Madrid, Spain
So, last night Erin and Charlotte dropped me off at the Frankfurt airport and I flew into sunny Madrid. Blessed, blessed, sunny Madrid. How fabulous to be warm again! Which brings me to an inescapable fact–it’s impossible to pack for multi-country journeys. Last year, I packed my Florida gear, knowing that Madrid’s weather would be reasonably comparable to Tampa’s, and I froze to death in Copenhagen and Amsterdam. This year, I pack “autumn” style, which means I’m cold in Germany and hot in Spain. *sigh*
Today, I spend most of the day working (seriously–I spent a good 10 hours glued to my laptop) although I did escape long enough to make two trips.
One was to Plaza Mayor, which was a little disappointing. Now that there’s a big focus on safety and law-abiding, there’s police patrolling everywhere, which means the “vendors” I had counted on encountering were nowhere to be found. Last year, as soon as the sun set, the stone streets leading to the plaza were crowded with vendors hawking their wares on small (1 meter x 1 meter) squares of cloth, around which looped a length of yarn. When the police would show up (once every hour or two), they’d yank on the yarn, which would close the square of fabric into a little bundle, trapping their merchandise inside. The vendors would then scamper off, a knapsack on their back (or whatever). The plaza was the best place to get things on the cheap, from knock-off designer goods to souvenirs for a euro. Now, however, the whole place was empty, which took away from the carnival-esque vibe I’d remembered, complete with street performers such as clowns on stilts and mimes.
In any case, I hadn’t come to the Plaza to buy postcards and painted fans. (Which is a good thing, since I would’ve had to buy them in one of the zillion actual *stores*, at retail price!) Nope, I was in the market for shoes.
That’s right–shoes.
Last year, while in Spain, I couldn’t help but notice that all the women wore the same general style of shoe. I thought they were cute–they reminded me of ballet shoes with straps, and came in a variety of styles, colors, and materials. I meant to buy some and never did (thanks to my anti-shopping mentality) so this time I plan to rectify that error. Also, Erin was interested in knowing what kind of shoe I was talking about (since that description really doesn’t do it justice) so I promised to email her some digital photos and ship her a pair if she saw something she liked. For your viewing enjoyment, I’m attaching a few of the shoe photos here… although I can’t bring back shoes for everyone! (And men in the crowd: I’m afraid these only come in ladies’ sizes. Sorry!)
The other stop was for food, when I went to Pans & Co (pan=bread, not pan like a skillet) where I got the Greek bocadillo, which is a sandwich made of tomatoes, slabs of thick, fresh cheese, and bread that reminds me in shape and consistency of French bread, except that it’s only about a foot long and not quite as big around. The whole thing cost about two fifty–a bargain!
Keeping with that theme, I want your food stories. If it was cheap, delicious, bizarre, surprising, whatever–I want to hear it. (Reminds me of the Simpson’s episode, when Gramps comes home looking like he took a swim through through a toxic waste dump. Marge says, “What happened to him??” and Homer shrugs and answers, “He fell down at the Big Boy.”)
