The Final Destination

On some level, we were hesitant to arrive in Madrid.  It was our final destination - our big trip, almost over.  At the same time, we couldn't bear to haul all our stuff around much longer, and once we were in Madrid, it was just one more schlep to the airport.  Just to give you an idea of what we're talking about, Matt carried an enormous backpack on his back, and a stuffed daypack on his front.  In addition, he almost always carried a bag in his hand as well as our poster tube.  Amber pulled the roller bag, had two shoulder bags, and a day pack on her front.  We are not destined to be sherpas.  

Visiting a sweetery = much happiness

Madrid, despite its reputation as big, busy and metropolitan, was delightful.  We found it easy to navigate, less touristy than we expected, and culturally fascinating.  It didn’t hurt that our hostal was amazing – inexpensive, clean but full of character, and run by an incredibly friendly Argentinian.  Our room was super-quiet, despite being right in the heart of the city.  And we had wireless internet AND a television to watch some of the Olympics.  Definitely a place we’d go back to (but why do we keep ending up on the blocks with the prostitutes?).  

Another local Spanish post office

The local train station, Atocha, houses a huge 4,000 square meter covered tropical garden (complete with turtles). This atrium occupies the covered platform area of the old terminal, converted when Atocha was expanded in 1992, and also contains shops, cafes and a nightclub.

Perhaps you'll share our surprise, this is the train station!

We hit Museo del Prado, Plaza Mayor, many lesser known but equally beautiful plazas, a bullfight, Puerta del Sol, a flamenco concert and of course El Rastro.  There is simply too much to do in Madrid, no matter how much time you have there.    

Music at El Rastro, this guy could play anything!

El Rastro, Europe's largest flea market, is the cultural flesh and blood of Madrid.  It is enormous, packed, and brimming with Madrilenos hungry for a bargain.  We got a hot dog, meandered our way through, and found an unexpected gem of a deli.  We were on our way home, when we stumbled upon 40-50 Spaniards standing on the sidewalk all gobbling up open faced sandwiches.  

Spanish, through and through

Then we saw the line, and knew we had to purchase our own devourables.  Inside, there were no tables, benches or even a bar.  Just a room jam packed with folks waiting for deliciousness.  We got one with elvers and another with tortilla (delicious Spanish egg omelette), both drizzled with olive oil on freshly baked bread ....and joined the standing fans outside on the sidwalk.  

A classic plaza, this happens to be Plaza Mayor

And finally, we’ve experienced sales before, but nothing quite like the “rebajas” that strike most Spanish cities in late summer.  After stocking up on crafts in Morocco, and depleting our finances over four months of traveling, it was hard to pass up the deals displayed in nearly every shop window.  But we managed.

Oh, if you ever want to hear a truly shocking and unpostable story, ask us later about the man in tight linen pants.  We've warned you.