Madrid 2

The Royal Palace of Madrid

Madrid

Two museums and a walking tour. Boy, are my feets tired.

Breakfast was a little disappointing – not enough overlap between a Spanish breakfast and a breakfast we like. [this hotel had to compare breakfasts with the huge Viking one and the knockout one in Barcelona.] Extensive buffet, but about a third of it was what we would call deli meat and cheese – a make-your-own-charcuterie board. Eggs were runny, which is how some people like them, but not us, and European bacon seems always to be under cooked. No sausage. The porridge was really good, but it already had milk in it and Abbey couldn't have it. They had churros, but they were tasteless and heavy. Anyway, we did OK (grapefruit juice! Got that going for us!), and got on the bus for the tour of Madrid.

We walked out of the hotel, which is on the main drag in Madrid, and all the lanes in one direction were closed, and thousands
– really! Thousands – of people were running down the street. We learned later that it was a 5K or 10K, your choice, and it happens many Sundays in Madrid. Shorts and t-shirts, in the middle of December – our guide said the runs happen in spring and fall, because it's too hot in summer and too cold in winter. I asked about snow and she said, “Not anymore.” It still snows in the mountains to the north, but in the city the average winter temperature is – I've forgotten the Celsius but someone figured out it corresponded to 42 degrees F. As I write this around sunset today, it's 51F in Madrid.

The Convent

It was kind of chilly for the first hour or two this morning, and breezy, but we were prepared and it was no problem. After the bus tour, we walked to Mayor Square, and then up to the Cathedral and the Royal Palace. On the way, we passed the old central market, which is now, as far as I could determine, shops, cafes and - a grocery store. We also went by a convent, with no windows (at least on the side we walked by) which, according to our guide, meant it was a convent of cloistered nuns, who have almost no contact with the outside world - including hardly any windows in the convent they live in.

This is the old part of Madrid, with narrow twisty streets (although not as narrow or twisty as some we've seen) but most of the buildings were rebuilt in the 19th century and most of them – as well as a very high percentage of the buildings in the city – are of the same design, which looks like French colonial. This, according to our guide, is probably because the Spanish became enamored of French design about that time. There were some older buildings – one small square with fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth century buildings.

Fourteenth century

Fifteenth century

Sixteenth century

No Phoenicians or Carthaginians in Madrid's history, but the Romans were there, and then the Visigoths. Neither built a city here. The Moors arrived in the eighth century and built a fortress. Madrid is up on a plateau and has great views of, and a commanding position over, much of the surrounding territory. Northern Spain was always Christian, so the Moors wanted to keep an eye on them. Eventually the Christians moved south, fighting for about seven hundred years until the Moors were expelled from Granada, and therefore all of Spain, in 1492. Somehow I'm not clear on, the Hapsburgs came to power – probably through marriage – and the “Austrian town” was developed – the part of town with the narrow windy streets and small squares. By the way, “Austrian” is pronounced “Ah-OO-stree-en” in Madrid.

When Charles II of Spain died childless in 1700, the War of the Spanish Succession was on. Spain, England, the Netherlands, France and the Hapsburg had legitimate interests in who became King of Spain next, and who he would be allied with. When the dust (and the blood – plenty of blood*) - settled, a Bourbon was on the Spanish throne and lots of promises were made, most of which were kept. The parts of Madrid beyond the Austrian town were built after that – the Bourbon town - and feature wider streets and a more regular grid – sort of the Madrid we see today.

We were walking down a narrow, twisting street and suddenly found ourselves in the Plaza Mayor (the “big,” or “biggest,” plaza) which was built by the Hapsburgs. Buildings border the entire square, and you enter through two-story arches in two diagonally opposite corners. There is an equestrian statue in the middle (Phillip III), and a rather ornate facade, with towers, takes up the central one-third of one of the longer sides, and the rest of the five-story buildings are very uniform. “Regular people live in them today,” said the guide. “Well, regular rich people live there.” Another Christmas market almost filled the plaza. Vendors were just beginning to arrive and set up.

Phillip III in Mayor Plaza

Facade

On the way out, there was a place where you could get a deep-fried calamari-ring sandwich, which is apparently a must for a visit to Madrid, [We skipped that.] and later we passed a place where you could get churros dipped in chocolate. [Abbey - Unfortunately we skipped that too. Our guide waxed poetic about the churros, dipped in thick hot chocolate, and also croquettes.]

We've seen images of a bear and a tree with red fruit, including one inlaid in the sidewalk. This is the coat of arms of Madrid – the bear and the strawberry tree. I know, I know – as everyone who has mentioned this coat of arms has assured us, everyone in Madrid knows that strawberries don't grow on trees. The coat of arms has had, in my opinion, a less interesting history (from the 13th century) than you might imagine, but there it is. The actual tree – the madrone – has berries that look like strawberries, and that are used to make, among other things, the Portuguese medronho, a type of strong brandy. So now you know.

Fried calamari

The bear and the strawberry tree

Then we made our way to the Cathedral, which was built in the 20th century (the very end, actually) and is of the eclectic school of architecture – it struggles to be modern but not outrageous, because it faces, across a wide paved plaza, the Royal Palace (top of page). It also tries to match the Royal Palace architecturally. I don't think it does any of those three things well.

The Cathedral

The King (Spain still has a king, kind of like England has a king) doesn't live there; it's used for events. It was built in the eighteenth century, has over 3,000 rooms, and is very pleasant on the eye – especially in the morning sun and, as Abbey noted, against the brilliant blue sky. It's on the site of that Moorish fortress, and on top of the Alcazar, the Christian fortress and palace that succeeded it but burned down in 1734.

Remember the War of the Spanish Succession? King Phillip V became the first Bourbon king of Spain, at 17, and he really didn't like the Alcazar, so he lived at the Royal Palace of La Granja of San Ildefonso, a really nice place north of town. He had grown up in Versailles, and was, we assume, thrilled to hear the Alcazar had burned down. Now he could build his own palace, on the same spot, and make it look as much like Versailles as possible. And that's what we saw today. Which puts us one up on Philip, who did not live to see the completion of the palace, even though he was the longest-reigning king in Spanish history. That's how long it takes to build palaces in Spain, I guess.

Anyway. Beautiful building. [At least the outside- the tour didn't include the inside.] We trooped downstairs to get the bus – there's an entire underground bus garage for tourist groups to visit the cathedral and the palace. On to the Prado.

Wikipedia says that the Prado is “one of the world's most outstanding museums.” We couldn't tell you, because we had an

hour there, which is kind of like having three hours to see all of Vienna, which happened to us in 1980. The good news is that our guide for the morning was able to design a one-hour tour which hit the highlights and was interesting and informative. I'm not going to try to replicate that tour, or the museum itself, but here's what we saw, in kind of the order we saw it: Tintoretto, Titian, Reubens (a room full of Rubens!), El Greco, Goya (a room full of Goyas!) and Velazquez, including 'Las Meninas,' which was a thrilling experience. I'd be glad to go into full nerdy detail about why Las Meninas is so interesting, anytime 1) you have nothing better to do and 2) you have a copy of 'Las Meninas'. Or you could just look it up.

All too soon it was time to go. We could have stayed at the Prado and walked the three kilometers back to the hotel, shopping at the artisan's Christmas market on the way. We could also hike over to the Museum of Modern Art and seen Picasso's 'Guernica.' I was in the Museum of Modern Art in NYC on a High School field trip, came around a corner and there was 'Guernica' (on loan), and I immediately understood how art can pack an emotional wallop. That was an unforgettable experience, and I'd like to have it again some day.

But instead of all this, we took the bus back to the hotel, and then walked to the Lazaro Galdiano Museum, which, according to Google AI:

...showcases the vast private collection of José Lázaro Galdiano, a Spanish editor and financier, housed in his former mansion at Serrano 122, featuring over 12,000 works from antiquity to the 20th century, with highlights including Spanish masters like Goya and El Greco, Bosch, Velázquez, Murillo, Zurbarán, plus Renaissance enamels, silverware, jewels, textiles, and weapons, all arranged to reflect his eclectic taste... An encyclopedic collection spanning from the 4th Century BC to the early 20th Century, covering paintings, sculptures, decorative arts, and more... Strong focus on Spanish painting (Goya, El Greco, Velázquez, Murillo, Zurbarán), significant European works (Bosch, Cranach, Reynolds, Constable, Tiepolo), and unique items like Charles V's pocket watch and Limoges enamels.

Charles V's pocket watch! How can you resist that? And the summary doesn't include Gilbert Stuart (who painted the iconic Washington portrait – you've seen it – it's on the dollar bill) and a small, luminous painting of Jesus once attributed to Leonardo da Vinci but recently believed to be a product of his workshop.

Abbey was just as enthused about seeing the Italianate mansion it was all housed in. Galdiano, according to Google, became wealthy “through a combination of astute business ventures as a financier, publisher, and lawyer, alongside his unparalleled success as an art dealer and collector” He built the house when he got married (1903), and it has an elaborate fresco on the ceiling of every room on the first floor, some of which portrayed figures from Greek mythology, and others Galdiano's favorite artists, musicians, and writers.

Neither of us was disappointed. This is the museum that closed at 3:00, so we had about an hour and forty five minutes there, and we made the most of it. The house was four stories, almost square, and the first and second floors (the way the Europeans count floors) had eight large rooms arranged around a central room, and paintings were arranged in chronological order around the eight rooms. Which is how I really like to experience art. Starting at the 15th century (all religious; no depth or perspective; most faces looked alike; posture was stiff), and moving all the way around to the 19th century, much of which were contemporary art in Galdian's time. On the second floor, the paintings and other items were arranged more eclectically, as was true on the ground floor.

Well, we had a great time. They need couches in each room so you can lie down and look at the ceiling frescoes – they were elaborate, baroque, colorful and fun, but not really great art. The intimate setting gave us a much more personal connection with each piece – much more so than at the Prado.

I was especially struck by the faces from the Renaissance onward – no matter the subject, including religion or mythology or whatever, the people in the paintings were real friends, family members and acquaintances of the artist, serving as models. Real faces, real people with real lives hundreds of years ago, and here they are, playing their part in the twenty-first century, looking out at me.

I had brought my cane, but still had to sit down every few rooms, and Abbey said her feet felt like blocks. But we stayed til the last minute, when we were thrown out at 3:00. Not having eaten since breakfast, we went across the street to a restaurant with a menu outside; [insert pic of menu] we saw stuff we liked and went in. Abbey had two tapas – ham croquettes and Russian salad, and I had a pizza in the style of Mallorca – Mahon cheese, black pig sobrasada sausage, walnuts, honey and thyme. It was much different from any pizza I've ever had, but it was great. The crust was black – activated charcoal in the dough. Really good crust.

Walk back to the hotel after crossing all nine lanes again. The pizza had taken a really long time to show up, so it was later in the afternoon. We collapsed into reading and writing. We both finished the book we were reading. Abbey painted. We packed for the trip home. Eventually it was time to go to sleep.

This will be the last message from the road. I'll work on the online journal, and let everyone know when it's up. It will have a kind of wrap-up as the last post, I hope. See you then.