Madrid Day 4 (Spain: Part IV)

I awakened late, for me, on June 1. It was a beautiful sunny Thursday morning, our fourth day in España.

Lee Ann lay buried in the luxurious zillion count sheets of our king-sized bed. Well, it was actually two doubles pushed together with a bigger-than-king-size mattress pad. I spent some time at the little balcony enjoying the street sounds and watching folks across the tiny street awakening and opening their own balconies to the glory of their city. Stretching, breathing the air thousands of miles away from my native Tennessee. 

The balconies in Spanish cities are small affairs, perhaps 18 inches deep and a little wider than the doors and their windows. I don't recall who mentioned it first, it was likely our Pablo, but some structures have rounded bottom railings to accommodate the puffy dresses of the aristocracy. The other thing I learned is that if you look up, they recede every so slightly in from the street from the second floor to the top. This is to let in the light, as streets in the city centers, the oldest parts of the city, are very narrow. It was also interesting that the lower floors were the most prestigious, as they afforded more visibility on their balconies during pageants or  other events that brought city dwellers into the streets. This is particularly evident in the many squares peppering the city centers.

We took our time freshening up and enjoying the luxurious bathroom design, which featured a luxurious (there's that word again) bathtub with a shower encased in a glass chamber through which one could see the opulent bathroom. 

Bathroom bliss at Palacio de los Duques Gran Melia in Madrid

We had nowhere we had to be until 7:45, when we would meet up with Beltran in the lobby for a tapas hop around the city. So our second breakfast it was, and we took it in a different room, which bordered a lovely inner courtyard garden which later would be filled with conference attendees in socializing mode. This morning we couldn't help but notice that the crisply uniformed servers all very pretty women, wore their hair in uniform tight buns; and all of them, to a one, carried an air reminiscent of the pretties in the classic Robert Palmer "Addicted to Love" video. This would be magnified when what looked like outside talent hostesses appeared when the Fortune 500 conference moved in that night, and those women, uniformly tall and brunette, all wore tight black uniforms and deep red lipstick. That song was in my head for the rest of the week, until it was erased by the beauty of San Sebastian. WARNING: Don't click the link in that title or it will be in yours all day.

Back up at the room, we made a plan for the day. We had purposely made this day a "day of leisure" to explore on our own and get a nap after an early snack dinner to shake off our jet lag and prep for our tapas adventure. It was in the low 80s and sunny, and explore we did. Pablo had told us that though the marketplace in the Old City was inarguably historic and interesting, there was one in another part of the city that the nannies and mothers shopped which was worth exploring for its lush wares, so we took a cab to Mercado de la Paz, walked around there, marveling at the fresh food, and then walked back to to hotel through the park, where a huge book fair was taking place, with hundreds of publisher stalls and hundreds of people. All the books were, of course, en Español. 

From Mercado de la Paz. Beautiful stuff.

"once a fish"

At the hotel, down we went for another little nap after playing the only games of Bananagrams we would play on the trip. I, of course, lost every game.

Up from our nap, we dressed, got presentable, and headed downstairs to meet our guide for our next scheduled event, "Evening Tapas Tasting with a Local Insider." Beltran Caruncho is another charming human--gracious, well spoken, and knowledgeable to a tee. He took us to four places for four very different dining experiences. He had planned to pass through the open market but decided to pass since we had already been through it on our own. That would allow us more time at the other destinations. They were: 1) Sala De Espiece, 2) XXXXXXXX  3) Restaurante La Castela, and 3) Taberna & Media.

Briefly now, Scotty me boyo, briefly:

Beltran, our guide par excellence!

Sala De Despiece was so brilliantly alive that if it had not been for Beltran we may have been completely overwhelmed. He described the restaurant, the clientele (apparently completely local excepting ourselves ) as we drank our beverages and could not stop smiling. We sipped a class of wine or two while we were pampered as celebrities down at the far interior by a tapas creation station. It all shows in the Google album I made just of the Beltran tapas hop because we had a great deal of pic and some interesting video from that night. 

Our second tasting was at the vibrant hot spot El Doble. It was casual, bustling, bright, loud, and jovial, and the garlic butter sauteed shrimp was to die for. Beltran told us that locals called the torn fresh bread we called (in Tennessee parlance) a "soppy," a "Spanish submarine." Hilarious, and omg delicious. Here's a good time for you to open that google album, if you have not thus far. You'll see that shrimp I mentioned and hear the din yourself! FUN. 

Lee Ann opined that the owner looked a little grumpy, and Beltran agreed, adding that he only smiles when posing for pictures with customers/admirers. I'm not sure because I see he smiles a bit in the video and he was immensely gracious when asked for a pic. Here's that admirers food groupies photo with us and Jesus! :)

Big smiles at El Doble

From there we walked to Restaurante La Castela, Beltran telling us about the Michelle Obama visit in 2016. She wanted local tapas and refused to allow Security to clear the place out for her visit. She wanted to dine with the people and feel that oh so comfy vibe that the place is famous for. There are pics from our dining there, and a couple good videos, at the Google album of the Beltran tapas hop, but here's one memorable snap behind the bar just before we departed. I recall we had oxtail for the first time; but, for sure, not the last!

The crew at La Castela!

We closed our night out around midnight, at the bar at another popular tapas foodery nearby. Amazingly, it was full at midnight. Not amazing to Beltran, since a portion of the culinary-loving Madrid population is just midway through their own tapas hops around that time. I honestly have no memory of what we ate there. We may have just had a cocktail, a night-hat, a closer. There was a full restaurant, cozy as can be, around the corner from the bar, but we sat at the bar and debriefed with our new best friend Beltran. It had been lovely. 

We parted ways, grabbed a cab back to the land of the giant Velasqueses, maybe watched some of The Diplomat on Lee Ann's laptop (an aside: most of the hotels we stayed in had clunky interfaces for streaming media on the room displays. Be sure to have several electrical convertors if you venture to Spain (and a you-friendly laptop for media). We snuggled together and slipped into dreamland.

Tomorrow we would be Leaving on a Jet Train. JK, but listen, just for fun. No: we would be leaving on a high-speed train ride to Cordoba, then to Seville via automobile. Yes: another black Mercedes, another driver, two new guides, and another glorious couple of stops on that trip of our dreams.

Catch ya later.