Falling in Love Again

 The first sunny and relatively warm weekend of the year will always bring out the best in people. I have slowly, recently, been re-falling in love with Madrid, a city which I loved at first sight and then became less and less excited about over time (as happens with many love affairs). Lately, though, the city has become alive yet again for me, and I find delight in its nooks and crannies as well as in its gleaming historical buildings. Something which I have always loved about Madrid are the books. It is a very literate city with tons of book lovers. Book stands show up everywhere with options from historical to contemporary to art... whatever. I am always attracted to book stores, book stands. Almost every book calls to me, even though once I have them, I rarely finish them. There is something exciting, enticing about all of the possibilities that books hold... that there are books about things you didn't even think of, and that you can use them to be informed, to be relaxed, to enjoy with a coffee or a glass of wine. So, a sunny day with book stands for me, is a perfect mix. The book stands in the following photos are a staple of Madrid. They have been around forever; I remember them from my first days here four years ago. Over time, I became less and less enchanted by them. But today, I found them just as enticing as the first day and enjoyed browsing them on the way to meet friends in the park. The final photo is how I spent the majority of the day, soaking the sun with a book. I met three friends in Retiro Park, we ate a delicious menu del dia in a nearby restaurant with artichokes and ham, merluza, and ice cream.

City of Surprises

Yes, Spain is the middle of a detrimental crisis.... but in spite of the economic problems, Spaniards enjoy life. Little things can be noticed in Madrid like that bars are less crowded than they once were years ago (and by less crowded, I mean that three times the amount of people that you would see in a bar in San Diego can be seen on a Monday, Tuesday, etc here....) Spaniards do not sacrifice fun. On any given day walking through the street, I find a gastronomical festival, a parade, a glitzy "Fashion Night" spectacle.... This photo in this post is a perfect example. Heading out Saturday night with a couple of friends, we somehow found ourselves in the middle of a Revlon-sponsored party, given free gin and tonics and chatting with tons of well-dressed people from Revlon. How this happened? No idea, but this is Madrid. You find yourself constantly walking into a surprise. I found my first surprise that night actually, after having decided to wear very high heels.... I left my house headed to begin the night at a friend's house, and excitedly walking down the flight of stairs into the metro station, proceeded to fall down every single cement stair. Everyone in the station stared aghast at the "dolled-up" girl that had tumbled down... and two security guards rushed to help me with the most concerned expressions I may ever ever have seen in my life. Simply embarrassed, I replied "Estoy bien! Estoy bien! No pasa nada." Today, I have a few bruises, though am just fine. Sometimes the embarrassment is far worse than the physical pain. Luckily, as most of you know, I do have an exceptional level of pain-tolerance so I can manage to fall down a few flights of stairs and end up good as new.

My new Sunday ritual is to read the entire Sunday newspaper and sip wine in a bar. You can rarely go into a bar without having some kind of a casual chat with a waiter or another customer. People here are fascinated by the fact that I am American. I do get irritated if they want to speak English with me, because I am here to learn Spanish! Now I have learned to just respond in Spanish, no matter what. Anyway, learning I am American, they always want to talk to me. On Thursday, I arrived early to have wine with some friends. The charming waiter asked where I was from. I replied "California." The older woman at the next table overheard and said "Ohhhh California! Que bien!" She was a well-kept 78 year old woman enjoying a whiskey and reading a book. We chatted for some time, and at the end, she wished for me that no Spanish men break my heart and that I meet one that just begs me to never leave Spain. She said she doesn't know anyone my age (no kidding), or else she would set me up in a second. Everyone I meet asks if I have a Spanish boyfriend, and are just incredulous when I say no. Why not? They always ask. Well.... how does one answer that question?

Visitors from across the charco

My dad and Cathi came to visit for two short days last week. A long time had passed since I had hosted visitors. I always feel a bit nervous about having visitors because I want to show them the best, most authentic restaurants, all sights touristic and less-known, and present them with a wealth of history to accompany their experience. This equates to a lot of stress, especially considering that Spain is a country so rich in history, so complicated in politics and economic crisis, and overly abundant in fantastic bars and restaurants, some "cutre" (rough around the edges and very authentic) and others with excellent modern ambiances. On their first day, we walked for a few hours around the "everyone must see" touristy spots and then through the relaxing Retiro park. We ate ham, a calamari sandwich, olives, and mushrooms and drank beers and wine. The second day while I was working, they saw the ins and outs of the city through two bus tours. I was proud of them for being so proactive and finding their way around. They love how cosmopolitan Madrid is and how easy it is to find one's way around. I met them in the afternoon and took them to Plaza dos de Mayo where they experienced a bit of my everyday relaxing, terrace lifestyle. We sat a midst the families and young people and enjoyed a couple of beers in the sun. Then we made our way to St. James, an excellent paella restaurant in Barrio Salamanca which a friend had recommended to me. There, we enjoyed a bottle of Ramon Bilbao wine, an avocado duck ham salad, ham croquettas, and a seafood paella. It was a friendly atmosphere with impeccable service and the food was just what I hoped to share with them: uniquely Spanish and perfectly delicious. Our final stop was at an everyday bar called Mas Q Menos in Barrio Salamanca where my friend Anita joined us on the terrace. We shared another bottle of wine (in Spain even delicious bottles of wine are much less expensive than in the states, so ordering one is never a major splurge), and remained there chatting for a couple of hours. Then, we parted ways and they went back "over the charco" which the Spanish refer to when they go to the USA. Crossing the charco means crossing the "pond" aka the Atlantic Ocean. 

After almost two years of living in the delightful "locura" that is Spain, I no longer feel the "wow" moments at every corner upon discovering a new architectural wonder or a bar filled only with locals. Living in Spain, and being engulfed by the charms of Europe is now everyday and regular. The everyday-ness, though, has become a regular indulgence. I no longer live the "wow" moments... but the sounds of people every moment in the streets, the endless wine and tapas, the timeless art that lines every corner has engulfed my being. This indulgence of every sense is now a regular part of my life.