I am in Madrid. And it is overwhelming. Every street a tide of people heading your way, a game of human 'dodgems' required to move forward, every plaza a writhing mass. I have gone from deserted villages to packed city; maybe those village inhabitants have simply all come here? And it really is that busy: it seems I have arrived on a long-weekend holiday while today is also a festival day in the city.
There is little to say about the ride here. I had a late start, made possible by my short day but also a consequence of my waiting for a break in the weather; we had heavy rain this morning following on from thunderstorms last night and there was the promise of both again throughout the day. It was mid morning before I was again paralleling the motorway, following the same smooth cycle path as yesterday with Madrid a blur of grey and towers in the far distance, like a dark outline of some Gotham-like city from a dystopian film. As I got closer the last remnants of trees and grassland were pushed aside by the road and rail and industry and service buildings that feed the city's needs. All the while the sky was undecided on rain or not, but by the time the next downpour started and lightning flashed overhead I was far enough into Madrid itself to find a cafe to cower in.
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| Towards Madrid… |
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| Looking back to Guadarramas |
When the rain eased a little I sought out the restaurant owned by the parents of the Spanish student I exchanged with in 1978, sadly closed down but, it seems, only recently. As the sun appeared I visited the Retiro Park, more contrived in parts than Hyde Park with formal lines of trees and follies but also plenty of wooded areas and grass to provide a touch of green in a big city. And before rushing back to shelter in my room from more heavy rain and thunder I visited a very crowded Plaza Mayor. Nearby was Calle Ethergaray, mentioned by Lee as a place where he played his violin one evening. It is a narrow, stone tiled street amongst the busyness of the small Literary Quarter. Full of hostels and small shuttered businesses, it was hard to tell whether it would be more alive at night or how it would compare to the street described by Lee as 'half Goya, half Edwardian plush, with cafe brothels…'.
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| Retiro Park |
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| Retiro Park |
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| Calle Ethergaray |
I met my friend Beatriz later in the evening. In Spain seeing family, she had agreed to come to Madrid while I was here. My walk to the station was via the cathedral and Royal Palace where I found barriers and officials blocking roads and decided to stay to watch what a policeman told me would be a seven o’clock military parade in celebration of Madrid's Festive Day. By seven-thirty and with still no sign of a parade I had to leave. Afterwards, with Beatriz met and bags dropped, the day ended with dinner in a small outdoor fish restaurant in the narrow and busy streets near our accommodation.
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| Royal Palace |
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| Cathedral |
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| Put a cross where you think the military parade should be… |
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