Days 14 and 15 brought the journey from Seville back to Madrid by high-speed rail and into a final shift in tone, from Andalucía’s layered accumulation into the capital’s broader, more chaotic density, beginning with Puerta del Sol and Plaza Mayor where historic spaces now sit within constant tourist flow, enjoying Mercado San Miguel’s concentrated food halls (one of the few positives) and into Malasaña’s more lived-in streets before a subdued La Latina evening that never fully found its rhythm. Continued with a long walk past Plaza de Cibeles and Puerta de Alcalá into the quiet of Retiro Park, and an unhurried afternoon of wandering and cafés, ending in a candlelit cellar dinner and a rooftop view over the city, leaving Madrid as a place experienced in distinct moments rather than as a city that fully came together, especially in contrast to the depth and continuity found earlier in the journey.
Day 15: Madrid First Impressions
Renfe from Seville to Madrid: just under 3 hours, 471 kilometers, a sustained 300 km/h over the flat meseta, with arrival at Atocha station. High-speed rail in Spain is genuinely excellent and the correct way to make this journey. So a 9:30 departure put us in Madrid a little after noon. 30 minutes later we were checked into Woohoo Fortaleza. Funny name, but great location, excellent renovation of an older building, even though the place was very small.
So let’s give it a go.
We dropped our bags, and cutting through Puerta del Sol made a beeline for lunch. 20 minutes later we were inside a freshly renovated Mercado San Miguel (just reopened after a recent “facelift” that the original 1916 place clearly required), frantically trying to decide what to eat. And let me tell you, THAT is not an easy decision in such a place. Bocadillos of every kind, boquerones en vinagre (white anchovies marinated in white wine vinegar, far superior to the pickled version served elsewhere), tostas, jamón sliced to order, iberian meats and charcuterie, quesos, pintxos, gildas (the Basque pintxo of pickled guindilla pepper, anchovy, and olive on a toothpick, an entire philosophy compressed into a single bite), seafood and shellfish (oooh, that Galician style pulpo…), croquetas, tortillas, albóndigas, empanadas, paella, I even saw spanish-inspired dumplings! And for the sweet tooth, churros, turrón, spanish cheesecakes, flan, pastries and helados. Truly, a foodie’s paradise, albeit an expensive one! Despite my earlier comment about getting tired of tapas (please, God, forgive me for my sins) we just HAD to come back the next day for lunch as well!
Bellies full, the Madrid exploration ensued. The schedule was “lighter” with nothing booked, since we had already spent half of day 1 of our trip here (if you recall, the king didn’t know I was coming, so he decided to schedule some event on the days I originally planned to be in Madrid).
A block away from the mercado is Plaza Mayor. An expansive 17th-century enclosed square, formerly the site of bullfights, public executions, and the Inquisition's autos-da-fé (the ironies available to the Spanish Crown were rich). Today, a gathering place. Touristy. Overpriced. Take a pic or two and move on.
Just down the street, Puerta del Sol. "Kilometer Zero" from which all Spanish national roads are measured. Even busier. Equally touristy. Grab a pic of the bear statue and Tio Pepe sign, and keep walking.
Madrid was not cutting it for me. I should be candid here, before describing the last leg of our trip. And please, take the initial impression with a grain of sal. This is, after all, a travel blog, not a promotional document. The obligation to honesty is the same whether the subject is a disappointing Tangier tagine or a major European capital. After thirteen days in Andalucía, its warmth, friendly people, its layered history, its architectural beauty, its food, its particular quality of light on whitewashed walls, Madrid's city center registered as a jarring change of scenery. Loud. Tourist-dense. Lacking the specific soul of the south. Almost ‘artificial’, in a sense. I am aware that this is an unfair comparison, that Madrid reveals itself in neighborhoods and in time, rather than in a single afternoon at the Puerta del Sol. And - equally important - that a Barça supporter's experience of a Real Madrid city is colored by a bias I am not entirely concealing. The jury on Madrid remains, charitably, open.
Next, Malasaña: the bohemian neighborhood north of Gran Vía that incubated Madrid's Movida Madrileña (the cultural explosion of music, art, and social liberation that followed Franco's death) and remains more interesting, more locally inhabited, and more alive than the area around Puerta del Sol. If you have an afternoon in Madrid and don't know what to do with it, take the metro to Tribunal and walk. We killed some time exploring the nearby streets, then headed back to the hotel for a ‘siesta’. Were we already beginning to integrate into Spanish culture? Or was the frantic pace of the two-week trip taking its toll? I think it was more the latter…
For the evening, the plan was to do a tapas/bar crawl. Sunset at Debod Temple prior to it was a suggestion I read somewhere, but frankly, the last thing I wanted to see in Spain was an Egyptian monument. Even if it came with a nice view… So off we go. Metro to La Latina barrio. Calle de la Cava Baja is supposed to be where most bars/bodegas are lined up. And there were quite a few that popped up in my “homework”: 4 Tapas, Ministriles Cheap, La Concha, La Osita, La Cava, Casa Lucas, Tempranillo, Vermuteria Black Bolita, Lamiak, and Pez Tortilla. But with maybe one or two exceptions, they were all fairly empty. Blame it on a Tuesday. Or being too early (although it was close to 9 pm).
The other side of the Calle de Tintoreros was even more quiet. For a minute I even considered going to Botín, the self-proclaimed oldest restaurant in the world still running, and known for their roast suckling pig. But who wants to eat that heavy at 10 pm? I came looking for a tapas “crawl” and was further disappointed [in Madrid]. In the end, we settled for La Concha. One of the smallest tabernas (which is likely why it looked busy). Sat at a very narrow bar. Ordered a couple things I have not seen on other menus before (like lentils with duck confit and foie gras). Baby squid in its own ink. A huge portion, even though the menu said “tapa”. Couldn't finish it, even if I tried. The bar was busy. Loud. Seems like most people were drinking vermouth. I prefer sticking to white wine. Or a nice Rioja, if it pairs well.
On the way back to the metro, I tried really hard to justify stopping in one of the other bars for another drink. Most were empty already, barely a little after 11pm. So much for one of the most touted bar-lined streets in Madrid…
Meh…
Day 15: Prado, Reina Sofía, Retiro, Birthdays & The Confession
I am not an art museum person. History? Yes. Science? Of course. Art? Not so much! I say this without apology and with full awareness of what it means in context.
A visit to Madrid - they say - is not complete without a visit to del Prado, Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, or many of the other fine similar museums. For me, however, when time is of the essence, those tend to be the first to be de-prioritized. I just don’t have the patience to go through it room-by-room, when there might be only a handful of true pieces that spark my interest, among hundreds, or thousands that don’t. I would not want to browse through an entire museum (or pay for it for that matter) only to take a look at Guernica and walk out. No thank you. I’ve seen it in pictures. And even in an AI generated post that brought it to life. Now THAT was interesting.
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| Guernica - a Pablo Picasso masterpiece and anti-war poster |
I’ve been to Paris three times and have yet to set foot in the Louvre! I did, however, manage to visit Musée d’Orsay and found portions of it magnificent (perhaps because it’s not as big, and Impressionism speaks more directly to my particular aesthetic receptors). Same experience at the small Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam. Point is, to each their own.
For those who love art museums, the Prado and Reina Sofía are not optional. They are among the reasons to go to Madrid. Velázquez, Goya, El Greco, Bosch; Picasso, Dalí, Miró. Magnificently housed, expertly presented. Book in advance. Go early. Spend the whole day.
We walked.
Go on, call me an oaf. An incult. See if I care. I choose to enjoy my own experiences, and create my own memories, rather than be told what some art critic thought about a certain nuance of a brush stroke, or an item in a painting that may have had a specific symbolism in their opinion, when, in fact the artist may have not even thought about it one bit. Or perhaps was suddenly interrupted while said brush was touching the canvas!
Since I mentioned the Prado, Velázquez’s Las Meninas is a masterpiece. No doubt about it. But it is so because of the use of light, and perspective, and reflections, and shadows, and facial expressions. I get that. And I see that. But when some fancy critic spends hours on end spewing highfalutin language trying to convince me that the small vase in the middle of the painting is full of symbolisms and ties to colonial exploits, purposely placed there by the painter to insinuate that its red color is meant to represent the bloodshed that occurred in the New World expansion efforts, when in fact it is just a vase that the subject happened to carry at the time, I tend to lose it. Art to me is a visual and mental stimulant. Nothing more. Simple as that. Bottom line, I can appreciate art (don’t get me wrong) but in small doses, and on my own terms.
Boy, Madrid really put me in a shitty mood, didn’t it!?!
Let’s get out for some fresh air.
Heading towards Retiro, for said fresh air, we walked by Plaza de Cibeles and the City Hall. Impressive building. Rooftop access for a couple euros provides a decent panoramic view. We were going to do that on the way back, but ended up taking a different route.
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Puerta de Alcalá just down the street, the Neoclassical triumphal arch commissioned by Charles III in 1778 is imposing. That type of arch seems like a mandatory structure in any big city in Europe, symbolizing power, imperialism, victories in war, superiority, pride, etc. See Arc de Triomphe, Brandenburg Gate, Wellington Arch, even Arcul de Triumf, in Bucharest (although that one not really reflecting the same level of achievements as the other 3). But whether French, German, British or … Romanian, they are all modeled on Roman precedent; the Roman ones were modeled on the desire to walk through something impressive after winning a war. The tradition is ancient and it calls for an obligatory photo.
We enjoyed a nice morning walk in Retiro Park. A nice oasis in the middle of a bustling city. Quiet on a Wed morning. A few joggers. A handful of people rowing boats. I’m sure it gets much busier on the weekends, or over the summer months. Unfortunately, one of its highlights - the Crystal Palace, built in 1887 to house tropical plants from the Philippines, a Spanish colony at the time - is undergoing renovation and restoration efforts at least until 2027. The park itself was peaceful and lovely and exactly what was needed after eleven days of concentrated historical intensity.
If we had more time, would have strolled through the neighboring Botanical Gardens as well, but it was lunch time, and Mercado San Miguel was calling, despite a long list of other places I would have liked to try.
The long list: Erre Que Erre, PerretxiCo Narváez, Vinos de Bellota, (all in Retiro) Juana la Loca and Casa Dani (in Salamanca) Lambuzo and casa Julio (in Malasaña), and a whole slew around the Centre: Casa Alberto, La Pulpería De Victoria, La Casa del Abuelo, Labra, La Campaña (synonym with calamar bocadillos), Mesón del Champiñón, and Rosi La Loca (this last one we did visit, for a drink and the Instagram factor).
Then: Mercado San Miguel, again, unrepentantly, for a second standing lunch. I regret nothing.
Little else in the afternoon. Casa de la Moneda was a briefly-considered option (for the Casa del Papel factor) but it was too far. A Santiago Bernabeu visit was not considered (despite my wife’s inquiries, and despite my unbridled love for the sport) unless they offered it free of charge AND let me wear my Barça gear!
The afternoon passed in quiet window-shopping, café-sitting, and the kind of unhurried wandering that felt like a profound luxury after 14 days of structured momentum. Rosi La Loca was visited for a drink and its Instagram value. Somehow, the gravitational pull somehow got us to Chocolatería San Ginés, a historic Madrid café, famed since 1894 for its rich, thick hot chocolate and perfectly crisp churros. Touristy, but when in “Madrid”...
For the evening (and birthday dinner) I wanted to pick something special. The foodie in me was leaning towards Los Montes de Galicia. Partly due to rave reviews, and partly because it would have “opened the door” to my next Spanish destination: Galicia and the Basque country in northern Spain. The fancy-foodie in me (yes, that’s a separate designation, thank you) was looking at DSTAgE, Coque, or CEBO, but it just didn’t fit with the overall trip theme (read we had already spent too much over the last couple of weeks ;-)). So we ended up at Bodegas de las Secretos, mostly for the ambiance.
An unassuming door on a very unassuming side street, and a set of stairs that leads down to a former 16th century cellar that turned brick-lined candle-lit alcoves into intimate dining spots. The food was competent. The wine, excellent. The setting - quiet, candlelight, private - made the meal feel like an occasion regardless of anything else. Not a bad way to mark another trip around the sun.
Back to the hotel for a last packing before heading to the airport in the morning. But not before a last nightcap at Hotel Montera rooftop.
I was hoping to leave Madrid on a good note. Willing to give the city a shot at redemption. But, poetically, it was cold up there. And windy. The city glittered below, indifferent. So I rest my case.
Practical Notes: Days 14-15
Renfe from Seville: Departs from Santa Justa station; arrives at Atocha in Madrid. Book at www.renfe.com. Advance booking gives significantly better prices, and the difference between buying three days out versus the day before can be substantial.
Mercado San Miguel: Just off Plaza Mayor. Open daily, roughly 10am to midnight, busiest at lunch and evening. Eat standing at the stalls rather than sitting at the café tables. Touristy? Yes. Pricey? Yep. Worth it? Absolutely!
Malasaña: Metro to Tribunal (Line 10) or Bilbao (Lines 1 and 4). Start at Plaza del Dos de Mayo and walk from there. The neighborhood's best features reveal themselves by walking rather than targeting specific addresses. The independent shops, the murals, the particular atmosphere of a genuinely residential bohemian neighborhood.
La Latina tapas crawl: Metro to La Latina (Line 5). Calle de la Cava Baja is the main axis; explore the surrounding streets (Calle del Almendro, Calle de la Cava Alta) for further options.
Bodegas de los Secretos: Calle de San Pedro 12. Reserve several days in advance. Ask for a table in the deepest section of the cellar if you want maximum enclosure; the nearer rooms are still beautiful but less dramatically subterranean.
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