Even if you're not particularly an art person, it's worth checking out Madrid's museums because they're free (or at least during certain times; generally the last couple hours before closing). The cavernous galleries are the perfect escape from the scorching heat (except for the part where you have to stand outside in the sun; bring a bottle of water), and because the trifecta of art museums are all quite close to one another, well, there's no excuse not to hit up at least two of them. 

The Reina Sofia houses the modern art collection in a sleek building that is aesthetically pleasing but a practical pain in the ass. (I gave up trying to reach the top floor because I couldn't find an elevator that would take me and there was nary a staircase in sight). But it has the distinction of owning Picasso's Guernica, which is a must-see. Guernica is essentially the Mona Lisa of the Reina Sofia, but better because the painting is so large that you can still see it even when the gallery is packed with people. 

El Prado has all the hoity-toity classical stuff, if you're into that sort of thing.  I'm a fan of Goya, myself, but after endless wandering everything sort of started to look the same so I called it quits and left after about an hour. The real treasure, in my opinion, is the Thyssen, which as a former private collection has quite the eclectic mix of artists and styles - essentially a little bit from every major artistic movement from classic to modern with everything in between. 

Sangria on tap.

Sangria on tap.

Two of my friends told me I had to visit the Mercado San Miguel, which I did. Several times. Located right by Plaza Mayor, this vintage industrial building is a market in the same way that Chelsea Market in NYC or the Ferry Building in San Francisco are also "markets." By which I mean that they're less about fresh produce sold by the farmer/butcher/fisherman's family and more up on trendy artisanal pre-made or cooked-to-order dishes. It's not a bad thing, per se, but very bougie. 

Because touching the venus fly-trap is everyone's first instinct?

Because touching the venus fly-trap is everyone's first instinct?

El Rastro, just a couple streets over from where I stayed in La Latina, was a whole other experience. Every Sunday, it takes over the neighborhood and becomes a giant, sprawling open-air flea market. For the most part vendors are hawking standard items like clothing, jewelry, antiques, and artwork, but I did see a plant stall featuring venus fly-traps. 

Since I managed to refrain from spending much - or any, really - money at these places, I decided to reward myself on the last day with a tour of Real Madrid's stadium. But here the story takes a little tragic turn. Earlier in the afternoon I had dropped my camera while readjusting (wide angle lens are heavy, so I periodically switch which shoulder I have it slung over). It wasn't from a very great height, so at the time I just checked to make sure it could still turn on. (It did). But when I pulled it out later to take a picture of the soccer pitch from above, all I could see through the viewfinder were little broken bits of whatever it is that makes the camera body work. So...iPhone photos ahead. 

The tour leads you up, down, and all around the stadium with I suppose the major highlights being the trophy room (some serious metal in there; kinda reminded me of Hogwarts), sideline (you can sit where the players do during games) and changing room. 

Sports fans already know this but Real Madrid has an incredibly rich history and reputation. There's also seems to be a strong sense of national pride as almost all the players are Spanish (as compared to the English premiere league teams that are predominantly comprised of internationals). Definitely worth it if you're a football fan, and maybe even if you're not - I'm glad I went!

Posted
AuthorMisa Shikuma
Categoriestravel diary

Towards the end of my sophomore year in college I took a class exclusively dedicated to the works of Spanish film director Pedro Almodóvar. Twice a week we met over the course of the quarter: once to watch one of his films, and again to discuss it in the context of the assigned reading. Some of the texts were easier to digest than others; some were in English, some in Spanish; and some, despite repeated readings for other classes, I still never quite understood (Laura Mulvey's "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema," anyone?). But to this day, The Cinema of Pedro Almodóvar remains one of my favorite classes ever, and was a decisive factor when it came time to select a major. (Famously, I made a pros and con chart to choose between English, Film Studies, Anthropology and Environmental Science; in the end I went with anthro but minored in film).

I don't know if it's exactly fair to call Almodóvar my favorite director, but thanks to that course I have seen almost all of his films and quite like most of them. (There are other filmmakers that I greatly admire, but I don't feel that I've seen enough of their work to know whether the appreciation of their style exceeds the few examples that I am familiar with). Almodóvar's specialty is in creating stories that are endearingly kitschy and visually vibrant with characters that are real, though often not entirely realistic. Watching his films, which he writes himself, it often feels as though they take place in a parallel universe. Sexuality (and, inevitably, sex) is one of his most prevalent themes, and the director definitely has some, er, unique takes on it (see: Matador and La piel que habito). 

Thus far in his career Almodóvar has only worked in his home country, with a penchant for setting his films in the capital, incorporating well-known landmarks and places that played a role in his youth. Put simply, Almodóvar is to Madrid as Woody Allen is to New York. So between siestas, tapas, and hitting up all the requisite sites and monuments, I decided to track down some of the filming locations.

  1. Telefónico building. Gran Vía, 28. Visible from the rooftop of Pepa's (Carmen Maura) building in Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios (Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown). A nod to the director's past employment when he first came to Madrid.
  2. Plaza Mayor.  Where Ángel (Juan Echanove) dances one evening in La flor de mi secreto (Flower of My Secret).
  3. UGT office, formerly the Convent of Santa Maria Magdalena. Calle Hortaleza, 88. The convent where Entre Tinieblas (Dark Habits) takes place. 
  4. Círculo de Bellas Artes. Calle Alcalá, 42. Where Andrea (Victoria Abril) and Nicholas (Peter Coyote) can be spotted in Kika.
  5. Cine Doré. Calle de Santa Isabel, 3. Benigno (Javier Cámara) watches a film here, in Hable con ella (Talk to Her), on one of his free evenings, which influences him to do something very crucial in the story... 
  6. Calle Conde Duque. Tina (Maura) gets hosed down on this street in a memorable scene from La ley del deseo (Law of Desire). 
  7. Cementario de la Almudena. Liberto (Victor Plaza) visits this cemetery in Carne trémula (Live Flesh). Of course the more iconic resting place shot by Almodóvar would be the Cementario Montjuic that appears in Todo sobre mi madre  (All About My Mother), but that's in Barcelona and, naturally, I didn't think of it while I was there. Oops! 

As big a fan as I am, I'd be lying if I said I discovered and recognized these all on my own. So, credit goes to: Trip+,  I Need Spain, and Todo Almodóvar.

And in case you have thus far been deprived of his excellent films, I would recommend starting with Todo sobre mi madre, Volver, Hable con ella, Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios, and Abrazos rotos.  

 

Posted
AuthorMisa Shikuma

"Watch out - Madrid is really hot!"

So cautioned some fellow travelers I met in Valencia who were doing their tour of Spain in the opposite direction as I. (They were heading off to Barcelona next, whereas I had just come from there). Sure enough, when I disembarked my train at 5pm, it did feel warmer and vaguely sticky - no doubt because the city lacks that pleasant sea breeze. I pulled out my phone and opened the weather app. Mid-80s - not too bad. And then I realized it was still set to Valencia.

Changing the setting to Madrid, I was displeased to see daily highs of 100 and above for the rest of the week. I toyed with the idea of switching the temperature to celsius, finding double digits less offensive than triple digits, but in the end I knew there was nothing to be done other than embrace the fact that I would be sweaty and stinky for the next few days.

The expansive Plaza Mayor.

The expansive Plaza Mayor.

While trying to capture some nice shots of Plaza Mayor (tricky even with a wide-angle lens to give you some idea of the vastness) I unexpectedly  ran into a guy I had met on a walking tour in Valencia. Seeing as it was his last day in Madrid and he'd already been to all the sites he'd wanted to visit, he was game to tag along with me for the afternoon. First stop: Mamá Framboise.

Before I left Paris I encouraged my more well-traveled friends to give me tips on where to go. One, a chef, told me I must visit her former workplace - a whimsical French pâtisserie just a bit north of Gran Via towards Salamanca. For just 3€ each, I sampled a chocolate raspberry tart and my friend a chocolate eclair. Delicious. (Just to compare: one individual size cake at the pastry shop I interned at will set you back at least 6€). She had also given me the name of her chef, but unfortunately when I asked for him I was told he had recently left. Too bad - I would have loved to peak inside the kitchen.

I wanted to try everything.

I wanted to try everything.

Next stop: Santiago Bernabéu Stadium, better known as the home of Real Madrid. I'm generally apathetic when it comes to sports, but in the realm of soccer I do harbor some small appreciation for the players - well, a few of them anyways. (Google image search Cristiano Ronaldo and you'll see what I mean). Tours were a bit pricier than we felt compelled to pay, so instead we took some photos outside.

We got there just as a kids' soccer camp was heading in. Almost all of them were wearing Ronaldo jerseys.

We got there just as a kids' soccer camp was heading in. Almost all of them were wearing Ronaldo jerseys.

My friend had previously mentioned a museum for the blind so, with curiosity bolstered by the prospect of free admission, we set off to find it. The description in the provided literature stated that there were two main goals: to provide a tactile space where the blind could feel the art, and to promote the work of visually impaired artists. It's an admirable mission, no doubt, but in instances where the art is, say, framed behind glass I'm not sure how well it succeeds. Still, as far as museums go it's quite a unique concept.

Posted
AuthorMisa Shikuma