This is going to come off a pretty “meta.” I was in Madrid for four days a few years ago for the first time. I’m hardly any kind of authority on an, “ultimate guide.” As far as the opposite end of the writing spectrum, there were no beautiful moments of growth and flourishing that left me yearning to write a long poetic narrative about Madrid.
Instead, I’ll share my top memories from the trip. One of my greatest hopes for this blog is that it’s a “database” so that I’ll always remember the wonderful things I’ve been fortunate enough to experience. If you read this piece and feel inspired to do something that I did, or just have fun following along, that’s awesome!
1. Mercado San Miguel in Madrid.
Long before I traveled abroad, a friend of mine would yammer on and on about how nowhere in the world had food that was as good as Spain. I’d roll my eyes because that sounded exactly like the kind of thing that someone who studied abroad in Spain would say. (Doesn’t it, though?)
It was only once I began feasting my way around Mercado San Miguel that I thought, “hey — wait a minute. This really is the best food I’ve ever eaten. Like insanely good. Like…unfairly good. Like…there’s no way that there’s not ecstasy pills and THC in this food, type of good…because eating this food is making me insanely happy.”
Magic?
I’m not Anthony Bourdain. I can’t tell you why specifically and in a scientific way why the food at the Mercado San Miguel is astounding. I’d like to say something smart like, “it’s all locally sourced” but I really don’t know. What I do know, is that you visit the little stands here, and the most simple of bites — a piece of cheese, a bit of jamon, an oyster, are somehow, the best you’ve ever had.
We did a “sherry flight” around the market which was unique, if not slightly embarrassing because the carousel to carry all of the sherry is so oppressively large and no one in the market knows why you’re carrying it, least of all you. So, you get about six different types of sherry and a map that tells you which stall to visit and which glass to drink once you get there. The pairings were always on point, and we ate our way through every major food group.
Moreover, the seafood at any kiosk is brilliant. Even if you think you’d despise a particular type of seafood — you won’t hate it when you try it at this market. I thought I hated tuna fish until I tried it on a cracker and holy shit, that was a religious experience and a half. Tuna salad anywhere else in the world has a ‘dirty panty’ air to it. Tuna salad at the market? It will know those panties right off your little legs.
Beyond seafood, you have to get the jamon iberico — that one is a non-negotiable. You can even get a cone full of what looks like mini hot dogs, but they’re cylindrical, small, jamons.
My favorite
Last, and my personal favorite, the stuffed olives. Picture GIGANTIC olives stuffed with creamy, salty, cheese and other accouterments like tangy peppers! I’m not kidding when I say I think we had upward of fifty in one night and went back a second night for them. As I’m writing this a tear is coming to my eye because I miss them so much. THAT is how effing delicious they are.
I don’t think there’s a sane human on the planet who could dislike Mercado San Miguel.
2. Buen Retiro Park.
I’ll be honest, when this place was on the list at the suggestion of my best friend, I was a little skeptical. We have this whole city…and we’re going to a park? A park… as in… those places that all look the same and can be found everywhere in the world?
Boy, was I eating crow after we visited.
Buen Retiro wound up being one of my best experiences in Madrid. For starters, it’s positively stunning. The grass is vibrant green, I mean really, the envy of all homeowners in the United States. The flowers are bright and just seem to be perfectly placed. And the lake in the middle of it all? Picturesque. The grounds with touches like the gigantic lark reminded me of a hybrid between Versailles and Central Park.
I think one of the coolest parts was that everyone around us was speaking Spanish, meaning, I’d have to assume that all of the people surrounding us were locals.
The day we visited the park had been really long, so it was especially nice to sit on a bench, listen to the local language, and marvel at the children running away from their parents, the couples flirting happily, and the sun hitting the flowers ever so perfectly.
3. Joy Teatro Eslava.
I remember going to this infamous nightclub felt especially cool because we didn’t leave to go there until around one in the morning. How rebellious! No really, you would think I was sixteen given how giddy with excitement I was and exclaiming, “it’s past midnight and we’re just leaving now!” I’m very wild, everyone. And that’s something I really need you to know.
To be fair, we spent two hours prior to our departure downing a bottle of champagne in our bed with the AC blasting. We were actually contemplating just laying in the heavenly, arctic, goodness while getting drunk in our hotel room. Looking back, I think that’s when I started to develop the persona of an elderly woman. It literally happened in that moment.
So, not only did we creep out past midnight, we WALKED to the club, which for some reason felt just as cool, it made me feel like a local just casually walking to an evening out and all. It was remarkably close to us.
The nightclub itself was ‘baller’ as hell, and of course, set my nerdy heart aflame for one particular reason. It’s housed in a 19th century theater! That’s pretty appropriate given the razzle-dazzle level of entertainment that Joy Teatro Eslava brings in during many nights of the week. The balcony facades are still in place high above the dance floor and there’s an impressive sized stage in the back of the club for performances.
I couldn’t believe that when we arrived, it was past one in the morning, and we were still considered early! The place didn’t really begin to get packed until two hours later! With that in mind, we walked home with the rising sun behind us after drinking and sweating on the dance floor all while wondering if life could get any better than that night.
4. Drinking in the Plaza Mayor.
One of the first things we did in Madrid was get rip, roaring, drunk in the Plaza Mayor. I mean, really. We paid probably double what any normal person should for cocktails which honestly felt like a right of passage when visiting Madrid as a tourist.
The expansiveness of the area, as well as the breadth of types of people was a people watcher’s paradise. It’s nearly unfathomable to sit in one corner of the plaza and look way out, alllllllll the way to the other corner, and realize how much space is in the middle.
These headless people showed up and we paid them double what they asked for after they badgered us to pose photos because we were drunk and stoopid. Besides. Overpaying in Plaza Mayor is just the thing to do.
Still, I can look at these photos and feel the palpable sensations of pure joy — this was one of my happiest moments in Spain as a whole because it was so random whereas I’m normally meticulous and uptight with planning. We were laughing to the point of crying over complete nonsense of the moment, and we were fully living. No other thoughts or plans or worries. Just us, some headless Spaniards, and silliness.
5. Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum.
I had no idea what a life changing experience that a trip to this museum would become for me — I truly had no notion. Well, I mean, maybe I did in a childish sense. I knew ahead of time that I wanted to be smart and ‘cultured’ and to me, people who were both of those things visited art museums.
So, in essence, I went to this museum because I thought it was what real travelers…good travelers did. I had no stock, no interest, whatsoever in art, let alone art history.
However, immediately upon my first gaze at a room full of paintings, I fell in love. I couldn’t tell you who the artists were, bu they were definitely people who loved Jesus… a lot. The way to enjoy each painting felt natural to me. I just looked at every one and tried to imagine how the artist felt when creating the piece.
I’d think about what caused them to paint it. And when that felt too academic, I’d simply just decide what I liked or didn’t like about the piece. And visiting an art museum need not be any more complicated nor pretentious than that.
After doing this several times in various parts of the museum, I began to feel a connection to the artists. They were long gone, but their legacy lived on through their art. Imagining who each of the might have been allowed me to craft imaginary stories about them hovering over their canvas, but also, who they might have loved…or lost…or envied.
Meeting Picasso in Madrid
And then we got to another floor, and the pieces in a particular wing looked familiar, even though I’d never seen anything like them in person before. I looked at a plaque and read aloud, “Pablo Picasso.” And I felt the breath suddenly taken from me.
I was looking at the works of the great Pablo Picasso. I’d only ever heard about him in pop culture or in a passing reference at school. Seeing his works in person didn’t feel like an experience that was meant for people like me. I was still at a point where I could hardly fathom that I was esteemed enough to have the fortune to travel sometimes, let alone be among those who get to marvel at the brilliant work of one so famous.
I didn’t know him. Really, I didn’t know anything about him. But looking at his work, I felt as though he were somehow in the room with me. It was strange…and poignant. And so began a love affair with art.
If you’ve visited Madrid, what were your favorite parts of your trip? Let me know in the comments!
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