32...The Magic year

April 7, 2012...Madrid.

I'm getting a little behind but definitely wanted to document the trip to Spain over the outrageously long Easter Weekend.  I flew out of Heathrow with my friend AB from Tufts and had the most uneventful plane ride of my young trip (it would be the last of its kind).  AB's been living in London for several years and is inclined to travel while a willing partner is in the hemisphere.  She was also fantastic in arranging flights and hotels...thank you kindly.  This service does not go unappreciated.

Early highlight of the trip was telling the cabbie where we were going.

AB:  Las Meninas...in el Centro (the neighborhood in Madrid closest to the palace)
Cabbie:  iAH!  El punto centro!  That means...the F--KING CENTER!
Me;  Nice.



He was very excited.  It was contagious.  This would be a good weekend

Hotel lobby...kept expecting Matt Damon to come flying
down the middle shooting people
on each landng and using a dead operative as a parachute

The cab is about 30 minutes to the city from the airport.  Riding in, Madrid seems really vast to us, but it would shrink real fast.  The city is broken up into clearly defined neighborhoods (El Centro, La Latina, El Opera) that are named rather intuitively so its not hard to figure out where you are (oh, there's the  Opera).

Its a lot of narrow cobble stone streets, but huge squares and plazas.  And its bumping at 10PM on a Friday.  Tons of people in the street.  We ditched our bags and head out for a bit.  Two blocks from the hotel, the Plaza Mayor opens up in front of us:

It is enormous and well lit and full of people (can't really tell here though..).  There are a lot of street performers and people selling annoying whistles and helicopter toys that I would have wanted if I was drunk and 12, instead of drunk and 32.

We walked through the plaza to La Latina which is jam packed with tiny cafes that offer tapas and drinks (it was very much like Granada, my only other Spanish experience).  We found a place to have a drink and some jamon.  The Spanish love ham.  Its everywhere, literally.  And its more like what we'd call prosciutto than ham.  Like this:

We called it a night after some pig leg and a few cocktails.  Saturday was going to be busy


I'd also like to remind anyone back home that I appear to have a full 2 bed to myself and I'd be happy to take visitors and do a little weekend traveling