A new adventure starts and I decide it’s going to be a pauper’s trip. So Saturday finds me walking to Lee station as the drizzle turns serious. I board a train to London Bridge, a bus to Liverpool Street and then the Stansted Express to the airport.
None of the luxury of drive up and get an overnight with parking hotel deal. No priority lounge either but a rather good bacon sarnie in Perch. For once there is a shorter Priority queue at Ryanair and we board the plane a mere 30 minutes late. However they make up time with a tail wind and we arrive in Madrid at the scheduled time. On message, it’s take the 5 euro bus into town – no car rental or taxis this trip. Having spent the flight finishing Haruki Murakami’s latest book The City and its Uncertain Walls in which fictional and (f)actual worlds intersect, unicorns die in droves through the cold and people are separated from their shadows, I was relieved to observe people with shadows as I exited the terminal – not least because it meant the sun was shining brightly from a clear blue sky – a real joy after my damp and dismal start to the day.



Sadly the Express bus to Atocha Station called at all the other terminals first and was rammed by the time it got to International Arrivals. So I had some near-intimate encounters with a couple of lady passengers as the bus swerved lanes and managed roundabouts on its way into the city. But we got there and my hotel for one night only was close., I’m glad I’d seen the glories of Atocha before because the elegant structure is now clad in construction work hoardings. I check in to the Hotel Mediodia and quickly set off in quest of a beer and a snack. The cafe Argemosa proves an ideal spot and I’m even given a free tapa – an orange segment topped by some cod and balsamic vinegar and an apple slice with chorizo and migas – both very tasty and a good sign that outside tourist traps, tapas with a drink are still a thing.

This was a very local neighbourhood bar with a massive collection of bottle openers and a reminder that life in Madrid is a bit different.

The blackboard reads:
IN MADRID WE DINE FROM 10 OK.
Refreshed, I wander through trendy Lavapies and make my way slowly up to the centre thinking that Madrid was not as Christmassy as Barcelona had been a couple of years ago. But then I got to Puerto de Sol and saw this enormous tree and a green Santa, a Grinch and a Gruffalo all receiving tips from the passers by – cash not performance notes


Then I walked up to another square and came across – of course – a Christmas market. Then as it grew dark, I started noticing the stars suspended across several streets. I had an evening beer in Plaza Santa Ana – one of our favourite spots on a previous trip – no free tapas here. I had another in a bar earmarked for a longer return visit, La Descubierta, where my Estrella Galicia was served with a slice of bread topped with chorizo and manchego,
I then ventured into a well-stocked bookshop and was amazed to see these titles on display next to each other. Very woke acceptance of past history!

Then it was on to the main event of my overnight in Madrid – a session at the Jazz Cafe Bar Central. I wimped out and booked for the 20:00 gig rather than the 22:00 as my train for Granada leaves at 07:35 in the morning. I had booked the gig and dinner option from their website and as a lone diner was shoved away into a corner – not unreasonable really and the tapas style board was good and went down well with a Rioja I’d had before, Ontanon. The band was the Joshua Edelman Sextet – Edelman on piano with bass, drums and congas and a front line of trombone and flute. They played a lively set of originals and standards with a heavily Cuban feel. Which suited my neighbours well as the couple were born in Havana but had lived in Spain for 40 years. As also was a much younger couple at the next table. So immigrants get everywhere don’t they?



A 15 minute stroll down Calle de Atocha signposted me nicely back to the hotel just as Madrid was getting started for the night. Like my daughter kindly remarked a while back – I’m old. Night, night

