I’m coming to the end of my third week here in Madrid, after the first few days that seemed infinitely long, time has picked up the pace to the “oh my God I’ve been already been here for ______” speed. So yes, I’ve been here for almost three weeks, and I couldn’t tell you where most of it has gone. I’m beginning to get in a rhythm here. I know a lot of other people that dove head first into Madrid when they got here and they are just now coming up for air. I’m doing much the opposite. I had a few missteps in the beginning but I’m getting into a groove now. My change in attitude has produced a physical manifestation that I noticed today. I was finally walking, standing, and living at my full height. It’s not something you normally notice about yourself but today I couldn’t ignore it: I hit my head on a handrail in the metro. I haven’t gotten any taller and the metro has gotten any smaller, I’m just getting comfortable. My tentative attitude had been producing slouched posture and up until now I didn’t have to worry about handrails. Now I do.
Though time has gone by for the most part without me knowing it, I can account for some of it. Last weekend I went on a day trip to Segovia, a small city west of Madrid. Segovia is famous for the aqueduct that the Romans built in the second century, and after seeing it first hand I can safely say it is as impressive it looks in pictures and then some. My Art in Spain teacher showed the class a slide of the aqueduct and I remember thinking, “surely something that old and that big and that exposed to the elements has got to be showing wear and tear. Hell I bet it’s probably going to come down soon.” Wrong. And not just a simple wrong, but a hell-no-what-a-stupid-thing-to-think wrong. After marveling at it for a day I’m confident that I’ll meet my end before that aqueduct crumbles.
Segovia has an embarrassment of riches. It’s not a big city and it has notoriety aplenty because of the aqueduct, but it turns out that there is also a gorgeous cathedral and a pretty neat castle there as well. Both the castle and the cathedral on their own would be enough to bring wide-eyed tourists like me to Segovia, but having all three is just gluttonous. Not mention the rugged mountain country side that surrounds the town and the generally pleasant aesthetic of the city, Segovia is an interesting gem of a city that cost me a mere 6 Euros to get to. Also it’s important to note that this glowing report of Segovia is taken from a trip I made when the sky was overcast and threatening rain all day with a billowing wind. Not an ideal day to walk around and climb up to the top of castles but I was impressed nonetheless. Pictures of Segovia are up on my facebook page.
The day after I got back from Segovia I had school work to do, namely reading the first section of James Joyce’s A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, so I thumbed through my Frommer’s guide to Madrid to look for a good café where I could read and sip coffee. I selected a famous hangout of Madrid’s artists, writers, painters, Boheimians, etc called the Gran Café de Gijon. Frommer’s told me that the place hasn’t changed since Franco and it was a Hemingway hangout and I now believe both of those to be true. You walk in and the worn red velvet booths and waiters wearing white jackets with gold buttons let you know immediately that this is unique. I grabbed a seat, ordered a blanco y negro (vanilla ice cream in black coffee, expensive, but exquisite), opened Joyce and didn’t leave for the next three hours. I made a considerable dent in A Portrait but I did take some time to look around and take stock of my fellow patrons. They were mostly affluent Madrienos who were enjoying a smoke, a drink, and a ively conversation. Café Gijon is probably my favorite place in Madrid, at least on par with Retiro Park as far as a cool place to hang out. I can certainly see myself spending more time there, especially enjoying its outdoor seating once the weather gets warmer.
That’s all I have for now, Cadiz awaits tomorrow. To all my readers who see this is the midst of a snow storm: it’s probably going to 70 degrees where I’m going. Middle America eat your heart out. More later, hasta luego,
Joel
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