Navigating Madrid

Getting to Madrid was definitely the easiest part of our first day in the Capital city - one stop high speed AVE train took us from Sevilla to Madrid in a lightening fast one and a half hours.  Pretty amazing.  I loved watching the Spanish country-side zooming past, and even though it lacked the lush greeness of the English countryside, it certainly exuded its own charm of olive groves and quietly grazing sheep. 

Getting my first glimpse of Madrid from the taxi, I finally understood just how much of a Big City it was - wide open streets, long rows of shops, congested traffic... I could almost believe that I was back in America if not for the ornately decorated buildings, random sculptures and massive squares.  It was a surprisingly welcoming sight, particularly to know that I wouldn't be afraid to go out by myself and get lost in a maze of dark and narrow little streets.

However, all that excitement completely evaporated when we got to the hotel.  It was a nightmare.  The lobby was strangely located on the second floor, and we had to cram ourselves and our luggage into a teeny elevator (no tipping also means no bell-boy to help with bags).  When the doors opened, the pungent, chemical smell of paint hit me in the face - the hotel was deep in the midst of renovations.  The entire mid-section of the hotel was blocked off with a plastic curtain and the place looked strangely bare with all the furnishings removed.  I immediately started to bristle with indignation - didn't these people know how toxic paint fumes can be?  But it would be too difficult to lug our stuff through the city to look for a new hotel just right now, so I thought we'd at least check in for the time being.

That was until we got up to our room and opened the door - it wasn't so much of a room as a broom cupboard.  Only one tiny twin bed squeezed next to a desk - it really was about the size of a college dorm room.  Urrrrghhh.... What kind of business are they running here? Asians aren't that thin for goodness sakes.  It was another hour before Marco managed to get us into another room, which was located on the top floor far away from the construction mess.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that it was a normal hotel room.

By the time we got out to explore the city, it was past 2 and all the tapas restaurants close at 4pm for a short siesta and to prepare for dinner.  I was anxious to get to Cava Baja, the gastronomic center of Madrid but we also wanted to stop by the San Sebastian Mercado first - it had the reputation of being one of the best foodie markets around.

 
As usual, good food totally lifted my mood.  I was amazed at the quality of food at the market - each stand specialized in different varieties of appetizer sized gourmet food.  Rows upon rows of tiny flat breads topped with brightly colored caviar, pink rolls of juicy salmon, piles of oysters, cooked shrimp of every size imaginable, trays and trays of differently pickled and stuffed olives, I was in foodie heaven.

People amassed in groups, all counter tops were filled with delicacies heaped high on small plates and wine glasses were squeezed into all nooks and crannies.  Marco and I only had so much time, and so much room in our stomachs, so we carefully circled the entire place to decide where we wanted to start first.  Or rather, Marco walked slowly while I was literally buzzing with eagerness and hunger -- all I wanted was to sink my teeth into something!!



We finally made our pick and everything was truly delicious.   I only wish we had more time to sample all the food there!  But the promise of another street filled with Madrid's tastiest Tapas bars spurred me on.  I hurried Marco to finish up and we quickly made our way towards that small street.  I had already been warned that it was notoriously hard to find, so it did not surprise me when we got lost.  I asked three people for directions - getting quite good at that by now in Spanish - the last of which told us that we were extremely close and that it was the third street on our left.

By then, it was already 3:45pm and I knew that we were running out of time and my belly was again growling.  It was so frustrating to walk up and down that street, hunting for Cava Baja, dreaming of all that good food while passing other cafes that were already looking like they were ready to close.  Finally, Marco and I settled on a different cafe and cut our losses.  On our way home, we were dismayed to find that one of the tiny side streets that we had ignored actually had the sign that we were straining to find.  This was totally my version of Murphy's Law - you only find the good restaurants when you are not hungry, and they somehow  always evaporate when you're actually trying to find them.