” gesture and she smothers her giggles as she walks off.
In a bit I will go for one more session ( I’ve only had two so far, although I think there should have been more.) I will use my map to find the Plaza of Charles the V. I think the temple of gastronomy is there, although I’m not terribly hungry right now. I wish I had a warm bed, hot tea, and a good book. It’s that kind of day.
Yesterday at long last I toured the Prado. I bought a combination ticket for it and the Royal Palace, both tours in English. The confirmation email was for only the Royal Palace in Spanish.
I told them the problem at the Palace but they didn’t solve it. I guess because it wasn’t their problem. When I got to the Prado we of course were a ticket short. So I told the problem again.
The guide said, “No problem; children are free,” and he took the youngest child and her mother off.
Children weren’t free.
The mother got very angry and said, trying to be respectful to me, that my problem wasn’t her problem. She was so aggressive to the guide he got angry in turn and said he was just a guide, not a secretary, that he had nothing to do with tickets.
I tried to defuse the situation, while still getting it solved, by asking who did I need to talk to. About that time another guide who had the company card came by and they bought me a ticket.
I was sorry to make everyone wait and the guide angry. If he hadn’t bought me a ticket my plan was to go back to the hotel and have the concierge help me pitch a wall-eyed fit.
I do NOT recommend Feel the City tours, and not just because of that. I got to the Palace at 9:25, twenty minutes early so I could solve my problem. Took a taxi and everything. We didn’t go in to the palace until almost an hour later. There were audio problems and personnel problems and more. I could have walked and saved nine Euros.
However, on the walk between the palace and the Prado our guide pointed out the San Miguel Market, except she called it “the Temple of Gastronomy.”
OMG, ya’ll. It deserves its own entry.
So I’ll go back to the palace and the Prado.
The palace is the biggest in Europe, over 3,200 rooms. It is bigger than Buckingham Palace or Versailles. We toured 25 rooms, less than 1%.
It was like some of the other palaces I’ve seen. Gold, frescoes on the ceiling, mirrors, marble and parquet floors. This was the first time I saw silk on the walls, though. I longed to touch it, but there were museum personnel in every room. My favorite room was the bathroom (surprise, surprise) with green walls and white porcelain figures all over. Google it, y’all.
The Prado was like other world-class museums. Velasquez, Goya, El Greco, a lot of others I’d never heard of, and Rubens. A lot of Rubens. Wisely, most of the paintings or artists had something to do with Spain, and apparently Rubens was commissioned to decorate some building and most of his paintings were from there.
Our guide started with a medieval painting that contained a “cacatero.” The painting showed Charon traveling with a soul, which was looking toward an angel on the Heaven side and so didn’t see the small figure taking a dump outside the entrance to Hell, which was disguised with lush vegetation.
Cacateros are always associated with Hell in these paintings, because apparently Adam and Eve would have never taken a shit if not for original sin.
Medieval people believed some weird stuff.
We saw most of the really important paintings (Las Molinas, La Perla, etc.) Some of my favorites were “the Black Paintings,” done on the walls of Goya’s house and removed after his death. The guide’s favorite black painting and mine were not the same because of a bad thing I saw the day before. I won’t detail what it was in case someone who knows Antonio reads this and shares. He forbid me to tell him the bad thing.
After an hour and a half we were on our own.
I ate my Croque Monsieur, which was “heated” for me but still stone cold, then walked around.
The only thing I saw on my own that was truly remarkable was “the treasure of the Dauphin.” This was a collection of objects (vases, cups, ewers, etc.) carved from various semi-precious stones ( rock crystal, lapis lazuli, jade, sardonyx (the first time I’ve really seen my birthstone.)) My favorite was the ewer (pitcher) with Narcissus as the handle. He is looking into the pitcher, not away, so when it is full of water he sees his reflection. I learned that from a video I saw; the pitcher was of course dry and in a case.
By 5:45 I was tired and my knee was stiff and really hurting. So I went to the hotel and took Aleve. Then I went out to have my “last dinner in Madrid.”
This is where I went instead of the Prado, which I will be going to tomorrow along with the Royal Palace. The Reina Sofia houses the more modern artists: Picasso, Dali, Diego Rivera, etc. And it has “Guernica.”
How to describe this painting? We’ve all seen it.
But unless you’ve stood in front of “Guernica,” you haven’t seen it.
It is huge, for one thing. Almost twelve feet high and over 25 feet long. The figures are larger than life, and their impact is equally large.
The whole painting is screaming.. The screams enter your eyes and tighten your chest before roiling around in your stomach. They echo in your head, all the more powerful in their silence. Each figure screams in a different way: the horse in terrified innocence, the mother in unimaginable grief, the half-naked woman and the woman trapped by fire in different forms of despair. Even the man at the bottom is locked in a scream of death. And over it all the bull, which I assume is Spain, looks on in befuddlement while the lady with the lamp, which I assume is America, is horrified.
They say Velasquez was one of the first artists not to romanticize war, to paint it more like it truly is. “Guernica” is war. It is the horror of war and the toll it takes upon the innocent. And it was all the more affecting because 85 years later the same thing is going on. Right now. And not just in the Ukraine. And the same damn thing has been going on for millenia, and will go on for millenia more, probably. Humans just can’t seem to stop killing each other.
I will write more about some of the other exhibits, most importantly “Kuba,” but right now I need to get to bed because I have to be at the Royal Palace at 9:45 in the morning, and I have to get dressed, and breakfast, and a taxi, and…They somehow have my language as Spanish even though I clearly marked “English,” so I need to get there all the earlier. But I learned if I don’t post some of you worry, so I’m posting. Good night.
Apparently the Prado is limiting the number of visitors, so I couldn’t get in. There is an English-speaking tour at 11 and even though it will be expensive I’m going to do it. Maybe I’ll do the Royal Palace tour also.
I walked around and admired the palaces, bought Coke Zero and conditioner, and just soaked up Spanish. That is, of course, goal #1 in coming to Spain. Goal # 2 is the book, from the hospitalera’s viewpoint this time. I’m not sure if it will be combined with the first book or if it will be a sequel. ( A sequel to a book never published, hah!)
Aaron, I still haven’t found that plain. I think I’m going to stop looking for now.
I promised you guys a picture so here it is. It says only one person at a time because of COVID. I don’t know who they think they’re kidding. Me and my backpack barely fit.
It was so late after my shower that I decided to get something to eat then go to the Prado when it was free. I went to a place called Tinto y Tapas, where the gentleman quickly figured out he needed English although I was doing my best.
I ordered an empanada caprese and a solomillo with sirloin.
I like the empanada the best, although both are a little sweet. The onions in the solomillo are really sweet. They remind me of the sweet onion sauce at Subway. Antonio would probably really like this sandwich, since he loves both sweet onion sauce and steak. But maybe not together.They are both deliciously greasy and the hotel is going to hate what I’m doing to their towel.
Now on to the Prado!
My room is tiny, but it’s warm. The extra blanket didn’t make an appearance that I can see, but I may not need it. Taxi cost half of what I thought it would, which is great! Now for a shower and some clean clothes , then on to the Prado.
Later I will show you guys the world’s tiniest elevator.
TRS is using COVID funds to issue a health insurance payment. I know I should use the money for something else, but I am spending it on a private room near the Prado museum. I can face exploring in the cold better if I have somewhere warm to go afterwards. Forgetting my silk sleeping bag liner was an expensive mistake!
But I am figuring this. I will be within walking distance of multiple museums. I’m saving on transportatlon, plus I will have the support of an English-speaking concierge who can help with taking the bus to Pola de Allande. But more importantly, I will be warm!
I’m wearing both sets of long Johns and I stole two extra blankets. I’m still cold. The blankets are so small I can’t keep them on. That I’m by the window doesn’t help.
So now I have a choice. Go to a home store and buy a big warm blanket, find a camping store and get a thermal blanket, or change hotels. I’m leaning toward the last one, but a private room is not cheap. I might be ready to spend the money though. I’m tired of being cold! I am a Texan. We don’t do cold.
Travels and Adventures with Jane 