As my Delta Airlines flight touched down at the Madrid International Airport at 9.30am, I did not waste time exploiting the morning arrival by driving around the city of Madrid to take in some of the sites I had already penciled down hoping that other tourists will still be sleeping-in to crowd the popular tourist destinations. I was wrong on that score as a long line wound around the block to get into the famous Prado museum. Not discouraged as I had plenty of time during my stay to return to the museum, I went to see the Royal Palace in Madrid, which was oozing opulence in its majestic splendor and imposing presence. Its incandescent white color reflected the morning sun that made it look like an admirable garland of ornament that you could only approach with trepidation as you marvel at its size and beauty.
Despite its royalty, the palace sat in very easily accessible and clearly pedestrian looking outer ring of the downtown area. Not so different in location to our own 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. But of course its size was probably ten times the size of the US Whitehouse. Among the treats for the lucky tourist was the centuries old change of guard that they conduct till this day. It was as colorful as the ancient tunics the guards wore parading equally majestic horses that marched in stylized unison through the ceremony to our delight.
Basking in the excitement of so many structures that architecturally seemed so pleasing on the Avenidas of Madrid and taking in the majesty of the royal palace, I decided to see a public equivalent of such splendor. You know, where ordinary people would gather to unwind after a days work. I found that place in the Plaza Mayor of Madrid, essentially the main plaza of Madrid, or what you could call a town square. This was a huge tiled rectangular plaza the size of two football fields, surrounded by unbroken row of long buildings that formed the open space into a perfect rectangle, with a few statues of famous Spaniards standing atop high pedestals observing the ordinariness of activities on the plaza. Shops and drinking joints lined up the row of the long blocks of houses, with chairs arranged in the pit of the plaza for people to chitchat and enjoy the beverage of their choice.
It was a constant hum of activities, and tourists like me dashing around from one end to the other frantically snapping away at various images while taking smiley pictures with the backdrop of these centuries’ old buildings. Flamenco dances twirled and thrilled crowds in various corners, just as acrobats performed their tricks. Human statues posed on various pedestals so convincingly that you startle when they stir at your long gaze. I leaned so close to the statue of a soldier trying to figure out if it was a marble statue or flesh and blood replica. Sensing my confusion he snapped to attention with a spritely salute that I had to stagger back. We both shared that comic break in his routine that he invited me over for a picture with him, and I showed appreciation by tossing a few Euros in his collection cup. After repeating the same routine with a Fruit lady and a Matador statues, I was ready to see even more of the city of El Oso y el Madrono (the Bear and Strawberry Tree, the symbol of Madrid).
Madrid might have been walled like most Spanish cities in the past, as I saw a very ornate and well sculpted Gate of the city standing in a lonely posture looking into the lowland as though it was the eye of the city spotting whoever came calling before they fully approached the city. Its flanking walls if it had one had long gone.
Without argument, Madrid is a world-class city with a touch of the ancient and modern architectural styles typical of its age. Its wide avenues, and tree-lined streets are contrasted in the older parts by very narrow streets that can only handle one car traveling in the one direction at a time and often times will appear claustrophobic to a regular American driver. Imagine doing all your daily runs on roads as wide as back alleys in a typical American city. But this was just in the centuries-old parts of the city.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Madrid: Stepping into the heart of Spain
As my Delta Airlines flight touched down at the Madrid International Airport at 9.30am, I did not waste time exploiting the morning arrival by driving around the city of Madrid to take in some of the sites I had already penciled down hoping that other tourists will still be sleeping-in to crowd the popular tourist destinations. I was wrong on that score as a long line wound around the block to get into the famous Prado museum. Not discouraged as I had plenty of time during my stay to return to the museum, I went to see the Royal Palace in Madrid, which was oozing opulence in its majestic splendor and imposing presence. Its incandescent white color reflected the morning sun that made it look like an admirable garland of ornament that you could only approach with trepidation as you marvel at its size and beauty.
Despite its royalty, the palace sat in very easily accessible and clearly pedestrian looking outer ring of the downtown area. Not so different in location to our own 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. But of course its size was probably ten times the size of the US Whitehouse. Among the treats for the lucky tourist was the centuries old change of guard that they conduct till this day. It was as colorful as the ancient tunics the guards wore parading equally majestic horses that marched in stylized unison through the ceremony to our delight.
Basking in the excitement of so many structures that architecturally seemed so pleasing on the Avenidas of Madrid and taking in the majesty of the royal palace, I decided to see a public equivalent of such splendor. You know, where ordinary people would gather to unwind after a days work. I found that place in the Plaza Mayor of Madrid, essentially the main plaza of Madrid, or what you could call a town square. This was a huge tiled rectangular plaza the size of two football fields, surrounded by unbroken row of long buildings that formed the open space into a perfect rectangle, with a few statues of famous Spaniards standing atop high pedestals observing the ordinariness of activities on the plaza. Shops and drinking joints lined up the row of the long blocks of houses, with chairs arranged in the pit of the plaza for people to chitchat and enjoy the beverage of their choice.
It was a constant hum of activities, and tourists like me dashing around from one end to the other frantically snapping away at various images while taking smiley pictures with the backdrop of these centuries’ old buildings. Flamenco dances twirled and thrilled crowds in various corners, just as acrobats performed their tricks. Human statues posed on various pedestals so convincingly that you startle when they stir at your long gaze. I leaned so close to the statue of a soldier trying to figure out if it was a marble statue or flesh and blood replica. Sensing my confusion he snapped to attention with a spritely salute that I had to stagger back. We both shared that comic break in his routine that he invited me over for a picture with him, and I showed appreciation by tossing a few Euros in his collection cup. After repeating the same routine with a Fruit lady and a Matador statues, I was ready to see even more of the city of El Oso y el Madrono (the Bear and Strawberry Tree, the symbol of Madrid).
Madrid might have been walled like most Spanish cities in the past, as I saw a very ornate and well sculpted Gate of the city standing in a lonely posture looking into the lowland as though it was the eye of the city spotting whoever came calling before they fully approached the city. Its flanking walls if it had one had long gone.
Without argument, Madrid is a world-class city with a touch of the ancient and modern architectural styles typical of its age. Its wide avenues, and tree-lined streets are contrasted in the older parts by very narrow streets that can only handle one car traveling in the one direction at a time and often times will appear claustrophobic to a regular American driver. Imagine doing all your daily runs on roads as wide as back alleys in a typical American city. But this was just in the centuries-old parts of the city.
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Fantastic description! I once knew a woman whose husband was in the service. They were stationed in Spain and loved it so much that when he retired, they moved to Spain!
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