Notes From A Weekend In Madrid
~ Secret concerts, an empire's history in a day, and top bunks at hostels. ~
The annoying thing about cliches? They’re always true.
I’ve been in Sevilla for over three weeks now, and simultaneously I feel like I’ve been here for years and also, just landed. I’ve had time to explore the alleys in Santa Cruz, cry in various wifi-enabled cafes, get lost (multiple times) on an electric scooter, attempt (keyword is attempt) to have Spanish conversations, enjoy tapas in Triana with complete strangers, and pull all my past camp counsellor knowledge/skills out of the archives - all the essentials for the first two-three weeks as an Au Pair.
So of course, just as I’m letting myself feel cautiously settled in the city - it was time for a weekend away. Back to Madrid. Another Au Pair was with me the Sunday before we left - we were on a walking tour and met a group of exchange students from Madrid visiting Sevilla for the weekend. They said to let them know if we were ever in Madrid, and I had spontaneously bought tickets to a secret concert in Madrid for the next weekend a couple of days before - we booked the train tickets a couple of days after (and yes, the bus was cheaper, but I’m a diva and not cut-out for a six-hour 1 am - 7 pm journey okay).
Here are highlights from the weekend, plus recommendations for things to do and see (because if I didn’t give out unsolicited advice on the internet could you really even consider this a blog).
We stayed in The Hat - imagine the mind of a minimalist interior designer/illustrator, throw in a roof-top bar and you get the idea of the hostel (and if the word hostel still brings up an idea of a dingy back-alley motel with crowded rooms, stay at The Hat). After I snagged one of the two top-bunks in our four-person room (regrets), we put our stuff away and I quickly put on mascara for the first time in my nanny-filled week to elicit some kind of greeting other than, “you look tired” from the locals.
We met our roommates for the weekend that night, an exchange student from Chicago named Larry, and a dude from Mexico city named Diego. With a Lova from Sweden and Kate from Canada also in the room, all I needed to be doing was drinking a double-double from Tim Hortons (which ACTUALLY EXISTS in Madrid), and we pretty much validated every stereotype from our country name-wise.
For both nights we ended up eating around La Latina. I wish I could say because we knew it one of the most popular, happening areas of Madrid for tapas - but we were just hungry, it was the first recommended area reception gave, and only five minutes away from the hostel. We got lucky, the neighbourhood is a maze of narrow alleys overflowing with tapas bars and stunning churches (churches and bars never seem to be too far apart in Spain). Calle de la Cava Baja or Calle de la Cava Alta were the two main streets for food (according to The Hat reception), with plenty of bars, bistros, and restaurants all over-flowing with people, each one seemingly busier as the one before (and with people equally as chic to the point where you question if you’re cool enough to eat there).
The first night closed off with a Sangria party at the Hostel (note that no actual Spanish people will ever be found at a sangria party, just like no Canadian will be found riding a moose guzzling maple syrup). Followed by a failed bar crawl because I’m a grandma in a twenty-three-year-old body and only one time falling off the ladder to my top bunk.
The next night was more successful, we went to a secret concert put on by So Far Sounds, a company that does pop-up concerts around the world. It’s a lottery system to get tickets, and if you get to buy them you only know the date of the concert. You get an email with an address 24-hours before the concert starts, and you only find out who you paid to see when you get there. I milked this cool and alternative vibe I suddenly possessed and told anyone that would listen that I was going. We saw three talented artists - Ladmiro, Nebraska, and Enrique Vaz Oliver (a Spanish Ed Sheeran).
Thanks to a recommendation from a friend, we finished the night at an equally cool bar in La Latina - Sala Equis, a vintage-style movie theatre that doubles as a prohibition-esque style bar. The cool streak that started at the pop-up concert ended when I got an Aperol Spritz and made an IG story at the bar (#hiddengem #takemeback).
When the sun was up, it was walking tour time, a must-do for any new city. You get oriented (theoretically), meet new people, and learn random facts to use as unwanted conversation starters. An example you ask? Twist my arm! Apparently one of the many King Phillips of Espana was especially lazy, he had a different servant for almost every task - one to tie up his right shoe, a different one to tie up his left shoe, someone to tuck him in, another person to put hot coals under his bed to keep it warm. He died in a fire because I guess the person who was supposed to take the coals out from under his bed had a day off and everyone else was too busy with their roles.
See? It’s fun.
You better believe that I signed up for back-to-back walking tours, two-for-one baby (kidding, I paid full price I really should have planned ahead). In the moment, halfway through the first tour when the second tour was presented as an option to the group, it seemed like a great idea, and my inner history nerd was coming out.
Plaza Mayor was the starting point for both tours, the first went through sites like the Plaza de la Villa, Teatro Real Royal Opera House, the Royal Palace, the Almudena Cathedral. The second went through the Barrio De Las Letras (name-drop time, the area was home to people like Miguel Cervantes, Federico Garcia Lorca, Ernest Hemingway and more), then towards the golden triangle of art: the Prado Museum, the Thyssen Museum, and the Reina Sofia Museum. En route, we passed the Congress of Deputies, Plaza de Cibeles, and patios filled with people drinking Cruzcampo instead of doing two back-to-back walking tours in boots - I was petty before I remembered, you’re in Madrid, calm down sir.
For so long I’ve read about these places, places that have stories forever hidden by time. It’s something to learn the history of an empire in a book, it’s another thing to be standing in front of a northern European baroque-style city hall, and turn around the see a tower built by Muslims; in less than one-hundred meters you get a sense of how many empires and cultures have left their mark on the city, from the Moors to the Habsburgs. Seemingly “normal” things came out of this history of conquest, like the way every single Spanish home has a leg of meat (watch out vegans) - it’s because when the Christians took over the city from the Muslims, Muslims and Jews had to eat ham as a way of proving their “new Christian faith”. Our guide pointed to side-by-side apartments that used to have these meat legs (pretend that’s the real name) hanging in their window, and it had to get slimmer each day to prove you were eating it (our tour guide made the joke, “or you would see a lot of fat dogs.”)
Other random walking tour notes;
In Puerta Del Sol, you can always find characters like Spongebob, Dora the Explorer etc. that are there to pose with you (for money, claro). When Chinese President, Xi Jinping, visited Madrid in the fall of 2018, Winnie the Pooh was “banised” from the square because Jinping has gotten compared to him in the past and didn’t want that happening again. “...police officers asked him [beloved Winnie the Pooh] to stay out of view as Mr Xi's motorcade passed on the way to Madrid's historic town hall building.”
There’s also a video from that same square of Spongebob and Hello Kitty in a fist-fight.
Four neighbourhoods you should care about in Madrid; La Latinas, La Vapiez, Malasana, and Chueca.
If you want to find a good tapas bar, look for one without a “Tapas” menu. If they have aperitivos, then you know it’s real.
The empire saw it’s peak and decline within the same family - quite literally. The Habsburg ruled over the dynasty during the 16th and 17th centuries, and to keep power close to home, they, well, bred close to home (consanguinity facts!). After going through a couple runs of Philips and Charles, the final Charles took the throne but was so physically and mentally disabled (re: the effects of inbreeding) that after his death Spain passed to the Bourbon dynasty.
Falamenca means the expelled one, and it’s the root of Flamenco dancing. If you want to find real Flamenca shows, make sure the place has no stage and no lights, it should just be about the dancing.
You can buy secret cookies baked by Spanish nuns about five minutes away from Plaza Mayor (here’s the low-down on how-to get your hands on those heavenly cookies).
Sangria is super expensive to make and therefore expensive to buy, get Pinto de Vinero instead, aka “poor man’s sangria”.
There are over 3400 rooms in the Royal Palace and the rent is still cheaper than Toronto apartments (latter half is false but it may as well be).
Galileo had to be called in to help build this statue because it kept falling over.
Mucho meirda translate to lots of shit, but you can also use it to wish someone luck. It came from the days when plays were performed in dingy places where, if there were a lot of people, there would be a lot of shit on the ground. The more people = the more shit = the better the play.