Monthly Archives: November 2009

Yesterday after my four-hour nap, I reconnected with my old friend Drew who now lives in Madrid. We used to study German together back at the University of Washington as well as in Germany. We had not seen each other in 10 years!

By coincidence Drew happened to have two tickets to a “jazz” concert last night at La Luna de Madrid which is a small funky bar on la Calle Monteleón – smoky, crowded and artsy. Drew’s partner César wasn’t interested in seeing the show, so I was invited along. Note: I usually have some hesitancy to participate in late-night activities – which stems from an irrational fear I have of staying up too late and being exhausted; however, in this particular case I was well rested. Also, there are times in life (like that one) when it is best to surrender to wu wei and allow the interesting life opportunities to sweep you along in their current.

I put “jazz” in quotations because that is what the “concert” was advertised as, but in fact it was more like a dramatic improvised musical performance by one very eccentric lady named Sandra, with mini stand-up performances by some of her friends in the audience. Sandra wore sequined pants and a butterfly mask with blinking lights. She carried a plastic halberd. At one point she threw a wooden snake on the ground and screamed about symbols of evil. At another point, a young handsome man resembling a 20-year old Johnny Depp stood at the microphone and read from discourse he had written on solitude and society. An older gentleman in a suit with wild white hair like Einstein delighted the crowd with an erotic poem. Both of these acts were accompanied by Sandra’s passionate embellishments on the electric keyboard.

After the concert, I enjoyed seeing Drew and César’s beautiful apartment and discussing a variety of topics, including gay saunas and religion.

Today was a magical Friday in Madrid. I had breakfast with Clinton and kissed him goodbye at the Metro, then made my way to the Plaza Mayor to join a bicycle tour of Madrid’s gardens and parks! The tour, led by Spanish guide José and his sidekick Mario, was fantastic. I was left feeling even more impressed with Madrid than ever before, and I learned a great deal of important history and fun facts about the city. Did you know that Madrid is one of the greenest cities in the world, having the most trees per capita, second only to Tokyo? I also loved learning about Galileo Galilei who, thanks to his mathematical calculations and drawings, helped sculptors give structural integrity to the statue of Felipe IV (four tons of bronze balanced on the back legs of Felipe’s horse!) which is located in the center of the beautiful Plaza de Oriente. It felt great to get exercise (Madrid is quite hilly) and meet some new people (my tour companions were three American college girls who are studying in Madrid). Halfway through the tour, we stopped at the lake at Casa de Campo (a huge 1700-hectare forest in center of Madrid) to have coffee, tapas and dessert.

After the bike tour, I hopped on the metro to the Biblioteca Nacional and saw two amazing exhibitions about literary culture and conservation. Some of my favorite things included the odd punched round sheet music for street organs and the entire room devoted to Don Quixote.

I had another very late lunch around 3 PM and might now read and take a nap until Clinton gets back from his conference. Until later…Ciao!

Clinton is speaking at his conference today at “El Madroño” near the Vicálvaro metro stop, so I went off on my own to have some solo adventures.

While waiting for the subway, I watched an argument between some metro police officers and what appeared to be two members of a Klezmer band. I couldn’t catch everything that was happening, but in essence the tall man with the very large stand-up bass and the funny hat was being scolded by the police. Other subway passengers got involved in the debate and seemed to be defending the band. There was a lot of dramatic gesturing toward the bass and the yelling of …instrumento….instrumento..!

It was a gray and drizzly day, and I thought it was especially romantic to be walking through the Jardines del Buen Retiro alone under my black umbrella thinking of my Sweetie.

The Thyssen Museum was as great as I had heard it would be. It’s a large public museum displaying one of the world’s finest private art collections. I spent several hours there today admiring the Dutch, French and Italian masters in the permanent collection. A fantastic temporary exhibit called Lágrimas de Eros (Tears of Eros) explored the relationship between eroticism and death.

At 2 PM I was famished (we’re so Spanish now with our late lunches and dinners!) so I wandered a bit up the narrow cobblestone streets near our hotel looking for a suitable establishment. I peeked in window after window until I found a taberna that looked inviting enough for me to sit and eat alone. I selected “La Fragua de Vulcano”, which means Forge of Vulcan, named after the famous work by Spanish painter Diego de Velazquez. These tabernas are very old and cave-like with walls of brick and Spanish tile. The tables and stools are simple, rough-hewn wood. I ordered the house specialty – shrimp cooked in Spanish olive oil and garlic, seasoned with sea salt and served with crusty homemade bread – and drank an ice-cold caña. I wondered if at that moment I was the only person in the world who wanted to weep with joy (and gratitude) over her delicious lunch…

By the way, Clinton and I found some great tapas last night at Cuevas El Secreto (The Secret Cave), a raucous taberna with friendly waiters. We discovered that Muslitos de Pollo are delectably seasoned, grilled chicken drumsticks which put USA’s hot wings to shame.

If I lived in Madrid, I would run in the big park every day so I could eat tapas every night.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

People in Spain love ham! Yesterday we ate ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch and somehow ended up eating ham and cheese croissants for breakfast. Madrid even has a chain of ham stores here called “Museo de Jamón” or Museum of Ham. Dried pork legs hang on the walls in all the delis.

Today we went on an organized group tour of the Holy City of Toledo. It was amazing to walk around a city built in 200 BC! I wish we could have spent more time in Toledo. My favorite part was seeing the El Greco masterpiece – The Burial of Count Orgaz.

On our walk back to Puerta del Sol from the Plaza Espagne, we ate mystery items at a beer and tapas joint. It was super fun to see what actually arrived at our table. I found out that I really like a dish called Fideuà. It’s like seafood paella, but it’s pasta instead of rice. We also found an amazing leather bag store called Salvatore Bacchallio or something similar. We wanted to buy everything in there but decided to leave and just think about it.

Then we found a theater showing the live musical Spamalot (Monty Python) in Spanish and impulsively bought two tickets in the theater’s best section for tonight’s show. And of course, I then had to go shopping for a hot Spanish outfit, so I will have something appropriate to wear tonight. I bought a crazy purple taffeta dress and ruffly sparkle vest to wear over my black jeans and boots, with gold jewelry. Clinton says I look like a Spanish punk princess. Sweet!

Spaniards also eat dinner SUPER late. Can you believe the restaurants all open for dinner starting at 9 PM?! That is past my bedtime back home, but when in Rome…. I’m going to pry my eyeballs open tonight so I can eat dinner after the show just like real Madrid-ians. Probably will need more espresso to make this happen.

We’ll let you know how the our late, late night goes. Hasta luego, amigos!

A 9-hour layover at London Heathrow yesterday meant I got to use a day room at the Heathrow Hilton to take a quick shower before heading out for adventures.  

My first London cab ride took me to the the little town of Windsor — normally about 40 minutes’ drive outside of London. I could barely understand the cab driver’s thick accent, but I managed to communicate that I wanted to get to Windsor Castle by 11 am to see the changing of the guard. He said he knew some “shortcuts” and promised to get me there on time. The little navy blue snub-nosed taxi raced across town and delivered me in Windsor in an impressive 25 minutes, just in time to run up to the castle and see the soldiers do their thing.

I couldn’t take the grin off my face standing there in the sunshine with all the other sightseers. My shoulders were aching from holding the camera at odd angles to shoot pictures over the heads of Russian tourists, and I was hungry, jetlagged and badly needed to pee, but I didn’t care: what happened next was too cool. The soldiers exited the castle gate and came toward us in two rows, marching stiffly with oddly fast clip, slapping their shiny black shoes down on the cobblestone in perfect unison to the drum and fife. They wore dark grey uniforms, white gloves and the classic puffy, tall black hats with the chin strap. They carried bayonets!

Don’t know whether it was the combination of sleep deprivation and fresh air or what, but everything in Windsor seemed delightful. I thoroughly enjoyed finally getting to use the “loo” at a cute bistro on Peascod St.  I also had a bowl of minestrone and some crusty bread there. (I ate lightly so as not to ruin my appetite for all the other awesome foods I wanted to try later!)

The weather was sunny but about 50 degrees, and I was (unfortunately) dressed for 90 degree African weather, so I had to purchase a thermal undershirt for better layering and some wool gloves. Window shopping at the High Street shops and visiting Marks & Spencer was a treat! I loved it that everyone called me “Madame”. The ultra thick, 1 pound British coins were a joy to hold and flip between my fingers.

I’m very envious of all the great walking paths I saw in the London suburbs I passed through. Seems like every town has a “Long Walk” or a “(Such-and-such) path” for pedestrians and cyclists that is both charming and lined with trees. The ones in Windsor were chock full of Englishpeople getting their daily exercise. I had trouble deciding whether to spend the next couple of hours on the “Long Walk” of Windsor – a 3-mile path to a statue of King George III on a hill - OR touring Windsor castle.

Ultimately I chose the castle tour, and this was truly a magical experience. The palace is enormous and breathtaking. I was completely in awe of its age. I think it is the oldest structure I’ve ever been in — over 900 years old!

My three favorite things were:

• The huge collection of armor and weaponry. Can you say CRAZY AWESOME HALBERDS?!?
• The doorknobs. I know this sounds silly, but the doorknobs and keyholes on these enormous old doors are amazing — many of the knobs themselves are in the shape of intricately carved, coiled up dragons!! I imagined maids and butlers keeping heavy, impressive palace keys of iron in their pockets and moving stealthily through the halls with mischevious intent. Also, there simply must be secret passageways within the castle walls. I started to imagine that I could discern subtle differences in the stonework behind the tapestries… I got so excited about all of this I spent much of the tour choking back the urge to half laugh/half cry out. Sheer thrill, I tell you.
• The best thing of all was learning about the Knights of the Garter. I had no idea!! Have you people heard of this?!?! I’m completely obsessed now. The Knights of the Garter are a chivalric order of the monarchy established in 1348 under King Edward III, but it continues today. Whoever is king is the “Sovereign of the Garter”. All kinds of ceremony and cool stuff goes along with being a Knight — you have to get sworn in and promise to uphold honor, you get your own coat of arms in St. George’s Hall (which one of the huge amazing rooms in the palace big enough to fly a small plane in), you attend feasts and ceremonies, you get to wear all sorts of special stuff like a velvet mantle (cloak) embroidered with the heraldic shield of St. George’s Cross, etc etc. I want to be a Lady of the Garter SO BAD.

A very nice castle steward told me more about the large old book in a glass case about which I had become enraptured. The book was written in Latin in 1358 (!!) and is called The Black Book of the Garter. It is complete with gorgeous handpainted illustrations and colorful versal letters. (Versal letters — also a new term I just learned!)

When the castle tour came to an end, I was famished. So my next stop was a really old Windsor shop which sold award-winning Cornish pasties. Hell yeah. I munched one as I walked down Church St., all the way to the old Two Brewers Pub. Here I downed a pint before jumping on a local bus back to the airport.

Needless to say, I was very sad to be leaving Windsor.

Jetlag overcame me on the bus and I fell asleep, later waking to find it raining. I leaned against the glass and watched a brown horse running across a field. At various points, packs of British teenagers wearing private school uniforms got on and off the bus. It was so fun to listen to their hilarious conversations - I felt as though I was in a Harry Potter movie!

We drove past a contractor’s repair van, and the following was painted in huge letters on its back door:

SERVICES OFFERED:

• Winches
• Squeeze-offs
• Butt-fusion
• Cats & Gennys

Maybe someone can look those up and tell me what they mean…?

Yesterday was a beautiful day with memories I wouldn’t trade for anything! Funny photos are coming at some point.

Jolly good! God Save the Queen! Good day, then!