Last day in Madrid, Friday, October 14

Good morning.

I'm back in the states and up early with jet lag so I thought it'd be a good time to finish journaling about my trip. I spent Friday morning on a tour of the sites involved in the Battle of Brunete. Located west of Madrid, the battle took place there in 1937 when the Republic was trying to break through the fascists' lines and relieve pressure on its troops elsewhere.This battle area was a little different than the Jarama battle sites that I had seen in May in that most of the Jarama Valley is still undeveloped olive groves whereas most of the Brunete area seemed to have been developed with housing subdivisions (urbanizaciones) dotting the landscape. But like Jarama, the International Brigades played an important role in the fighting. Once again my guide for the day was Severino Montero aka Seve who is a retired high school history teacher who now leads tours and does research about the International Brigades. We saw several important sites: the spot on the banks of the Guadarrama River that were a base for the International Brigades; the town of Brunete that was rebuilt in a grid pattern after the war by prison labor but made to look like it was old and always that way; fascists' fortifications and tunnels; Mosquito Ridge where Oliver Law, commander of the Abraham Lincoln Battalion and the first African American to lead white troops in battle was killed by a bomb; and also where photographer Gerda Taro, a colleague of photographer Robert Capa was killed in an accident with a tank. I especially enjoyed getting out of the city, seeing the countryside, and learning more about the Civil War and the International Brigades. We were joined by Andres, a young colleague of Seve's who he is training to lead the tours in the future. I enjoyed practicing my Spanish with them as neither of them knew much English.

Back in Madrid by early afternoon I decided to go back to the Malasaña neighborhood and find a place to eat away from all the tourists. A lot of restaurants (most I think) in Spain have a "menú del día" which includes two courses, a drink, bread, and dessert at a discounted rate. I found a small bar where I ate salmorejo soup (similar to gazpacho), a thin rib eye steak, bread, beer, and chocolate pudding for about $12!. Incidentally, alcohol in Spain is treated as any other beverage (no special taxes or regulations), unlike in the US, and is often cheap by our standards. After eating I went to the nearby Museum of the History of Madrid, located in a former royal hospice (whatever that means), which chronicles the history of the city from 1561, when it became the capital of Spain, up to 1919. I would have liked it to have included the Civil War and the 20th century but I was not surprised as Spain is still divided as to its legacy (sound familiar?) and no matter what they did it would be controversial. And there is only so much space. There was, however, a special exhibit of photographs from the daily newspaper ABC of Madrid between the years 1900 and 1936. What was most interesting to me was that many pictures taken around the same time showed starkly different sides of Madrid, both the wealthy bourgois city and the poor working class areas.

After visiting the museum, I decided to take the Metro to the Chamberí neighborhood where my school was and walk around a bit. But I didn't do that for too long as I was very tired. I eventually took the metro back to my hotel, packed, and watched a Spanish game show while I ate a baguette of Iberian ham, tomato paste, and olive oil that I bought at a nearby street vendor. I was very tired and went to bed early. Saturday morning, I left for the airport a little after 8am. The flight back was uneventful, but it took about an hour to get through immigration as the line was so long. One of these days I will get Global Entry which will make the process a little bit quicker. Thanks for joining me on this journey. 

Until next time.

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo

Madrid, Thursday, Ocober 13, 2022

Greetings once again from Spain.

Yesterday, I spent most of the day at the Royal Palace of Aranjuez, exploring the palace and gardens. I took an early commuter train from Madrid that traveled along the railroad right of way of the first railroad in Spain, connecting the capital to the summer home of the royal family. The royal family no longer uses the palace as a residence--a security guard told me there isn't even a working kitchen--but it is still sometimes used for ceremonial occasions. You can read more about the history of the palace at the hyperlink that I created above. However, I will say that the palace was very ornate and much nicer looking than the El Pardo Palace that I visited last Sunday. Two rooms of the palace were especially unique: the Salon Arabé (Arab Salon), an ornate room decorated to resember the Alhambra and that was used by the King for smoking (supposedly Charles III (the Spanish one) was a big smoker); and the porcelain room where all of the walls were lined with porcelain figurines representing scenes from the orient--this was also one of Charles III favorite rooms. When I arrived at the palace, there was no line to get in; when I left the tour, there was a very long line. Yesterday was the national holiday of Spain (Día de la Hispanidad) and many people obviously came to Aranjuez to enjoy the palace and gardens. The gardens were quite large and included trees from the new world, such as Magnolias from North America and palm trees from South America. I especially enjoyed seeing many Sycamore trees lining the walk along the Tagus river. I spent well over an hour in the gardens and definitely got some good walking in. I ate lunch at a nearby sidewalk cafe in the town before returning in the late afternoon to Madrid.

As you may remember from my trip in May, I had tried to see Susi, the daughter of the Señora that I lived with 32 years ago when I studied here but was unfortunately unable to connect. So abot a month ago, I wrote to her and included a photo of us from all those years ago. In the letter I gave her my phone number and asked her to contact me through WhatsApp which she did. And last night we met up in front of the old apartment, where she now lives, and went to have drinks and some food at a nearby outdoor cafe (there are thousands of them in Madrid, much like Paris). We talked for four hours and it was like the old days when we all used to sit around the table after lunch for what they call la sobremesa (after table), a time for conversation. I was able to learn more about her mother and her condition. She is in a nursing home and just turned 100 years old. Her mind is fine but she has macular degeneration, poor hearing, and can no longer walk having broken both of her hips during a fall a few years ago. Susi and I talked a lot about the civil war and what her mother went through. I was able to fill in many of the gaps in the story of her mother that I always wondered about. The Señora, Ana, did not like to talk about the war or the dictatorship and whenever we asked questions, she would answer but would become so upset that I was afraid to ask more. I have never seen that kind of pain and anger in another person. 

According to Susi, Ana was about 14 when the war started and 17 when it ended. She lost friends, saw dead people in the streets after numerous bombings, and faced great uncertainty when her father was imprisoned after the war for being a socialist, even though he hadn't killed anyone or even been in the fighting--he was an accountant at a bank. I knew he had been imprisoned, but I didn't know why. According to Susi, he was tricked into turning himself in when the francoists announced that if you hadn't killed anyone, you could go to the police station and receive a light sentence instead of death. This he did and was sentenced to 30 years in prison, although he was released after 10 because he was sick. I have read about the francoist jails: they were overcrowded, and the prisoners were often tortured and starved. I can't imagine what that was like for her. Susi also told me that for her mom, the post war period was much worse than the war itself. According to Susi, there was almost no food in the cities. The francoist government distributed to each person each week one egg, one loaf of bread, and one cup of oil (or something like that). Her mom remembers being so hungry that she frequently fainted. The post war period and repression went on throught most of the 40s. No wonder Ana never liked to talk about it. These stories made me cry. A lot of other things suddenly made sense, such as why she would get angry if we didn't eat everything on our plate (which I often didn't do, being a very picky eater at the time). But we didn't just talk about war. We also talked about our families current events in Spain, life, etc. It was a delightful evening and the best part of the trip. In fact, the whole trip was worth it just for that. 

Susi wanted to try to arrange for me to see Ana today, but it did not work out due to the demands of Susi's work and the rules of the nursing home which require that I be accompanied by a family member. I am disappointed but also confident that I did all that I could. Susi showed me some videos of Ana and I am going to record one for her to show her when she sees her this Sunday. Susi also promised to stay in touch and let me know if anything happens to her mom. I assured Susi that she and I would see each other again as I intend to visit Spain more in the coming years.

I have not done much today as I am exhausted from all the walking in the cemetery two days ago and the palace gardens yesterday (I am out of shape). This morning I rode a city bus up the Castellana, a large tree lined boulevard that connects the old and new parts of Madrid. For me, this is one of the most beautiful streets in the world as it is broad and lined with trees and cafes, and has monuments at several intersections. The neighborhood where I once lived is just off this street by the Santiago Benabeu stadium, the home of the Real Madrid soccer team. I came back by way of Metro and ate a calamari sandwhich and patatas bravas (fried potato wedges with a slightly spicy sauce) at a cafe in the Plaza Mayor. I walked around a tiny bit afteward but have been resting in my hotel most of the afternoon. Tomorrow, I have a morning tour of the Brunete battle aread west of Madrid and I want to be well rested for it.

Hasta luego!

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo

Madrid, Tuesday, Ocober 11, 2022.

Greetings once again from Madrid. 

Today I spent most of the day walking around the enormous Cementerio de la Almudena. The cemetery lies on the eastern side of Madrid and is one of the largest in Europe. There are an estimated 5 million people buried there which is larger than the population of Madrid. I am pretty sure I walked at least 5 miles today as I visited numerous graves of famous Spaniards, most of them involved in the Civil War. I found the graves using Google Maps which had them marked online. I wouldn't have been able to find them all without it. Love technology. Anyway, the most moving spot for me was a spot along the western wall of the cemetery where there were several memorials to people shot during Franco's post war repression. One of these involved picutres hanging from string against a wall where at least 3000 were shot during the repression. Each picture was laminated and had a QR code that I could scan with my phone and then read about their life. I did this for several. I also tried to say as many of the names outloud as I could because if I'm ever shot against a wall I hope someone will remember my name. Adjacent to this was the memorial to las Trece Rosas (13 roses), 13 very young (some teenagers) members of the socialist youth who were executed against this wall shortly after the fall of Madrid. I stayed in this area of the cemetery for sometime. While there, I noticed a flowere stall just outside so I walked over to it and bought some carnations to leave by the wall. There were many flowers and other makeshift memorial. I also saw numerous graves of Franco's fellow conspirators. other leaders of the Republic, Spanish singers Lola Flores and Cecilia, and Dolores Ibarurri, la Pasionaria, wartime leader of the Communist Party of Spain and fanastic orator who fled in 1939 for exile in the Soviet Union and then returned to Spain in 1978 and took up her same seat in the Congress of Deputies, representing Asturias as she had before the war. She died the year before I studied here. At the time, I had never heard of her. You can see a short clip of one of her speeches here. I actually listened to that on my phone while I stood there. Fortunately, there was no one around in this part of the cemetery which is set apart for all non-catholics, mainly atheists and protestants; the small adjacent Jewish cemetery was closed.

After about three or four hours of walking (and I forgot to put on the sunscreen that I brought), I took the Metro back into the central part of the city and ate lunch at a sidewalk cafe in Madrid's gay neighborhood, Chueca. About 30 minutes after sitting down, I was afraid I would fall asleep. I hadn't walked that much in a while as my exercise routine is still out of whack since the pandemic (what that really means is I haven't been very good about exercising lately; I know; I know). Fortunately, I didn't fall asleep and had a lovely slow late lunch while I read the Economist and watched the crowds walking by. I got back to my hotel with enough time to rest before meeting up with my friend Almudena Cros who had given me a tour of Civil War sites in Madrid back in May and arranged my visit to the Jarama Battlefield. Since tourism has picked up, she has been very busy but we were able to spend about an hour togehter catching up. I would have loved to have had more time but I am also happy that her work is going so well. We will see each other again I am sure and we text all the time on WhatsApp.

And that's basically it for today. I am exhausted and going to bed early. I am really enjoying seeing some of the not so familiar parts of Madrid that I heard about when I lived here but never visited, such as the cemetery. More to come. Hasta luego!

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo

Back in Madrid, Monday, October 10, 2022

Well, it didn't take me near as long to come back to Madrid this time as it's only been 6 months (compared to 32 years when I returned this past May). I decided to come back because there was more I wanted to see and I have saved up vacation time and money from not travling for two years. I've now spent three days here and decided to write a little bit about what I've done so far. I do this mainly for my family and friends that used to read the emails I would send back from my travles (a tradition started by my cousin Will). Just saying this because I don't mean to brag or boast. I hope whoever reads this enjoys it and gets something out of it.

I arrived in Madrd this past Saturday morning, exhausted from a flight that was just bumpy enough to make sleeping on the plane even harder than it already is. I checked into my hotel (my room was ready!), found a place for a quick breakfast, and then took a three hour nap. When I got up I headed to El Barrio de las Letras (the literary quarter) where many Spanish writers once lived, such as Cervantes and Lope de Vega. I saw the spot where Cervantes once lived and where he died although the building is not the same. I also was able to see the patio in the Lope de Vega house, but the rest of the house was by appointment only. Oh well. I found a tapas bar and enjoyed a slice of Tortilla Española (Spanish potato omelette) and a local IPA (I was suprised that IPAs even existed here) before heading to the Thyssen Bornemisza art museum. This is the massive private collection of Baron Thyssen Bornemisza that after it toured the world for much of the 80s, he decided to sell most of his collection to the Spanish government (775 paintings for $350 million) in 1992, after I lived here as a student. I enjoyed the museum but not as much as El Prado, and after a while I got tired of seeing paintings of Mary and Jesus. The Thyssen has paintings from many epochs, from medieval to Renaissance to modern. I enjoyed the modern most of all. There was a painting by Richard Estes of telephone booths in NYC that my brother used to have a poster of in his bedroom when we were kids. He had seen the painting on a middle school field trip to NYC when the Thyssen collection was there on tour. He no longer has the poster so I bought him another one in the gift shop. One interesting  thing about the museum is that they had a very large collection of art from the United States. In fact, that was what I saw first which was a little strange having just arrived in Spain from the US. Later that night I went back to the Casa de Champiñones (houst of mushrooms) for dinner. Deliciosa!

Yesterday, after breakfast, I took a commuter bus to the Palace of El Pardo which is to the north of Madrid and was built in the 15th century as a hunting lodge for the king. It was later expanded under the Bourbons in the 18th century into the palace that it is today. From 1939 until 1975, the palace was occupied by dictator Francisco Franco as his official residence. Today it is used as a guest house for visiting heads of state (sort of like Blair House in Washington, DC but bigger and outside of the city). Almost all of the rooms we saw were decorated with tapistries, many based on paintings by Goya, from Belgium and Spain. The only rooms we saw that had anything to do with him were his cabinet room and his office. The office is still set up as it was when he was dictator. As I looked at the desk I wondered to myself how many death warrants he had signed from that desk; certainly thousands. Thinking about that gave me the heebeejeebees. I was very tempted to spit at the desk but somehow resisted. The entire tour was in Spanish and I was able to understand almost everything. It was a beautiful day and afterward I walked around a bit and had lunch at a nearby cafe. In the gift shop of the palace I had bought a book of photos of the Civil War and a couple of post cards. I forgot them when I left the cafe and didn't remember until I was on the bust back to the city and did not feel like getting off, waiting for a bus to go back, etc. Oh well. At least it was only a small book and post cards. I'm sure I can find that book elsewhere.

After resting at my hotel, I headed for the Malasaña neighborhood where I went on a pre-arranged Tapas walking tour. There were six of us on the tour plus a guide who was from Madrid. We all got a long great as we wandered the neighborhood, learned a bit about its history, and went to four Tapas bars. We were all from the states and got along really well. It was a delightful evening and I enjoyd seeing this neighborhood that was the center of La Movida Madrileña in the 1980s but that I had never been too (why?!) when I lived here in 1990 and didn't go out (I know; I know). The Movida was a virtual explosion of culture, art, and, yes, partying that resulted from the death of Franco and the transition to democracy when most Madrileños had their first taste of freedom. I had no idea when I lived here that I was living through the end of such an important time in the history of Madrid and of Spain. But I really appreciate it now. The films of Pedro Almodovar from this time period, such as Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, What Have I Done to Deserve This?, and Tie Me Up Tie Me Down are examples of the artistic expression that flourished during this time. If you haven't seen these, you should at least see Women on theVerge... his best film in my opinion and the colors and the technology (or lack thereof) remind me of my time here.

Today I spent most of the day with my former art history teacher Marisa Marina Lopez. In the morning, I met the students from Furman University who are here now doing the same program (at la Universidad de Nebrija) that I did 32 years ago. Afterward, I walked over to the Parque del Oeste (Western Park) to see the gun fortifications from the Civil War. There were three of them in a row at the top of a ridge with no historical marker or notations of any kind. If you didn't know there had been a war, you wouldn't know whey they were there. While looking at them, two older women came by talking about them and so I asked if they knew if they were fortifications of the Spanish Republic or of the Franquistas and they said they were the latter. We talked for a few minutes in Spanish about the war and about Madrid. They complimented my on my Spanish which I appreciated. I met Marisa back at the school at 1:30 and we walked to a neaby tapas bar. After an hour or so, we went to another where we sat outside, ate and drank, and talked for about 5 hours! All of this in Spanish. I'm pretty comfortable with my Spanish but it is not easy and it is not natural for me like English so when Marisa complimented me it really meant a lot. We talked about our families, the Civil War, Spanish politics, food, movies, etc. It was a wonderful afternoon and I'm so grateful to have reconnected after all this time. Well that's it for now. Thank you for sharing this experience with me. Hasta luego. (Please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors).

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo

Madrid Photos

 Here are some photos of my trip to Madrid. You don't have to be a member of Facbook to view them. 

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10229247980689965&type=3 

Friday: Last Day in Madrid

Buenos dias,

I'm back home now and other than not being allowed to bring Iberian Ham back into the states, I had a wonderful vacation. The best I've ever had as a solo traveler. Friday morning, I had to get a COVID test in order to re-enter the US. Before leaving for Spain, I had found a place in the Goya neighborhood near the Retiro Park where I could get a test for about $35 so I went there first thing in the morning after I got up and had breakfast. I took the Metro there and then had to walk a few blocks, took a number, and waited about 5 minutes. As I waited, I started to wonder if I would need my passport which I hadn't brough (kept it in the hotel safe most of the time). Sure enough, yes, I needed it. So I had to schlep back to the hotel, get the passport, and return to the clinic, wasting about an hour. Oh well. Finally got the test, everyone was very nice, and I waited for my results in the Retiro Park, sitting on a bench, watching people, and drinking a Lemon Fanta soda (not available in the US). Then picked up my negative test results (yay) and went back to the hotel to drop off my passport and the results and then decided to go to the Prado.

I could have walked to the Prado or taken the Metro to get closer, but all the sightseeing and walking was starting to catch up with me so I took a taxi instead. The line at the museum looked long but I only waited about 20 minutes. During the wait I chatted with a couple from Florence, Italy who were in town for the Madrid Open, having tickets to today's (Sunday) final. We talked about Nadal and Alcaraz and about how we don't like Djokovic. The Prado Museum is one of the world's greatests with works by many artists, but with substantial collections by El Greco, Velazquez, and Goya. It was about 1pm when I entered and I knew I had to be at the Liria Palace for a tour at 4pm and eat lunch in between so I knew I couldn't stay long. During foreign study, we went there about 5 times with our art history teach Marisa (the same one I saw on Tuesday) so I knew what I wanted to see: I made a beeline to Velazquez room where his masterpiece Las Meninas (the ladies in waiting) is displayed along with several other paintings of the Spanish Hapsburg Royal Family. Las Meninas was my favorite of all the paintings we saw at the Prado 30 years ago and it still is. The painting displays several people doting on King Philip IV's daughter the Infanta Margaret Theresa, including two ladies in waiting, a dwarf, a dog, a nun, and a few others. Velalzquez also painted himself in the painting. I stayed looking at it for about 15 minutes and took a picture, before finding out you cannot take pictures of anything in the museum. Oh well. After that, I explored the El Grecos and Goyas. Goya's painting of Charles IV's family is also one of my favorites as each person in the painting has a distinct facial expression showing off their personality. I stayed at the museum for about an hour and a half. At this point, all the walking was getting to me and I was exhausted. In one room, I even sat down on a bench but stood back up when I realized I would fall asleep if I stayed seated. Good problem to have I guess.

After buying postcards of various paintings, I walked back to the my hotel looking for a place for a quick bite to eat. I ended up buying a bocadillo de jamon (ham baquette) and ate it quickly back in my room at the hotel where I was also able to rest a bit and watch some tennis. Finally, it was time to go to the Liria Palace which was just a short Metro ride away. The palace is the home of the Duke of Alba, one of the most important artistocratic families in Spain. The dukedom has existed for over 500 years and the family is far wealthier than the Spanish Royal Family. The current Duke is Carlos Fitz-James Stuart y Martinez de Irujo, the son of the more well known previous Duchess of Alba Cayetana, an eccentric who often appeared in the tabloids, not only in Spain but the US as well, especially when she married for the third time in her 80s to a man 25 years younger. Through various marriages, etc., the family is descended from both Spanish, English, and Scottish royalty. Anyway, the palace has only recently been opened for tours. They let in about 20 people every 15 minutes on a very controlled tour. Most of the tour was by audio guide but we were led around by a docent who pointed out the things being mentioned on the audio. He also made sure we kept on moving. The first thing we were told was not to talk pictures, not to touch anything, not to sit down anywhere, and not to ask questions until the tour was over. I have never in my life seen so much wealth in a private home. The whole time, I was afraid I would break something and be bankrupted. As I mentioned on Facebook there were a number of paintings by Rubens, Velazquez, and Goya, priceless treasures like a 2000 year old statue of Venus, Columbus's log book from his journey to the Americas, a second edition of Don Quixote, and the death warrant for Mary Queen of Scots, signed by her cousin Elizabeth I. There is no way you could put a price on their collection. After the tour, I bought some souvenirs in the gift shop and then went back to my hotel room to pack a bit.

Sometimes when I travel, on my last night I like to return to a restaurant that I had particiularly enjoyed so this time I went back to the Meson de Champiniones (house of mushrooms) where we had stopped on my tapas tour my first day in Madrid. I had the mushrooms again and ham croquettes, along with a Mahou beer and a Tinto de Verano (an easy San Gria made from red wine and lemon soda, a very popular summer beverage in Madrid). I was seated in a different room this time, but still with a cave like feeling, next to some United pilots with whom I chatted. There was also a man playing the keyboard and at various times everyone in the room sang along, especially when he played Mama Mia by ABBA. A lovely last meal in Spain. Afterwards, I bought some souvenirs and returned to my hotel to turn in. Saturday mornning, I flew home.

Some final thoughts before I close. Spain has come a long way in 30 years. I couldn't believe how modern it was and how clean. It has also become much more popular with tourists which there weren't so many of in 1990 (although that could be because I was there in the fall). Along with their wealth has come a more conservative Madrid government and some homelessness which I hadn't seen before, although it's not nearly as bad as Atlanta. When I lived in Madrid in 1990 it was like going back in time: they were still using rotary phones in some places, fashions were different than in the US, and there were subway cars dating from the 1920s. Now fashions seem like anywhere else (probably due to the internet and increased globalization), the subway is modernized, and the suburbs have exploded. Overall, it was good to see that Spain had come so far, but I also missed a little the way it was in 1990, only 15 years after Franco's death, when Spain was finally coming alive with culture, art, music, etc. But I guess you can't go back in time, can you?

Thanks for joining me on this journey. I intend to return and am determined not to wait so long this time.  

Hasta luego!

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo

Wednesday and Thursday in Madrid: Chinchon, Tennis, Jarama, and Botin

Buenas tardes,

I have had a busy and exciting couple of days in Madrid. On Wednesay, I spent most of the day in Chinchon, a small town about 30 miles or so from Madrid. Although not connected to the train, it was easy and cheap to get to by commuter, bus passing through olive groves on the way. Chinchon is a popular day trip from Madrid for tourists and Spaniards, especially on the weekends. Fortunately, I was there in the middle of the week and had it all almost completely to myself. After having second breakfast (more Iberian ham!) at a cafe on the Plaza Mayor, I got a map at the tourist office, and started to explore. I stopped first at the Ethnographic Museum which had a lot of artifacts of Chinchon from various time periods, donated by local residents. They had tapestries, clothes, lots of horse riding equipment, tax receipts, pictures, etc. It was quite enjoyable. After that, I really just walked around. Chinchon has lots of narrow old streets and is quite hilly. I got some great shots from the little park in front of the Church of Our Lady of Assumption. The church has an altar painting by Goya, but I didn't get to see it because it was closed. I also saw the nearby clock tower which used to be part of a church but the church has long been gone. This gives rise to the saying, "Chinchon tiene una torre sin iglesia, y una iglesia sin torre" (Chinchon has a tower without a church and a church without a tower). I had a nice quiet lunch at a cafe near a former convent that is now a hotel. Afterward, I walked to the ruins of the Castle of Chinchon which is almost completely surrounded by a fence as it is private property. However, there was a space between two posts that didn't have fencing and so I walked through and was able to see it more up close and walk on the bridge over the dry moat. Despite not being able to go inside, it was worth it for the views of the Jarama Valley and the skyline of Madrid off in the distance. And that was it for my trip to Chinchon. I picked up the bus and came back to Madrid, where I spent several hours just resting and cooling off. The sun has been unrelenting. Although it's only been in the low 70s, it has felt like an oven at times. And it doesn't seem to matter at all that it's a very dry heat.  Can't imagine being here in July. There is AC at my hotel but it's just so so. The Europeans just don't do AC like we Americans.

While I cooled off, I watched a little bit of the Rafa Nadal tennis match on the TV. This was as close as I got to seeing him in Madrid. But I did have a ticket to the night session (8pm) at the Madrid Open. The tennis tournament takes place this time every year in the Caja Magica (magic box) tennis venue on the south side of Madrid. This is the nicest sports facility that I have ever seen. It was practically sparkling it was so clean and modern (the concourses were carpeted!). It was hard to believe I was still in Spain because there was nothing like this when I lived here 30 years ago. My ticket was for the main stadium and I got to see American Jessica Pegula play Spainard Sorribes Tormo and the Greek Stefanos Tsitsipas play the Frenchman Lucas Pouille. Ironically, I had seen Pouille before at the US Open in an amazing match where he beat Nadal. He wasn't playing near as well last night. Tsitsipas won the first set and I was so tired and it was so late, that I decided to leave and go to bed, knowing I had an early morning today. But I am glad I went and got to see some tennis on clay in a foreign country. And as nice as the stadium was, I do have a few critiques: You could not take any food into the stands (probably why it is so clean), there were no water fountains (I realize they're a rarity in Europe), and when you bought bottled water they kept the lid, preventing you from refilling it in the bathroom. No me gusta. Another strange thing was that despite having to go through a gate and get your ticket scanned to get into the larger facilty, every time you left the stadium to do anything, you had to have it scanned and then rescanned when you went back in; I have no idea why. Nevertheless, it was a nice evening and I'm glad I got to see such an amazing facility. Spain has certainly become wealthier in the last 30 years, for better or worse (I don't remember seeing homeless people here before, for example).

Today, I met Almudena "Almu" (who had given me my tour this past Monday), an expert on the Battle of Jarama, Severino "Seve" Montero, and guide in training, Carlos, at 9am near the Atoche train station and we drove out to the "valley" of the Jarama river to explore about 10 sites related to the battle that took place there in Februrary 1937 (I say valley because it's really more like a large plane surrounding the river with hills in various spots; an enormous area of many sqare miles). During the Civil War, many foreign volunteers came to Spain to fight on the side of the Republic, including many from the United States. These groups were known as the International Brigades and one of the battalioins within the brigades was the Abraham Lincoln Battalion. Most of the tour today was about and in honor of the International Brigades. Seve is an expert about the brigades and the battle. He knew dates when troops arrived, where they were stationed, the names of those who died, etc. We spent most of the morning speaking Spanish. I understood almost everything and when I didn't I asked Almu to translate. We stopped in numerous places, hills covered with weeds, olive groves (many that I had passed the day before), almond orchards, a small town, and a cemetery. Everywhere we saw evidence of the war: machine gun nests, lots and lots of trenches, discarded shells, and many monuments. It was a fascinating day. At one point, we stopped at a memorial that Almu and her husband had made to the Abraham Lincoln Battalion near an olive grove where a lot of fighting had happened, some of at very close range. I asked for a moment to just look and reflect which they were happy to give me. I found it very moving to think of so many Americans giving their lives for a cause they believed in in a country that wasn't theirs. Many of the volunteers who made it back to the US were later black listed during the red scare and couldn't find work. So they sacrificed a lot. Many African Americans volunteered in the brigades where they were treated like any other soldier and completely integrated into the battalion. At the end of the tour, we stopped in the town of Morata de Tajuna where we stopped for a beer and then went to the local cemetery to see a monument over a mass grave. The monument was put there during the socialist premiership of Felipe Gonzalez in the 1990s at the insistence of Edward Heath (former Conservative British PM) of all people. As we were reading the inscription, a man came by with flowers that he was going to put on another grave and he told us that he and his father (the local grave digger) had built the monument. He told us all about how the grave had been moved from one part of the cemetery to the spot where the monument is now, how they built it, the trees they planted in memory, etc. An amazing coincidence and I loved hearing his story. It was a great way to cap off what had been a fascinating tour. Seve dropped us all off near the train station once again, and I took Almu to get a drink and had a light lunch, before returning to my hotel to rest and write.

Thirty two years ago when one of our professors took us on a tour of Hapsburg Madrid (most of the historic center), we passed a restaurant called Sobrino de Botin. We were told that Hemingway at eaten there, that it was the oldest restaurant in the world (according to the Guiness Book of World Records), that the painter Goya once worked there, and that it was one of the best, if not the best, in Madrid. At the time I didn't even think of going there because I didn't have much money as a student. Well, I finally got to eat there tonight and it was worth the wait. The restaurant has been in continuous existence since 1725 and their specialty is roast suckling pig (20 weeks old, I think). I was seated in the basement room which was more like a cave and ordered the house menu which consited of garlic soup, 1/4 roast suckling pig with potatoes, dessert, half a bottle of wine, water, and bread. It was wonderful. However, eating a quarter pig on the bone with a knife and fork was a bit of a chore and I resisted the urge to pick it up and eat it with my fingers. Part way through my meal I had a lovely conversation with a couple next to me who was from Argentina but who now live in Weston, Florida near Fort Lauderdale. I took a picture of them and promised to send it to their email address and to keep in touch. That is the kind of experience that I never have when I'm traveling with another person; one of the benefits of solo travel. And when I eat by myself I always take something to read so I don't feel awkward.

Anyway, after dinner I decided I needed a walk so I walked down to the Cibeles Fountain in front of the Palacio de Comuncaciones and took some pictures. This is one of my favorite spots in Madrid and just stood and stared at it for a while. It is normally surrounded by Spanish flags but for now they are flying the flags of Spain and Ukraine. After taking several photos, I walked up the Gran Via and back to my hotel to finish this entry and go to bed. I am not setting an alarm tomorrow and have no firm plans other than to get a COVID test so that I can get back into the US on Saturday. I am having a wonderful time!

Good night.

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo

Third day in Madrid: Memory Lane

 Buenas noches,

I spent most of today walking down memory lane. After breakfast, I took the 150 bus from the center of Madrid to the area around the Santiago Bernabeu soccer stadium, the home of Real Madrid. I say the bus number only because the number and the route are the same as they were 32 years ago which I find fascinating. MARTA buses change routes all the time in Atlanta. Anyway, I enjoyed the drive up the Paseo de la Castellana, a wide tree lined boulevard that connects the central city to the neighborhoods and, eventually the suburbs, to the north. There are fountains and/or statues at almost every intersection and much of it was very familiar to me. The neighborhood where I lived is called El Viso in the Chamartin district of Madrid. A lot of El Viso consists of detached houses, but there are also a lot of apartment buildings along the edge of the neighborhood close to la Castellana. This is where I lived: Calle Santiago Bernabeu 2-6-izquierda. As in number 2, sixth floor, left apartment. Anyway, during my time in Madrid I lived with a widow and her son and a friend of mine from Furman. We referred to her affectionately as la Senora (I don't know how to do the tilde sign over the n). Her name is Ana Cervantes. I tried to get ahold of her prior to my trip by various means (FB messages to her children, telephone, Google, obituaries, etc.) to no avail. Unfortunately, her name is very very common. Kind of like trying to find Anne Johnson in NYC. So I decided to just ring the bell for the apartment. There was no response but the porter saw me and let me in and we talked for about 10 minutes. He told me she is still alive, although very old (90 or so), and that she now lives in a nursing home but he didn't know where. Her daughter now lives in the apartment with her husband. I knew the daughter as well because she came to lunch almost every day. I left a message with the porter to give her with the name and number of my hotel and a note about who I was. I am hoping she remembers me because her mother and I traded Christmas cards for a number of years. 

Just being on the street and especially in the lobby of the building brought back many many good memories of my time in Madrid. However, the neighborhood has changed a bit. It was always one of the nicer neighborhoods, but didn't seem special or out of the ordinary to me at the time. According to the Internet, however, it is now the wealthiest neighborhood of Madrid. And it showed. For example, the 7-11 across the street is now a boutique spa. As I walked around, I saw numerous expensive looking clothing stores, expensive cars, and very well dressed people. In addition, the soccer stadium just around the corner is now twice as large as it once was and is being expanded again. The area around it was mess of cranes, constructions fences, and road blocks. Still, I enjoyed walking around and taking pictures. When I was done there, I took the same bus that I took as a student (the number 147) to get o the Chamberi neighborhood where the school I attended used to be. I took pictures of the building and then decided to sit in the nearby square and just look around. I recognized several of the buildings and the entrance to a parking garage, even though I hadn't thought of these in 30 years. I remember hanging out with friends in that park between classes when we'd get a snack from the bakery across the street. I remember the nearby secondary school that is still there. I remember a lot which is a blessing. It was a little emotional for me, because I had no idea then how important my time there would be in my life. But my time in Madrid opened my eyes to another culture, a different way of living, etc. I would not be who I am today without having had that experience.

After 15 or so minutes of nostalgia, I walked to the nearby former home of Spanish impresionist painter Joaquin Sorolla, who has become one my favorites. In fact, a print of one of his paintings hangs over my bed at home. Anyway, the home is now a museum showcasing his work. We went there several times when I was a student and I recognized a lot, especially the gardens and the main salon. So happy I got to go again. After about an hour there, I made my way to a nearby Metro station and traveled to the Moncloa district where the school, Centro de Estudios Hispanicos Antonio de Nebrija, is now located. The school still has a relationship with Furman University. There I met up with my former art history teacher Marisa Lopez. She was so happy to see me as was I to see her again. We spent the next four hours together, only speaking Spanish. First we went to a tavern for lunch where we had Iberian Ham (incredible!), fried eggplant, deep fried shark bites, and Mahou beer. Everything was delicious. We talked about the Civil War, about our familes, about her time a few years ago teaching at Furman, food, and many other things. At one point, when the waiter came to take our order, she told him we needed more time because we hadn't seen eachother in 30 years. Lol. After lunch, we walked over the Parque del Oeste (western park), around the rose garden, to the Plaza de Espana and the Cervantes monument. We took several selfies and talked about life things. How young I was. How innocent. How hard life can be some times. About loss and joy, history, art, music, language, etc. It was an absolute joy to spend the afternoon with her and when we parted I promised her that I wouldn't let another 30 years go by without visiting. Indeed, I have a feeling I will be back again and again. At least, I hope so. I walked back to the hotel which was not far and got a little emotional along the way, feeling enormously grateful for my time here and that I can still speak the language. What a gift that has been, even though I've never used it for work or made a dime off of this skill. It doesn't matter. If you have kids in school, encourage them to learn another language; it doesn't matter which one. They will never regret it.

Anyway, I didn't have much time after returning to the hotel, because I had a reservation for Flamenco and an early dinner (7pm!) at the Torres Bermejas next door to the hotel. The food was OK but the dancing was amazing. I had never been to a traditional Flamenco show, so this was a treat. Here is a video of the kind of dancing that I saw (fast forward to 12 minutes to see what I saw, more or less; I think every performance is different). I loved the music and the intense emotion in the faces and the dancing. It looked exhausting. But it was a great way to end what has been an emotional day. I hope I hear from the Senora's daughter, but if I don't, I know I did all I could to contact her. And I'm grateful to have spent much of the day with Marisa, another person who meant a lot to me.

I plan to turn in early tonight so that I can get up a little earlier tomorrow for a day trip to Chinchon, a nearby village. More on that later. Buenas noches.

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo.

First two days in Madrid

Buenas noches amigos!

Good evening. I have had two great days so far in Madrid. For those of you who don't know, I spent a smester in Madrid during the fall of my junior year at Furman University in 1990, one of the best experiences of my life. This is my first time back and it feels really good to be here, especially as an adult after having traveled a bit and being much more mature or at least I like to think so. I arrived yesterday around 8:30 and the first thing I did after leaving my bags at my hotel was to have Churros y Chocolate for breakfast, a Spanish tradition. I then walked around in the old quarter around the Plaza Mayor and the Rastro Sunday flea market, and made my way to the Almudena Cathedral. Compared to other Spanish cities, Madrid's cathedral was built late, beginning in the 19th century, pausing for the Civil War in the 1930s, and finally finished in 1992, after I left Madrid. I enjoyed seeing it for the first time and it was quite beautiful, but not as ornate as others I've seen. The cathedral is built on the edge of central Madrid next to the Royal Palace overlooking the Casa de Campo park (former hunting grounds of the monarchy) and is very close to the old Moorish walls of the city. I also went to the crypt downstairs which was a little spooky with numerous chapels for various families and the grave of Franco's daughter, Carmen Franco Polo. I asked the woman at the front desk if it was his daugher or granddaughter because I wasn't sure and then got an earful about "how awful it was that the government wouldn't let them move Franco's body to the crypt..." blah, blah, blah. I just tuned her out as I certainly didn't care to discuss it further. I made my way back to the hotel where I was finally able to check in and take a nap. At least I tried to take a nap, but it was unterupted by a May day parade complete with drums and slogans, passing along the Gran Via next to my hotel. But I did get some rest.

I eventually got up and looked for lunch. When I lived here before, my roommate and I often missed the USA and went to Burger King and MacDonald's all the time. Determined not to do that this time, I had tapas at a bar ("bar" in Spain means much more than what we think of as a bar in America; they are in general small restaurants where you can get almost anything at a low price) in the old city. I ate Tortilla Espanol (Spanish potato omelet; in Spain, "tortilla" means omelet) and croquetas de jamon (Ham croquettes) and drank a Mahou, the local beer. It was all delicious. Up until then, it felt a little surreal being in Madrid after what seemed like a short flight. But as I stood there at the bar (most bars in Spain are for standing), eating my tapas, drinking my Mahou, I looked around and watched the locals, and listened to them. The distinct Madrid accent and the gestures along with the food brought it all back for me and I realized in my heart that I was really back in Spain and felt wonderfully familiar.

Later at 6:30 I met up with a guide and 10 others for a history and tapas walking tour of Madrid put on by Devour Tours. For the next four hours, we explored several squares of old Madrid, learned a little history, and stopped at four different places for tapas and drinks. I am ashamed to say it, but I did not do much tapas hopping when I was in Madrid before (too busy eating at BK, etc. LOL) so this was indeed a treat. I tried vermouth for the first time, which in Spain is a sweet version drunk as an appertif before dinner, and tinto de verano, sort of fast sangria made with red wine and club soda or sometimes lemon soda. Both were delicious. I also had red wine. For the tapas, my favorite were mushrooms cooked in olive oil, and topped with a piece of chorizo. The mushrooms had the stems removed, were upside down, and held some of the olive oil in this natural "bowl." They came with two toothpicks so that you could pick it up and put it in your moth without spilling any of the oil. They were the best mushrooms I've ever had. So much flavor! Later, I also tried, for the first time, anchoves soaked in vinegar, sweat bread (pig thalumus), and pig's ear. Too my surpirse, the pig's ear was my least favorite of the three (too much cartelage and fat) and the sweat bread was my favorite. Tasted like beef but softer. Who knew? I would not have touched it 30 years ago. During the tour, we passed by a bar with a sign that said in English "this is Madrid; don't ask me for Paella." Although in the US, we associate paella with Spain, Spain is actually very regional, and paella is more of a specialty on the coast, especially in Valencia. You can get it in Madrid, but there's a good chance it was frozen and heated up in a microwave. No thanks. After the tour, I returned to my hotel and crashed, exhauted but satisfied.

Today, after breakfast, I went to the Queen Sofia (mother of the current King, Felipe VI) Art Museum (Museo de Arte National Reina Sofia) which did not exist when I was here before. The museum houses the national collection of art from 1881 onward and contains mainly modern art such as Picasso, Dali, Miro, etc. The "star" of the museum, is Picasso's masterpiece Guernica which was housed elsewhere when I was in Madrid as a student (it was once at the MOMA in NYC but returned to Spain after Franco's death in the 1970s). It is the cover phot on my Facebook page and was painted in memory of the victims of the bombing of the small town of Guernica by the German Condor Legion during the civil war of the 1930s. I spent about 20 minutes looking at it and thinking about the horror of war that it portrays. How sad that the same thing is happening today in Ukraine. I also admired other works of his and spent about an hour and a half in the museum.

After that, I grabbed a quick ham sandwich (bocadillo de jamon and not the plain ham we have in the USA, but cured ham similar to prosciutto) and then met my guide for the afternoon, Almudena Cros, in the Puerta del Sol for my walking tour of Civil War sites in Madrid. Almudena is a history professor for Suffolk University (online programs) and is an activist for the historical memory of the civil war. Her parents were both active in the fighting on the side of the Republic. I will not go into details about the war, as that would take days or months, or even years. But if you want to read about the basics, you can go to Wikipedia. Madrid was the last city to fall to Franco and the Nationalists. The front line of the war very quickly came very close to Madrid. Just a mile or two from the central city in the Casa de Campo park which is a giant public park that used to be the hunting ground for the kings. At various times, the line came closer and was pushed back. The International Brigades, volunteers from around the world who came to Spain to fight for the republic, were instrumental in the defense of Madrid. The woman I lived with when I did foreign study did not speak much of the war, but she did tell us about seeing bombs go off in the street, friends being killed, and her father being in prison after the war. People in Madrid back then did not like to talk about the war or Franco. She did some but she would alwasy get very upset and so I learned not to ask too many questions. Unfortunately, we didn't learn much in school either and what I have learned I have researched on my own since my studies here. The tour today was something I had dreamed about for a long time. I love history! It is my passion and the civil war is fascinating. We went to several sites in central Madrid where bombs had exploded, etc. She had over 100 pictures and maps that we looked at. Unfortunately, one could easily come to Madrid and never know that any type of war had take place here or that it was a crucial spot during the war. There are no historical markers, no memorials (except for the winners, for the most part), and many just want to forget about it. Almudena is an activist who is fighting to keeep the memory alive. 

After touring the central part of the city, we walked to some other sites and got a good vista overlooking the Casa de Campo, where she pointed out where the frontlines were. In doing that, we walked throught the Plaza de Espana where there is a giant monument to Cervantes, including statues of his famous characters Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. After exploring the area around the old Montana Barracks and the memorial to the nationalists who died there (no mention of the loyalists who also died), we took the Metro (Madrid's subway system) up to the University City the home of the giant Universidad Compultense de Madrid. Unlike the rest of the city, the campus is spread out like a park with buildings from the 30s designed in the Bauhaus style. In one area were two clusters of buildings, each maybe 50 or 100 yards apart where during six weeks, the nationalists had penetrated the republican defenses and both sides shot at each other in close range. We walked around the buildings and looked at the thousands of bullet holes, mortar holes, and places where cheap bricks (Spain was broke after the war) were used to fix the worst damage. Again, no historial markers, memorials, etc. to either side. The only monument is a small one to the International Brigades which took a lot of work to get erected. It is frequently vandalized. This was the end of the tour and after paying Almudena, I walked around a little more and saw a plaque she had told me about on the College of Pharmacy building where Franco basically took credit for opening the University even thought it had opened during the Republic. I also saw more bullet holes. The time went by so fast I couldn't believe it was after 7pm. I will see Almudena again on Thursday when she and I go with another historian to the Jarama battlefield about 10 miles east of Madrid. I look forward to that! Almu and I got along very well. She told me a lot about her family and their history, as well as her experience growing up in Madrid. She and I are the same age and so we also talked a lot about what it was like in the 1990s in Spain. Nice to have made a new friend.

After returning to my hotel via the Metro (twice as extensive and more modern than when I was here before), I walked around old Madrid until I found a nice restaurant that had Rabo de Toro (Oxtail stew) on the menu. I also had Gazpacho, red wine from La Rioja, and cheese cake. I really didn't need the cheese cake. While eating, I read the Spanish daily El Pais, something I did every day when I lived here. It was a lovely way to end a great day. I should mention that today is the Dos de Mayo, a holiday in Madrid that commemorates the popular uprising in 1808 against Napoleon that began the penninsular war (or Guerra de la Indpendencia in Spanish). I thought there would be more going on, but other than speeches in the main square that got rained out, it seemd to be a bit anticlimactic.

Tomorrow, I plan to explore my old neighborhood around the Santiago Bernabeu soccer stadium in the north of the city and meet one of my former teachers for lunch. Hasta luego.

Bill aka Carey aka (in 1990) Guillermo

(please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors; it's late and time for bed)