A long weekend in Madrid is like eating summer in glorious mini bites.
– Sitting under an umbrella, eating ice cream at Llaollao, watching impossibly tanned people walk by in their sparkling flip flops.
– Wandering for hours at night over cobbled, curving streets, stopping outside the illuminated palace, wandering around marble statues of Spanish kings.
– Churros at 3 AM, another round of drinks, laughter, stories deep into the morning.
– A little nap in the thick afternoon, a breeze lifting the curtain, music on the street blending into your siesta dreams.
– Popping into the Royal Academy of Fine Arts of San Fernando for some Picasso sketches and air conditioning.
– Octopus sprinkled in paprika, fried chicken dipped in cheese, charred peppers, chilly rose or a coffee; sitting under an umbrella and watching the amber light fade inside the four brick walls of the Plaza Mayor.
The night never loses its energy. Rollerbladers roll by, lovers share a kiss, someone shouts and laughs, music wafts by from a guitar player, a lone man on a park bench. The day is an eternity and the night even longer. I don’t know how we get it all in, yet feel so unhurried, so bohemian and chill, at the same time.
It must be some Madrid magic.