Naveen Agnihotri    Photos    Spain 1999    Madrid

Madrid Tweet

When I think about Madrid, the first word that comes to mind is "lively". All through the day and all through the night, the city seems to radiate an energy that is very contagious. It is the kind of place where one doesn't feel surprised when stuck in a traffic jam at four in the morning, and the people one sees are not necessarily going off to work....

A town of four million people today, Madrid has seen many eras of rulers, virtually all of whom have left their mark on the city in some way or other. This is abundantly clear as one walks the streets, be it the swank new roads or the medieval cobblestone streets. Modern day Madrid is huge, but fortunately much of interest lies within areas that can be seen on foot. Another thing immediately noticeable about Madrid are its rich blue skies. Reproductions of its luminous skies gave world fame to the painter Velázquez. The beautiful skies of Madrid have since been described as "Velasqueños".

I was going to be inflicting myself on my friends Juan Carlos and Marisa for a week, thanks to a £39 round-tip fare from London, courtesy EasyJet. On the day I arrived, we had a nice relaxed lunch, and because it was raining, decided to not venture out too much. So Juan Carlos took me to his lab at Instituto Cajal. On the way there, we passed through the Berlin Park, which gets its name because the big cement blocks in it are actually from the Berlin wall. And my tour of Madrid had begun.

The next morning, armed with some elementary Spanish that JC had taught me the night before, I took the subway (Metro) and started going places.

Any description of Madrid has to start with Puerta del Sol. Established during the Habsburg Epoch, it was once a 15th century defensive bulwark, and is the very center of town. As if to reiterate its status, it has a marker that says "0 kilometers", and is the place from where distances to Madrid are measured. Puerta del Sol is a bustling intersection, right in the center of which is a large open square. One of it's distinctive features is the "Tio Pepe" sign, visible in the photo on the left. The Oso y el Madroño (bear and strawberry tree) statue at Puerta del Sol is made of stone, and is the emblem of the city.

Continuing down the streets of Old Madrid (as this area is known), one comes to Plaza Mayor, another historic landmark of Madrid. Built in the early 17th century in a period known as "Madrid of the Austrias", this square was originally the scene of theater performances and bullfights, and served as a meeting place for towns-people. The buildings are mostly Renaissance style, and in the center is a statue of Philip III, the King who built the Plaza.

In the photo on the right are a group of musicians that were performing some folk music, improvising on the spot. The man in middle, as well as the one in black to the left of him, were singing, and the man sitting with the guitar was trying to keep up with them. The way both the vocalists as well as the instrumentalists were interacting -- constantly being playful, showing off their skills, trying to throw each other off the melody, reminded me of Indian classical music, where this kind of thing happens all the time.

The streets of Old Madrid convey the sense of history that is behind them -- almost every other building has an interesting story behind it. Another nearby 17th century landmark is the Iglesia Catedral de San Isidro, a baroque church that was later on made cathedral of Madrid. It was getting to be lunch time, so I entered one of the many bars that line the Madrid streets, serving food. The word "bar" normally conjures up ideas of a place for drinking, but these are just regular restaurants, where people of all ages go and eat -- at the bar. JC had advised me in the morning to try something called Bocadillo de Tortilla. In Spain, tortilla means a Spanish omelette (unlike Mexico, where it means a round-shaped thin flour bread). And bocadillo means sandwich. I decided to try it.

So I rehearsed the four or five Spanish phrases that I knew, braced myself, and bravely went and sat down at the bar in one such place. The bartender came up to me, and spoke a long sentence, which I assumed was him wishing me good afternoon or something. I nodded and smiled. He smiled back. There was a moment of silence, which I took as my cue to express my desire for food. So I carefully said "Quiero... Bocadillo de Tortilla".

Instead of proceeding to fetch the item in question, he replied with an even longer sentence, which ended in a question of some sort. Assuming that this was him asking me what I wanted to drink, I answered "Limonada, por favor". This, as it turned out, was not the answer he was looking for. I think he had asked me some detail about how to prepare the bocadillo, what kind of bread to use, or something like that. But my answer indicated to him that I was not very up in the Spanish department, so he ceased asking me questions, and brought me what turned out to be a fairly tasty sandwich. And a limonada. I was very proud of myself.

Continuing to walk west in Old Madrid, one comes up to Palicio Real, the royal palace of Spain, made by the Bourbon family when they took over in the early 18th century. Built in the classic Italian Baroque style, it houses a very impressive collection itself. There are numerous precious rooms, sure to bring out the interior decorator in all of us. I thought about taking the tour -- I was very tempted by the five Stradivarius violins -- but decided to forego the collection, and moved on.

Right next to the palace is the Catedral de la Almudena.

Walking a little bit further south, one comes to a part of Madrid called La Latina, which preserves the traditional flavor of the old part of the city. In the middle stands another Bourbon landmark, an archway called Puerta de Toledo, built in the early 19th century.

A little north of the palace is a monument that very often gets ignored by guidebooks, as well as tourists. This is Templo de Debod, which is across a moor from the palace. I was quite impressed by this interesting structure, so I waited a few hours to capture it just as the sun was setting.

By the time I reached Plaza España, it was after nightfall, so I thought I could make the best of it and take some night pictures. One advantage of being a nerdy photographer is that I always have my tripod with me. Another advantage is that I have access to programs like gimp, in which I can hand-color these photos to give them some more flair.

The great American philosopher P. J. O'Rourke says:

It is better to spend today like there's no tomorrow, than to spend tonight like there's no money.

The next morning, I got up and first took some pictures of Juan Carlos and Marisa's apartment. I haven't mentioned this earlier, but they live in what must be called a palace apartment (or, as I would say in Spanish, palacio de apartamento :-). This place is huge. There are three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and everything is big. Plus, they have furnished it very nicely, which makes it all the better.

And here is Juan Carlos at his electrophysiology setup in his lab.

I started off that day's proceedings by going to Plaza de Toros, the famous bullring in Madrid. The bull-fighting season had ended two weeks earlier, so it was all quiet. I particularly like the picture in the right, because the building and the clouds seem to make the face of a bull.

And now it was time to resume my tour of Madrid where I'd left it off the previous day. First, walking towards the newer parts of Madrid, I stopped by Calle Mayor and took a few pictures.

And this painting in the Plaza Mayor caught my eye. There was no artist around, so I don't know who to give credit to for this one...

These little booths, called Once (which I believe is some kind of acronym) are found all over the city. I found out that this is a lottery, and it is a brilliant move on the part of the local association for blind people. Not only are the blind the primary beneficiaries of the income from the lottery, but they also man the booths, thus giving them employment. A win-win situation.

As one walks around the newer portion of city, one can't help but notice the glamorously made plazas, a lot of which feature elaborate fountains. Right near the Banco de España, for example, there is the 18th century Fuente de la Cibeles (fountain of Sybill -- the wife of Saturn). This famous fountain is considered one of the landmarks of Madrid. The bank building can be seen in the background.

Madrid is a museum-goer's delight. There are at least a hundred known museums, featuring everything from art to sculpture, archaeology, and science. The most prominent museum, of course, is the Museo del Prado, which houses what must certainly be one of the most important art collections in the world. There are special rooms dedicated to Goya, Velázquez, El Greco, and several other prominent painters. The museum, housed in a neoclassical building since 1818, is definitely overwhelming. I am not a very ardent museum kind of person, but I still went to it twice -- once on this day, and once more four days later.

Right next to the Prado are the Real Jardin Botanico, the Royal Botanical Gardens. I thought it deserved a look-see, but after paying the fees and entering, I realized that these were some massive gardens - I could easily spend a few hours just perusing around, looking at plants and trees. But I had more grounds to cover, so I quickly took this picture and left.

The Prado, Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, and the contemporary art museum Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, form what is called the "art triangle" of Madrid. At all three places, they wouldn't let me take my camera in. But at the last of the three, (which, incidentally, houses Picasso's stunning Guernica), I did get a photo at the gift shop, which I then altered in gimp to look like a 20th century piece of art.

Walking north form Prado, one comes upon what must clearly be the best park in Madrid -- the Parque del Retiro. Begun in 1630, this 130-acre green expanse is the ideal place to relax, and the more botanical minded can examine how the French style flower beds contrast with the English style gardens. The park has a couple of museums of its own. And several monuments. Not to mention the elaborate fountains. The picture on the left is that of the monument in honor of Alonso XIII.

It is essential for anybody who wants to enter into the spirit of Madrid life to have a stroll before dinner. Just as it is custom to have an apertif (appetizer) at the cafés, so one is called upon to go on a pub-crawl through the heart of Madrid from eight o'clock in the evening to dinner time, which here means anywhere from ten to eleven. This is what Juan Carlos and I were planning on doing that night.

While waiting for him, I took this picture in Plaza de Callao, which I hand-painted in gimp like some of the ones above.

Lining the streets of Old Madrid are also countless tapas bars. This is where we went that night, and the food was delectable. I was particularly blown away by something called cecina, which consisted of thin, lightly crisped slices of beef, served with a dash of lemon and olive oil. My mouth waters just as I think of it.

In general, food in Madrid is superb. I can think of many reasons why I want to go back to Madrid, and food is certainly one of the top ones. In particular, the ham. Madrileños take great pride in their ham, and rightly so. There are countless shops, called Museo del Jamons (literally, ham museums) lining the city, which are the size of department stores, and the only thing they sell is ham. Thousands of square feet of ham lines the walls of these shops. The jamon encatalán we had one night at a restaurant right near the house was amazing.

I was told that people who are really serious about their ham don't just go eat it at a restaurant. Ham lovers who truly care (i.e., are obsessed with it) can "buy" a piglet at a farm. This is how it works: You go to a pig farm and declare a piglet as yours. The piglet stays on the farm, but from that point on, you pay for its upkeep, and you decide what it eats (under the presumption that its diet will affect what it will taste like, in the same sense that the amount of eggnog I consume every holiday season must make me a sweeter person). You visit your pig every now and then, and the farm sends you pictures how its growing. You frame the pictures, put them up on your desk, admire them every now and then, fantasizing about how your little piggy will taste like when the time comes.

Then, the day arrives. Your pig (who by now has turned into a nice juicy specimen) is sacrificed, and as per your instructions, the parts are sent to you, or are sent away for curing under appropriate conditions, as directed, of course, by you. So you and your family can sit down and enjoy a hearty meal, savoring the attachment you have with this, your very own pig.

All I can say to these people is: Don't ever call me a nerd.

At a lot of places in the newer parts of Madrid, it seemed to be a natural thing for people to dress up (complete with elaborate makeup), and stand in a pose, hoping that people will give them money. This man had three dogs with him, making him a interesting subject for picture. (The bigger version shows him better. You may need to up the brightness of your monitor to see it, though.)

Starting the next day, I made day trips, to Toledo, Segovia, and Alcalá de Henares, and those pictures are found on separate pages. All through this time, I had been improving my Spanish skills, which were now at the point where I could walk into a bar and ask for lunch, understand what they said, have lunch, and walk out of there without making too much of a mess of it. Except for the one time the bartender decided to get chatty. But that's another story. One night, we were going to go out for dinner, and the place didn't take reservations on phone. Because I got there early, I decided to be brave and tried to make a reservation at the door. After all, how hard could it be? You walk in, say what you want, and they nod and write it down. A textbook table reservation. So I walked in, and said what I wanted ("Quiero reservar una mesa para quattro para nueve media, por favor"). And the guy, instead of nodding and writing it fown, proceeded to tell me what sounded like the story of his life. He spoke loudly, and gestured wildly with both arms. He was pointing every which way, and must have spoken for a full two minutes. His dialogue ended with a question. I was completely nonplussed. Not that I had been very plussed at any point of that conversation. So I did what brave men have done in several other periods of history when faced with a challenging situation: I thanked him and left.

About 20 minutes later, when the other people arrived, I met them outside, and we went in, and there was a different guy in charge of reservations. This guy seemed a lot more reasonable, in the sense that he actually gave a sensible answer when asked for a reservation: he said it would take about half an hour. This made everyone unhappy, and Ana, a friend of JC and Marisa who was joining us for dinner, argued with him that I had attempted to make a reservation earlier, and had been refused (I'm not sure that what had happened to me would count as a refusal, but I wasn't understanding this conversation either, so I just smiled and waved). Either way, we got a table within five minutes, so maybe my attempt wasn't totally in vain. And the fabada, a hearty bean and meat soup, was really good.

My last day in Madrid, I went to the Prado again, also also spent some time at Plaza Colón (Plaza of Columbus), which has beautiful façades. The sky was blue, and it was a great day to capture it. The picture with the flag is more complete than it looks -- it even has the quintessential European feature of two lovers embracing, right under the flag. (You need to click on the picture and see the bigger version to see that clearly).

The next day, I caught my flight back to London. It was raining, so there were general delays in outgoing flights from Madrid airport, but my Easyjet flight was bang on time. It was a perfect ending to a perfect trip. Would I go there again? Heck, I'd go there again just eat that ham.