1) Having finished The Invention of Murder (summary: everyone dies eventually, but the way crime is detected and covered in British popular media cleared the path for Sherlock Holmes), I had to bring my guide to the royal palace down to the lobby for breakfast reading. Thank you, Oldest Nephew Who Must Not Be Tagged, for such an excellent Christmas gift!
2) Part of the route to the Prado from my hotel is through streets blazing with noonday sun, but near the Prado itself are some beautiful avenues of trees punctuated with fountains. It’s easy to see how the Madrileños would be drawn to them, to cluster in the shade!
3) The Prado has two entrances: on the side for the permanent collection, and in back, in the new building, for special exhibitions. That’s where I headed, for a look at the Prado’s first major retrospective of Luis Paret, an artist whose career was overshadowed by a) Goya, b) being attached to a prince banished from court for adultery (oops!), and c) a comparatively early death. The show was fabulous, and called to my mind the work of Longhi in Venice, Watteau (Paret was called “The Spanish Watteau” in his lifetime, and I can see why), and even Audubon. I wish photos had been allowed.
3a) In the first gallery, viewing the paintings, I became very aware of the squeaking of the guard’s shoes as she strode about on the wood floors. Remember Hudson chastising Frederick on Upstairs, Downstairs the night the French ambassador came to dinner? Something like “Nothing can ruin a dinner party more than . . . squeaky shoes!” And as I continued through the gallery, I could hear it more and more, including my shoes squeaking on the floor. I almost had an Edgar Allen Poe "“Telltale Heart” moment!
3b) Mother would have loved the painting of the Virgin Mary coming to visit Elizabeth, but I was drawn to its unique companion piece, The Annunciation to Zacharias, which is not often depicted.
4) Then upstairs to the cloisters (claustro in Spanish), all that remains of I’ve already forgotten which religious order, now carefully reassembled and housing a small but magnificent set of sculptures of Charles V, Philip II, and various family members including Mary of Hungary. She did not look particularly happy to be there, but the space soars and is flooded with light.
5) The shop — I always have high hopes for museum shops, and they sometimes disappoint with a lack of postcards of images I want but can’t photograph, or here, English language books. But I got their Guide to the Prado, which must weigh five pounds, and began it over lunch in their swish restaurant.
6) This ends up ranking as my fancy meal in Madrid: some sort of quail business, beef cheeks bourguignon with whipped potatoes, and a luscious salted chocolate mousse, and espresso. I was impressed by the flawlessly pressed handkerchief linen placemat and napkin. Austere elegance.
7) By this time it was almost 4 PM, and I deliberately took a somewhat different route to see more of the city. Passing through a plaza with a few al fresco restaurants, walking slowly to keep from generating much body heat, I suddenly heard one clap. Looking up, to my left I saw a restaurant manager walking briskly and gesticulating toward the center of the plaza. Looking right, I saw his object: a panhandler (identifiable by his paper cup) who must have been working the tables. I didn’t linger to see who won.
8) I continued through the Puerto del Sol, which is mostly a construction zone right now. But I got to see a couple workmen installing a pavement of granite cubes, and I was very impressed not only with their workmanship, but the big pile of blocks behind them, and then the enormous canvas bags full of more blocks still to be unpacked!
9) A couple friends recommended the department store El Corte Inglés for clothes shopping, and at last I found the one with menswear and picked up some needful things.
10) In the evening I lingered on the hotel rooftop with a gin and tonic and The Guide to the Prado, preparing for tomorrow afternoon’s delights. All of a sudden, tomorrow is my last full day in Madrid! It has flown by, and even having seen the Palacio di Liria, the royal palace, El Escorial (my favorite), and the Museo Sorolla, I feel like I haven’t done enough. After all, I may never pass this way again . . .
11) Tomorrow, I want to explore the enormous park here (near the Prado), buy some espadrilles, and of course gorge on the Prado’s permanent collection. And I must do laundry (at the hotel, fabulous!) before Saturday’s train to Seville. Daddy likes to travel with clean clothes.
The view from my second gin and tonic.