I fell in love with Madrid the first year I spent in Spain. I was living in Palencia, a small city in Castilla-Leon whose residents take pride in their pure castellano (Castilian Spanish), the early Gothic Cathedral known as la bella desconocida, and the province’s many examples of arquitectura románica (Romanesque, I believe, in English… I studied History of Art in Spanish and never bothered to learn the terminology in English).
I loved living in Palencia, and had a wonderful year as an exchange student, but I was always eager to visit Madrid. I loved the broad avenue known as La Castellana, I loved the museums and nightlife, and I loved visiting my Spanish host brother and his friends at their student housing.
Now, the bus terminal is underground, and it is much nicer, though still chaotic during rush hour.
I went to Madrid several times during the year I lived in Palencia.
I went with my class (I completed COU–“Curso de Orientación Universitaria”, or the last year before college during which students prepared for their college entrance exams, now known as the second bachillerato year–in Palencia) to see an exhibit at
the Reina Sofia museum and the musical Carmen Carmen! (Antonio Gala) at the teatro Calderón. I met my host brother and friends at the Reina Sofia, and we left (with permission) for dinner; they promised to deliver me to the theatre before the show started, but we got stuck in a broken metro train, so I was late…
I went with my host family. These visits usually included a long visit to El Corte Inglés, a brief visit at my host brother’s dorm, and, if lucky, a meal at a nearby Italian restaurant. My host parents hated dining out… vestiges of privations during the era of Franco, and a natural reluctance to spend money unnecessarily.
I went with my “host aunt and uncle,” with whom I got along marvelously–we loved to discuss politics. They are Communists, or at least they were (doubt they’ve changed much), and very anti-USA, but also very well-informed and cultured. My host parents were and are very conservative and religious. Very good people, but the time I spent with los tios was a needed breath of fresh air. At the time I had not yet decided to abandon the Catholic church, but I was not religious and had never been, and spent more time questioning than accepting any religious doctrine. I felt right at home with self-proclaimed communist atheists 😉 Going to Madrid with them meant museums and good food and visits with other doctors (I remember one complaining about the publish or perish aspect of academia in the States. Funny thing is, now that I am in academia, I do really want to publish, but not because I am worried about perishing, but because I want my stuff OUT THERE!!)
Towards the end of my first year in Spain, My friend Raquel and I went to Madrid together, alone on the train. Raquel needed to enroll at la Complutense, or talk to them, and I was always looking for an excuse to go to Madrid. Considering we had only recently at the time gotten lost (walking several kilometers down the highway towards Burgos!) in Palencia when we signed her up for the Selectividad (college entrance exam), it was rather brave of us to venture alone to the capital… but we made it, and only went the wrong way on the metro once. We even managed to take the metro to visit the boys (my host brother and friends) before catching the train home.
When I left Palencia at the end of that first year–by train to Madrid–there were many tears on the railway platform. My host family and many friends, including Raquel, all came to say good-bye. We needn’t have been so sad though, since two years later I returned for my junior year abroad. I intended to attend the Universidad Autonoma de Barcelona, and had even studied Catalan the previous semester in preparation (this made every person I met in Barcelona my best friend). I had enrolled at the university and stayed two weeks with friends in a chalet near Barcelona… but I didn’t like the city. Or rather, I was unimpressed by the university and the different flats I saw when shopping for an apartment to share. So I decided I’d go to Madrid, enroll at the Complutense, and stay with Raquel 🙂
Since that second year in Madrid, I’ve stayed with Raquel in many flats (all near the center of the city), and of course I’ve lived in my own flats in different places. Perhaps my favorite section to live in has been near Dehesa de la Villa, a park in the northwest section of the city (cool blog about it: http://amigosdehesa.blogspot.com/). I’ve lived in two different flats near Dehesa de la Villa, very convenient access to the Hipodromo de la Zarzuela, but not so convenient otherwise, as there was no metro when I first lived there (now there is a stop relatively close). Loved being near the park though.
The metro has expanded nearly beyond recognition since I first rode it in 1988. It cost 40 pesetas for a single ride back then… now it’s up to two euros. At the same time, many many businesses have closed, such as the Cafe Comercial above.
I had a bad scare when I first walked down the calle Cardenal Cisneros, in the Bilbao area of the city. The corner where the Cerveceria Oldenburg had existed for as long as I could remember was occupied by a place that sold Tacos (I think). Luckily, they had just moved down the street to a much bigger (if less cozy) locale. They still had Te Deum roja on tap, one of my favorite beers, not least becasuse I love the name and once sat and listened to Berlioz’s Te Deum while drinking several glasses. I like Bruckner’s Te Deum nearly as much, but it was a Berlioz moment.
A friend with whom I used to teach at St. Michael’s School introduced me to an excellent restaurant just off the south side of the viaducto on the Calle Bailen: La Taberna Rayuela. Excellent food and a beautiful location, and who can resist a restaurant named after a famous book by Cortázar, which I’ve just learned is called “Hopscotch” in English. It’s excellent in the original Spanish, but I cannot vouch for any English translation.
