A Special Spanish Tax

We are home and officially recovered from jet-lag. Still basking in the layers of extraordinary art, incomprehensible history and phenomenal food and wine of Spain. We brought home all sorts of memories and left a large chunk of my favourite black traveling skirt - on the lower right of the photo. 

In Madrid (population 3.2 million), the people are extremely well dressed: mostly high leather boots, tight pants or leggings for any woman under forty, full fur coats and stylish hats for the matronly set.  Strolling hand-in-hand it does not appear that they  "shop until they drop. " There is phenomenon not given in any guidebook: after Christmas it appears that everyone emerges from their homes and apartments and comes in from all the villages within a 2 hour bus/train or Metro ride (you would NEVER think of driving in Madrid) to take advantage of the phenomenal after holiday sales. We were overwhelmed with the crowds (major understatement) and seduced (accurate statement) by the major stores staying open until 23:00. In addition to great prices, Spain's largest department store, El Corte Ingles, gives additional discounts to folks like us who show their foreign passports. The only unexpected tax was a VERY HUNGRY ESCALTOR that snatched my skirt. Chuck pushed the emergency stop button and within seconds I was surrounded by an armed guard, two mechanics and six giggling sales girls (not a single one with scissors). They methodically disassembled the escalator and politely handed me the well-digested scraps. Thank heavens it was a mid-length stretchy yoga skirt and not a gloved hand or the stiletto heels I'd just purchased. All is well and I'm off to start a new fashion trend...

 

 

Home and unpacking

After 26 hours of flying and a 9 hour time change, we are home at least. Missing narrow streets, musical chatter and tapas. We learned:
1- eat before you are hungry otherwise looking for a restaurant is a desperate act. Desperate people do desperate things.
2- don't expect shops or sites to be open during the holidays in a catholic country
3-you still have to go thoroughly security checks when you make connects (don't buy anything liquid in duty free if you have to go through security)
4- First Class domestic flying is not the same as international
5-if you spend a lot of time in museums expect to unpack the contents of your bag and arrange it like a still life before putting away
6-come home with enough foreign current to fund the next trip back

Mercado San Miguel

Five hours at The Prado (3,000 paintings) required another meander to find refreshment at Mercado San Miguel a 19th Century confection of glass, lacy steel, gourmet tapas and that effervescent Spanish friendliness. Paper cones of sardines and calamari,grilled whole squid, mozzarella buratta, fluffy croquettes all finished off with espresso and chocolate "salami" cookies. Returned to The Prado to stay until closing. Chuck has purchased 40 pounds of books. Not great shoulder therapy, but so good for the soul.

Looking for Picasso T-shirts

Someday, I may look like this lady, but for now, I will keep looking for a striped Picasso T-shirt.  

One more day to find it in Madrid...They exist in Barcelona, but the challenge is to find it here.

 

A Day without Poetry...

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 In Madrid, we were astonished to see on the METRO that there are no advertisements for products, multinational companies or the newest fashions, perfumes, and  electronic "gotta haves" - only notices about art exhibits, cultural events or invitations to observe objects of beauty. We saw poster from a campaign " Never a day without Poetry" so we took their advice and made a somewhat poetic adventure out of getting lost (again) on our way to seeing the Museo Sorolla and the National Modern Art Museum. Chuck was catatonic in the morning and in the afternoon, the surrealists made his skin crawl. Too much juxaposition in one day, but he said that it was definitely worth the 14 hour flight to see the brilliance of Sorolla up close, personal and in Sorolla's home/studio. Tomorrow, our last day in Spain, we tackle the 3,000 paintings of THE PRADO - with a tapas break at the astonishing mercado San Miguel that we accidentally discovered today - after a horrid lunch at an Octoptus Restaurant. Getting lost, while difficult on the nerves, has it's benefits.

Inspiration in many forms

We found one of these in our room last night (after a mild shreek, it went to meet it's maker). I never thought to make them into a necklace, but perhaps YOU might think about it. Probably won't return to Nerja on the Costa del Sol ever again (waaaay too touristy and suffering from the invasion of winter birds), but now that we're in Madrid, we're off to visit some of Chuck's favourite friends: Sorolla, Zurburan, Goya and the ever-ubiquitous, Picasso. He bought a hat, scarf, I bought some very special shoes and while the folks at the the department store gave us a discount, the store itself extracted a most unusual tax: the escalator grabbed my skirt and ate a significant part of the hem. Releasing me (lest it eat more) required two workmen and three twittering shopgirls  - all watched by baffled customers and a fully armed security guard. Chuck is not sure who was better fed tonight - the escalator or us. I'm not sure that "shredded witch hem" couldn't become a new fashion, but I will tell you, I now know that no one should wear a skirt near an escalator or in an airport - especially if you have no scissors and a plane to catch.

 

Twelve chimes,Twelve grapes, one bottle of CAVA

On New Year's Eve throughout Spain, as the bell chimes 12 times, you are supposed to eat 12 grapes - symbolizing each month of the year, each disciple or perhaps a dozen eggs...we carefully counted out ours, avoiding the seeds and popped them down. And the fireworks over El Balcon de Europa went on and on. Give these folks ANY reason to celebrate, eat, drink or rest and you can eliminate about 180 working days a year. Trying it's a challenge to find establishments open (souvenir shops NEVER close but museums, restaurants, grocery stores, banks and even churches do) during the holidays but we've managed to get delightfully lost in many a white-washed hill town (Casas Blancas), found extraordinary dining and watched light and clouds change dramatically.

Feliz Año!

Cordoba

While Paris had a population of 30,000, Cordoba (accent on the first syllable) was a thriving city of over 100,000 Muslims, Jews and Christians living harmoniously. They had over 70 libraries and on the streets you could hear Greek, Latin, Arabic and Hebrew. In its time, Cordoba was comparable to Baghdad and Constantinople. I loved learning that "Al-gebra" was their system of mathematics. The ghosts of such scholarship and "patrimonia de humanity's" are still wandering the narrow streets. Probably not getting quite as lost as we did.