A Weekend In Madrid

My weekend wasn't too eventful. While it was nice to not have to get on a bus or plane for hours, I found myself wishing I had something planned. I slept in Saturday morning and spent the first half of the day working out and researching for my Rome trip. Lunch with the family was awkward. The Grandma was there and she speaks zero English, so I spent the entire meal listening to the family laugh and converse in Spanish. It was also strange because I felt like I was intruding on their family time. I left the table as soon as I could, went and grabbed my purse, and left to go into Madrid.

Friday night another tutor with my program had informed us on the Facebook page that she and a friend were planning on going to the Prado Museum Saturday night and wanted to know if anyone else would like to join. I told her I'd love to meet her, we arranged a place to meet, and I thought it was all figured out. But when I got to the Prado on Saturday evening there was an enormous line that nearly wrapped it's way around the building. I guess Saturdays from 6pm-8pm are free entrance hours, and it seemed that everyone in town had shown up. I waited for the girls I was meeting, but after twenty minutes I decided I'd better just get in line. As the line moved towards our meeting spot I kept an eye out for them, but didn't see anyone. So I went ahead and went in alone. I found out later that they'd seen the huge line and gotten in it right away, hoping to see me as they went inside. Well, oh well.

The Prado made me realize that not everything that's listed as a "must see" in all the guidebooks is actually something you should see. I know that Goya, El Greco, Velasquez, Picasso, and Dali are all brilliant artists with amazing pieces of artwork. The paintings that lines the walls of the numerous galleries were beautiful. But as I walked through and watched people standing and discussing the pieces I thought, "Why?". They're just paintings. Maybe I don't appreciate the historical significance or impact these pieces had. Maybe I'm just not an art person. But ten minutes in the museum and I was done, because frankly, it was boring. History museums or interactive exhibitions are one thing, but walking through a building looking at pictures hung on the wall is just something I don't think I'll ever enjoy.

So after a (very) short visit to El Museo del Prado I began walking back to the metro. It was already dark, but there were people everywhere. I decided to take the "long way" and walked towards Puerta del Sol. It's weird being in a place where Thanksgiving doesn't exist. Already, in early November, there was a feeling of Christmas in the air. People walk through the city bundled up head to toe (It's chilly, but not as freezing as all the scarves and hats and gloves that I've seen) and businesses have already started decorating for the holidays. The skeleton of a large, light up Christmas tree stands in Puerta del Sol, and lights are already popping up on buildings around town. I bought a hot chocolate from a cafe that was playing Christmas music to enjoy on my way back to the bus station. The festiveness and the hot drink made me feel a little better about what was otherwise a disappointing night.

Sunday I woke up early to go back into the city. I wanted to try and get to the market before it got too busy. I'd been to El Rastro before and it was kind of insane. Today was no different. Hundreds of booths and vendors selling everything from clothing and souvenirs to batteries and antiques. Though it was extremely crowded and uncomfortable, I did end up finding some great deals. I bought a couple of souvenir/gifts to bring back to people back home :)

I spent a good two hours there. When I was pretty positive I'd seen the entire thing I set off again towards Puerta del Sol. I was glad to finally escape the massive crowds. Little did I know I'd be seeing more of them soon enough. As I approached the central part of the city I saw people lined up along the streets. Barriers had been put up, and police were everywhere. And then the parade began. Before I knew it I was once again being pushed and pulled in whatever direction the crowd was going. The metro stop was on the other side of the street, but there was apparently no way to get there because of the parade. People were holding banners and wearing costumes, and every few minutes they'd stop walking and someone with a microphone would speak. And the crowd would shout, "Vive! Vive! Vive!" and then the procession would continue. The line of people in the parade was never ending. I found out later that the parade was a part of Madrid's "Almudena Day". It's celebrated only in Madrid in honor of the city's patron saint, and judging by the crowds, it's a really big deal. I eventually decided there was no way to get to the metro station in Sol, and to walk all the way back to the one near the market. That was the next closest stop. It took me so long to get back to the house that I missed lunch.

The whole weekend just felt tired. I've had a sore throat and headache since Friday, and just haven't felt very "up". Maybe it's the weather, which has gone from sunshine and summer to grey and cold in just a week. I don't know what I would've done if the Seahawks hadn't won. Luckily, they did win, and they played better than they've played in quite awhile. So that made me happy. Five days here and then I'm off to Rome. Madrid is fine, but I'm really glad that the rest of my weekends are booked for somewhere else.