Madrid
Curious about why there are international travel posts on my American blog? Start here.
A single day in Madrid
and a strange one, at that. . .
I woke up to catch the sunrise on Playa del Postiguet before I left Alicante - of course, the first day I can finally get out of bed early it was completely overcast. I made my way to Atocha and caught the train to Madrid. The Spanish mountains and countryside were stunning and within three hours I was in the heart of Spain’s capital city. While I’d love to paint a story of travel perfection, I legitimately got lost coming out of the train station. I was supposed to transfer to the subway then walk 18 minutes to my Airbnb. Instead, I spent about an hour and a half going in all the wrong directions every step of the way. Needless to say, I was exhausted by the time I reached my destination at 11AM. However, I was only able to drop off my bag as it was too early to check in, so I had turn right back around and explore the city.
I don’t know if I’d been spoiled by the charm and peace of Alicante or if I was still frustrated from my inability to navigate Madrid, but I was unimpressed with the city. I walked a good four miles around the city and everywhere I went felt like a New York City borough, to include walking through their public garden (which felt like Central Park or Prospect Park) and spying a customer of mine from DC strolling through the same park!
As soon as I could, I went back to my room and devised a plan to treat the city the way it wanted to be treated. I got dinner at Five Guys, yes, the burger chain that got its start in my home state, and thus broke my cardinal rule about dining out in the most aggressive way possible. (Side note, the burger and fries are JUST as delicious and authentic as they are at home. With the exception of a veggie burger on the menu, Five Guys doesn’t pull the European-ifying menu tricks some other international chains do.) Then, I walked across the street to watch Black Panther. I was pleasantly surprised that the theater was nearly sold out and was looking forward to enjoying the film that had been filling my timelines for weeks. Welp, I misunderstood the movie details, it was not in English with Spanish subtitles, in was dubbed in Spanish with no subtitles. I decided it was Madrid’s final kick in my ribs but was not going to let the city win, so I powered through translating as best I could and reading lips where at all possible. (Don’t worry, I saw it again, in English, when I get home.)
“Wakanda por siempre!”
