When my friend Vanessa hit a bit of a snag with her visa and had to stay behind in London for a few hours, KC and I went ahead and embarked on our trip to Madrid, the second city on last year’s European holiday itinerary. Our friends saw us off at the tube station that will take us to the airport. I was fairly sure we had ample time before our flight but I was not prepared for the mayhem that was Stansted Airport. When we got there, the interminable queues made us question the odds of us making our flight. We managed to get through security but if we hadn’t ran my equivalent of a marathon, we were definitely only a split second away from not boarding the plane. It was only when I was finally seated and the adrenaline from the earlier rush wore off that I felt pain on my right knee. Lola vibes hit.
I enjoy taking public transport when I’m not in any particular rush going someplace. It is both cheap and immersing. So when KC and I reached Madrid, we took the bus to city centre and got off at Plaza de Cibeles. I stood in admiration at the palatial architecture that manifested in front of us. What I had first thought of as a gothic-style cathedral was apparently Madrid’s city hall, which until 2011 served as the city’s post office.
Coming from London, I immediately felt the more relaxed vibe of the Spanish capital. The heat of the afternoon sun permeating through my skin made me long for a siesta. But the novelty of being in a new city and the eagerness to see every nook and cranny jolted me awake. We walked to the direction of a nearby Starbucks where we had agreed to wait for my friend JM while he finished his work at the Bank of Spain. JM is a former classmate in UP whom I’ve kept in touch with all the years following graduation. He is an economist living in Madrid and had generously offered to host me and my friends while we explore the city for a few days. The last time I saw JM was a few years earlier in Hong Kong when he had an eight hour layover and I took him on a quick tour so I was naturally excited to see him again and catch up. It wasn’t long until he met us and took us to experience our first authentic taste of the capital – churros dipped in hot chocolate paired with half a pint of cold beer. I will never forget the look of astonishment on KC’s face at the realization that Madrileños drink alcohol early enough in the afternoon, or that the Spaniards really do tend to drink any time of the day. He tried to emulate the locals for the duration of the trip.
Because Vanessa’s flight was not arriving until late that evening, we decided to fill the void with a little more food and a tad more alcohol. I couldn’t think of a better way. The best thing about knowing someone living in the city you’re visiting is that the experience becomes somehow more localized. JM brought us to a cozy restaurant called La Pescaderia for dinner and Salmon Guru to cap off the evening with a few cocktails. Quick google search will show you that the bar is apparently ranked 19th on the World’s Best Bars list. I must say the bartenders did concoct some mean cocktails.
Meandering around the city mildly inebriated had me feeling gleeful and awestruck that even though I’m an outsider and the only Spanish I can speak are cómo estás, muchas gracias and la cuenta por favor (thanks predominantly to the telenovelas I watched growing up), Madrid made me feel welcome. Perhaps the reason it didn’t feel too foreign is that there are many Filipinos living in the city and I could hear murmurs of my mother tongue all around me. Or perhaps 300 years of Spanish colonial rule made me identify similar aspects of their culture to that of my homeland. JM said that majority of the Filipinos in Spain work in the food and beverage industry and it’s commonplace for Filipinos to ask curiously “Saang restaurant ka?” (Translated: Which restaurant do you work for?). It reminded me of a time in Hong Kong when I was asked “Stay-in ka ba?” when a lady wanted to find out if I live with my employer. Depending on where you are, Filipinos seem to have a stereotype.
We were left to our own devices the succeeding days because JM had to leave town for a business trip. We spent the time mostly sight-seeing whilst day drinking, an activity KC and I became particularly fond of. There was one instance where we drank beer in a cafe right outside of the Royal Palace like old drunks drinking ale in a nearby tavern back in the middle ages. I thought it was poetic.
With a measured pace, we sauntered around the city admiring centuries-old architecture. I was especially enamored by the rows of elegant apartment buildings and the elaborate design of balconies that adorned them. I thought that if one day I get a chance to live in Madrid, I’d reside in one of those.
While we had opted to go about sight-seeing in a leisurely manner, I still clocked an average of 20,000 steps a day on my tracker. Madrid is the kind of city you can walk anywhere and everywhere to. My only consolation was that at the end of every long walk, there was always good food waiting to nourish our tired bodies. We had the best Cuban at Borax and Mexican at La Lupita. But speaking on behalf of the group, I think one of our most notable dining experiences was the one at Sobrino de Botín, the world’s oldest restaurant. In his book Death in the Afternoon, Hemingway wrote “but, in the meantime, I would prefer to dine on suckling pig at Botín than sit and think about the accidents which my friends could suffer”. Well. My thoughts exactly.
My friend said there was not a lot to see in Madrid. I could say the same about many other places. But I think it’s not only always about ticking the boxes. I find the best way to enjoy any place is to just let the place reveal itself to you. Muchas gracias Madrid!
And for some behind the scene takes:
Adios! Oh there’s one more. 😊