The Rain in Spain ... is Causing Gill some Pain! (Day 2)

[Gill H]

<<Day 1

It’s been a night of troubled sleep. We’re both coughing and sniffing so hard that lying down makes it worse, and my asthma has been kicked off too. Peter wakes me at 8am with the memorable phrase:
“Your wheezing sounds like an elf singing R&B.”

Sleep deprivation does funny things to people… He goes on to say he never thought wheezing could sound cute, but mine does. Awww, what a sweetie. I wish him happy birthday, although his cards and presents are still at home waiting for us. But tonight we will celebrate with the flamenco show – Ole!

As we get ready we watch a bit of CNN, which is talking about changes to US airline rules of what can/can’t be taken on board. Am I the only one that mentally tags news stories ‘Dibb-worthy’?

Flicking channels, I see that Spain is still watching that 1980s US comedy about the guy with a cousin from the Balkans … obviously somebody must still think it’s funny.

By 8.30 am we are ready for breakfast – although we needn’t have rushed, as it is served until 11am (Still getting used to Spanish time!) The breakfast room is as lavish as the rest of the hotel, and everything is beautifully laid out.

The hot options of sausage, bacon, eggs, potatoes and tortilla are kept warm in dishes. I head for the cold counter to try out the meats and cheeses. This is one of my favourite things about staying in European hotels - meats, cheeses and breads for breakfast! It’s always fun seeing the different options the various countries include.

As well as sliced ham, chorizo and cheddar-type cheese there is a ‘cheese cake’ which tastes like curd cheese. There are also bowls of fresh fruit, and platters of pastries, as well as cereals and yoghurts. The item which seems to be unique to Spain is an almond cake, which is nicely moist and very pleasant.

The self-serve coffee machine gives me a bit of a start – after I press the button there is a loud noise and a sudden cloud of steam! It all looks rather ‘Sorceror’s Apprentice’ but the coffee comes out fine.
Our fellow breakfast guests mostly seem to be Spanish today. One man over in the corner is the spitting image of Clement Freud (look him up if you’re too young to remember!).

[Gill H]

After a leisurely breakfast we decide to walk the other direction from yesterday, hoping to find the Palazio Reale or Royal Palace. We discover on the way that we are only a few minutes from two theatres, one of which is home to ‘El Rey Leon’ or the Lion King to you and me. The other has a Spanish musical called ‘40’ which seems to be about a nightclub.

We manage to find our way to the Palace just as the rain begins to turn from half-hearted spotting to seriously chucking it down. We dodge the rain (and the numerous umbrella-sellers) and manage to make it into the gift shop. From here we discover that it’s 10 Euros to visit the Palace, so we stump up, put all our belongings through the security scanner and into a hired locker, and are soon making our way around the various rooms. We start with the pharmacy, which is full of exotic jars of ingredients and scary-looking devices. Then we make our way round to the main entrance, but there is a large group of young people crowding the doorway, so we figure we will wait until they’ve gone in. We take some photos of the various buildings and the view (as best we can in the pouring rain) and then finally we head into the main building.

A view of the Cathedral from the courtyard.

It takes us at least an hour to go round, although we probably would have spent longer there if we hadn’t felt so rough. The rooms are seriously beautiful in that over-the-top ‘be impressed, visitors’ fashion you find in places like Versailles. The ceilings are painted with impressive frescoes, usually depicting some mythical being or other’s ‘apotheosis’ according to the signage. (We later look this up, to discover it means a ceremony declaring them a god. Hmmm, those royals – talk about subliminal advertising!) Even the plainer rooms, which would probably have originally been private rooms and are now used for displaying silver and paintings, are still lavish by modern standards. A really beautiful building.

We finish up in the café, which is very plain and modern, a bit of a culture shock after all the opulence. We have a coffee and what I assume is an empanada – a very small pasty filled with a tomato sauce. It’s … OK, I guess.

We ask a lady clearing tables if she knows where the Corral de la Moreria is, where we are going tonight. She doesn’t understand us, but goes to fetch another member of staff. He tries his best to explain, with flamboyant hand gestures and a torrent of rapid Spanish. We’re none the wiser but thank him anyway. And with that we have a quick look round the very nice gift shop, buy a couple of postcards and make our way out. (We resist the temptation to buy some cute pencil toppers which are obviously only for very important people...)

[Gill H]

According to our map, we are not far from the Corral de la Moreria anyway, so we decide to walk there and check out exactly where it is. The walk takes us across a viaduct shielded by heavy plastic barriers, which do nothing to protect us from the worsening rain and wind.

The restaurant is indeed very near, so having found it we cross the road and decide to head for the nearest bus stop. One of the problems we’re finding in Madrid is that the Metro stops seem few and far between, but fortunately our 3-day tickets are valid on buses too.

A notice at the bus stop confirms that several buses go to the Gran Via, so we jump on the first one to arrive. However, either we miss our stop or it doesn’t actually stop on the Gran Via itself, because after about 30 minutes or so we check our map to discover that we’re near Alonso Martinez Metro station – quite a bit further than we’d intended to go. Fortunately, however, it is only two stops on the Metro, so we head down there. As we make our short journey we’re entertained by a group of buskers playing Spanish folk music. They’re actually pretty good, although I’m sure they aren’t there legally!

We soon arrive at Gran Via Metro station and make the short walk back to the hotel - past an interesting window display...

Personally, I didn't think it was too bad...

Back in our room we change out of our sopping wet clothes and settle down for a rest – discovering in the process that Spanish TV has bought the celebrity diving show ‘Splash!’ and it looks even tackier than the British version.

At about 2pm we decide we’re hungry enough to pop out for a light lunch. See, we’re getting used to dining at Spanish hours now! We stroll back to one of the cafes we passed this morning – Don Jamon.

Yes, it’s another of the ubiquitous ham and cheese places, although much quieter than yesterday’s. I love the intricate tiles on the outside. The contrast with the garish photographs of the food is interesting - I'm having to reassess my view that any restaurant showing photos of the food outside is one to avoid...!

We decide to have a plate of Iberico ham and cured cheese with some bread, and a couple of soft drinks. It all tastes great, although it makes me appreciate the skill with which they slice the meat at Museo del Jamon. Here it is sliced much thicker and so it’s more chewy. Still tasty though. We were too busy eating it to take a photo, so here is a photo from the wall instead!

On our way back we call in at an ice cream shop for a cone each. It’s not actually raining at this point, and it isn’t cold, so it’s quite pleasurable to walk along with an ice cream. Peter has a ‘Jerez’ flavour (ie Sherry, which of course is a national drink in Spain). It has raisins in which do actually taste of sherry (although it’s probably not the real deal, any more than rum and raisin flavour is in Britain). I have a ‘Torron’ flavour. Torron is the almond and nougat sweet which is so popular in Spain, and this ice cream is certainly full of sweet, nutty goodness.

[Gill H]

Back at the hotel we head to the bar to claim our voucher for a free drink. We could have used this yesterday but didn’t feel up to it – plus, it’s rather nice to have it on Peter’s birthday. We ask for wine and are offered the inevitable Rioja, which is very good.

We then relax in our room again for a while. We’ve discovered the Kiss music video channel, and end up watching a very strange video in which a man and woman go skating. She gets a rope and ties herself to him, then shoots him and hits him with a shovel. It looks like ‘props week’ on Dancing on Ice has gone for a 50 Shades theme this year…

After a while we get changed into our evening outfits. Peter looks very smart in his suit, and I’m wearing black trousers and a nice new top.

We decide to walk to Plaza Mayor (Main Plaza) which we haven’t yet found, as this is not far from the restaurant. We go through Puerta del Sol again, calling in at a beautiful shop called Casa Diego to look at traditional fans. There are plenty available at all prices, from a few Euros to several hundred. We initially choose an inexpensive one for Peter’s mum, but the assistant warns us in rather shocked tones that these are plastic, and don’t we want a proper wooden one? Well, OK, let’s see what they have. We set a budget of about 50 Euros, but the clever salesman ends up persuading us to buy one for 60. Oh well, it is really beautiful and hopefully she will love it.

As we walk across Puerta del Sol, the rain starts again in earnest. We duck into a souvenir shop to get a cheap umbrella for Peter, as his coat doesn’t have a hood. Unfortunately the wind is strong, and he spends half the time stopping the umbrella from turning inside out.

We walk along the busy Calle Mayor for what seems like ages, and never manage to find the Plaza Mayor itself. Eventually we find ourselves going down a hill towards the viaduct the other side of the restaurant. It’s at this point that the evening takes a downward turn, quite literally. As we walk under some scaffolding, I fail to spot that someone has left sheets of cardboard out on the street and they are now completely waterlogged. I slip on one and go careering down the hill with one leg tucked under me in a very ungainly fashion.

A lady stops to see if I’m all right, and Peter helps me up. Apart from being a bit shaken, more soaked than ever, and my nice trousers now being covered with bits of wet cardboard, I don’t seem in too bad a state, although my knee is starting to throb. Perhaps I can claim it’s a flamenco-related injury, that sounds much more glamorous.

We stagger across the wet, windy viaduct again, while Peter gets further soaked by spray from a passing car, and I try to make myself look presentable as we reach the restaurant.

[Gill H]

We’re about 20 minutes early, but the staff are happy to welcome us and show us to a table. I had emailed to say it was Peter’s birthday and ask for a good table, but I’m not sure if all that message was understood, as we are sat well towards the back of the room. Still, the room itself is quite small and we should be able to see wherever we sit.

Although we are not the first in the restaurant, it’s very quiet at the moment. We know that the menu we have paid for is the ‘Menu de Moreria’ which is the cheapest set menu, but nevertheless it is still a pretty luxurious meal. To start the evening, a waiter brings us two individual bottles of sparkling wine, which he explains is a birthday treat for Peter. This is a lovely surprise and certainly helps to take my mind off my sore knee!

Next we are given two small glasses containing a cold carrot and pumpkin cream, which waken our appetites nicely.

Our wine arrives next – and yes, it’s Rioja again. The menu includes half a bottle each, but since we weren’t expecting the sparkling wine, we aren’t sure we will manage to finish it! We order some water to help pace ourselves through the evening.

[Gill H]

Our starters arrive soon afterwards. Mine is a very nice goat’s cheese salad with caramelized onion and a sweet wine coulis.

Peter’s is a warm cream of mushroom soup with shavings of foie gras and Iberico ham (there it is again). Mine is lovely, but Peter is seriously impressed with his dish. Very sophisticated and full of flavour.

My main course is a steamed fillet of salmon with cauliflower puree, asparagus and a compote of aubergine. Very delicate flavours and beautifully cooked.

Peter’s is an entrecote steak with Padron peppers and a potato gratin. He declares the steak one of the best he’s tasted.

By now the restaurant is filling up, and the table next to us is taken by a party from Eastern Europe. We offer to share our wine with them, as we are still not half way through the bottle and really don’t want any more! They are rather surprised, but happy to accept.

[Gill H]

And with that our dessert arrives – a ‘five chocolate dessert’ which includes a brownie-style cake, a milk chocolate mousse, with chocolate sauce, chocolate shavings and a chocolate curl. It’s very rich indeed, and we take our time enjoying it.

As we finish our meal the performers begin to arrive on stage. First come three men with guitars – evidently the three generations of flamenco guitarists, young, middle-aged and old! They play a few tunes to warm up the crowd, and are then joined by three men who move to the side of the stage, and begin to sing and clap as the three female dancers arrive. Two of them have the requisite ‘flamenco face’ – a fierce, steely stare. However, the third appears to have been told a joke by one of the men, and she can’t stop laughing throughout the first number.

The dancing is impressive, full of intricate steps and dramatic arm movements. The lead female dancer has a few solo dances, and it’s evident that she is a star performer. After a while everyone except the young guitarist leaves the stage. He plays a medley comprising every Spanish guitar melody you didn’t realise you can hum, and does so very well.

Then the male lead dancer arrives. It’s no exaggeration to say that he is one of the best dancers of any kind I have ever seen. Unlike some representations of Spanish dancing, there is no flashiness or glitz here – just passionate and powerful dancing. Wish we could bottle this and take it home!

There’s a short break during which we have a much-needed coffee. Peter has moved round to stand behind my chair so he can see, as the middle aisle is full of people sticking their heads out – and in some cases their cameras and tablets too. Grr!

The girls come back on, in new outfits, and perform a dance with fans. This is a fun and flirty dance, which is then contrasted by the lead female dancer’s solo – a much more serious number. We don’t know what the singer is singing about, but judging by the expression on the dancer’s face it’s a song of pain and anguish. She’s wearing an expression which is probably meant to convey ‘I’ve had a hard life bringing up 14 children by selling my body on the streets’, but may be more akin to ‘I hit the sangria last night, and that singer needs to buy stronger deodorant’. Who can tell? It was certainly impressive. It’s followed by a solo from the older guitarist, some more solos from the lead male and female dancers and a full company number.

[Gill H]

At this point, one of the dancers starts to make a little speech. Realising what’s happening, I get Peter to sit back down in his chair. The dancer is saying that there are ‘tres cumpleanos’ which I’ve already discovered means three birthdays, being celebrated tonight. And sure enough, the cast begins to sing a Spanish birthday song, and the waiters bring out a piece of chocolate cake with lit candles for Peter and the other two birthday celebrants. It’s at this point we really wish we had chosen the lemon sorbet dessert earlier, because the chocolate cake is lovely but very rich indeed!

After a few more dances the evening ends, and the cast take their richly deserved applause. I notice on my way to the ladies that the musicians have headed straight to the bar. As a musician myself, I can safely say that’s not an unusual occurrence! Besides, they have certainly earned it.

We ask to settle up our bill but are told that the coffee and water were included in the price we’d already paid, which is a nice surprise. As it’s still raining and my knee is really stiffening up, we ask about taxis, and are told there are plenty waiting outside. So we jump into the nearest one, and about 15 minutes later we’re back at our hotel, relaxing after a wonderful evening.

Adios, amigos – join us again for Day Tres.

>>Day 3

INDEX

[pennycrayon]

Brilliant day your meal looks fab, poor you and your knee, the type of thing I would do!

[DIBBadmin]

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