Now that the weekend is over, and my beloved has gone back to work, I find myself with at least eight hours a day in which to explore Madrid solo. I think we all know I'm good at solo travel; so this is hardly a problem. Where to start, is more the problem. I have my usual Lonely Planet guide to the city, and Trip Advisor has lots of suggestions for me as well. I decide that walking is my best bet, and head off in a vague direction of North-West. I have tried explaining to my boyfriend that I have an excellent sense of direction; we'll see, shall we? Soon I am deep in the Retiro barrio (neighbourhood), and feeling reasonably confident that I am heading in the right direction, I continue pounding pavement, until eventually - yes! I see Parque del Retiro - the beautifully landscaped inner-city park he took me to the day prior, to look at the rose gardens. Such a romantic. The map of our neighbourhood is coming together in my head nicely, and feeling confident, I spend some time wandering through Retiro park. It is just so beautiful, with the autumn colours beginning to creep into the otherwise lush and dense foliage luxuriously lining hundreds of trees. The sand pathways are a subtle contrast to the brilliance of the blue sky, the soothing greenery and the black lacework of the metal fences and lamp posts that line the park's paths. Birds live here, happily and plentifully, and my heart soars to hear their singing; it is at this moment that I know I will spend a lot of time in Parque del Retiro.
I spend probably a good forty-five minutes wandering through the park, using my bird-brain to guide me to the centre of Madrid. I saw some beautiful statues atop buildings yesterday that I really want to capture decent photographs of, and the afternoon sun was doing them no justice yesterday, so armed with my beloved Nikon, I keep winding my way West until eventually I see Puerta de Alcalá; one of the gates of Madrid. It is a landmark; a shining beacon telling me I am indeed going the right way and my sense of direction is working fine. Filled with a deep happiness and satisfaction at making it this far (I mean come on, let's face it - I don't read Spanish very well, and I don't even know what the places I want to get to are called at this point so it's not like I can stop and ask for directions), I continue past the beautiful monument that used to be part of an extensive city wall system, built in 1778. I'm deep in downtown territory now, and am rewarded with more and more historical buildings kept in mint condition, until I reach the piece de résistance - the Plaza de Cibeles. I cannot begin to tell you how beautiful it is; the fountain in the centre of the roundabout, the white buildings surrounding it on three sides, the quaint and terribly private park on the other. I stop for a few moments to take it in, to absorb its beauty, and finally to take a few photos that I know will do it no justice, but hopefully will at least be refreshers for my memory in months to come.
I walk another half an hour, and am suddenly acutely aware that I haven't eaten anything at all today, and it is easily 1pm. I am filled with a sense of purpose; I must find the Mercardo san Miguel, and I simply must eat as much tapas there as I can possibly manage. West! West! Keep moving west! I arrive at the Mercardo and am overwhelmed by choice. I know I have to try new things, but the gulas and croquetas are on my "must eat again" list.. and so I do. I eat and eat until I can no longer; stuffed olives, cured meats, cheese, beautifully presented tapas for as little as 1 Euro. Finally, I have had my fill, met two French tourists and decide it would be a good idea to walk off the near-overindulgence of lunch. I spend my afternoon walking downtown Madrid and smiling; smiling at the other tourists, smiling at the locals going about their business, smiling at the beautiful blue sky and the warmth of summer's last days on my skin. I see all the litter, the homeless, the filth and grunge and grit in the historical streets, but I see the beauty, the hope of newly constructed buildings, the smiles on the many latino faces that I go past. Madrid is beginning to feel quite comfortable to me, and I've only been here a handful of days. A sign of good things to come.
M x
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