Judy and I went to Madrid and Barcelona and quickly started making a list about things that were better in Spain. Maybe it was just being on vacation, enjoying perfect weather, time away and time off, positive attitudes. But I don’t think so. I think many parts of life are indeed better there.
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Puerta del Sol--or just "Sol." Madrid |
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A Vodafone store wants to know if you are happy |
Café Life—Nearly everywhere a sidewalk café awaits you where
you can sit down for a reboot. And never the boot. Whether you need a dose of caffeine or a spot of
jamon iberico before going on about your day. The tables face onto the street for people watching.
You are never rushed. Never. In fact it is
hard to get
la cuenta.
No Tipping—I don’t know why, and I wouldn’t have known at all if it
were not for my son, who is living in Madrid. Not with taxi drivers,
housekeepers or waiters. Not in Madrid
anyway. Well maybe at your neighborhood bar where they prepare your tap and tapas
the minute you walk in.
Walk Don’t Run, Stroll Don’t Walk—This requires a certain rhythm. Not that easy for someone who likes to move quickly. You
can be blocked by a boulevard-ing group of slow-walkers. My son says that
social appointments are only a vague concept. Nine can mean anything from 9 to
9:40. To 10.
The Unfolding of the Day—Before traveling to Spain, when
people tell you how late dinner is served you wince. You say “I certainly can’t
do that and I won’t.” But you do. We
adjusted quickly, and by the end of the trip wouldn’t think of eating
before 10:30. The magic siesta facilitates this. Rest for a couple of
hours, become restored, and stroll out to a leisurely dinner. The streets reach
peak activity around 11 or 12. Midnight feels like 9 p.m.
City Structure—Circles and squares. I don’t know the first
thing about city planning, but the European notion of squares, circles with
fountains, plazas, is brilliant. Walk
down some narrow medieval streets and then emerge in a big square
with café tables on the perimeter, and a gymnast in the middle doing a running leap
over three tightly packed tourists.
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Placa Reial Barcelona-(Credit-Barcelona.com) |
Farmacia—These dot the scene and seem preferable to the big box Walgreens or Rite Aid.
You’re forced to interact with live humans instead of a self-checkout machine.
It’s fast and efficient. I needed to fill a prescription for antibiotics and it
took about two minutes. None of this futzing around with pills and little
bottles and labels. The pharmacist pushed a button and my amoxicillin popped out of a shoot-hole
onto the counter.
Expense—It is so cheap in Spain. OMG from the meals to the
clothes to the museum tickets to the cabs. We were routinely astounded after a
big dinner in an elegant restaurant to be presented with a bill for 40 or
50 euros. One of the best meals we had, with 5 people and a bottle of
wine, cost 120 euros. Between this and the no tipping, Judy declared at one point that we were
underspending.
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How about a little sea foam (aire de mar) on your sea bass? 4 Gats |
Cerveza—I like fake beer. I have been drinking it for 30
years and it is often a challenge to find in the United States. It is
universally available in Spain. In fact, it was on tap at one place. It is often labeled free. One of the brewing companies is Damm. So my beer was
Damm Free. It's about pacing yourself for the long, long nights, my son says.
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Free--Damm Free |
Life Shows Up—There are pop up musicians, accordions,
saxophones, electric guitars. There are painted performance artists staying
frozen in place for hours. A man dressed up as death was telling stories to a
group in the Gothic Quarter. Smiles,
laughs, lots of PDA. The economy may be depressed but the Spaniards are not.
Food—Better, much better. Protein like grilled octopus,
razor clams, cod cheek, the oddly named Spanish tortilla, a mixture of eggs and
potatoes, and
numero uno jamon. Starches like
potatoes bravas and the best
bread in the world.
Verduras—all
grilled--artichokes, onions, pumpkin. The tomatoes are otherworldly. A fearless
use of salt. Anchovies are served as appetizers. The much touted squid ink. Paint it black.
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El pulpo |
The Women and the Glamour—There are not a lot of jeans and
flip flops, everyone puts in an effort, kicks it up a notch,
and they have good shoes, even the men. Spanish women can be devastatingly good
looking, that shiny, shiny black hair, a slash of red lipstick, thin, confident,
head-turning, and Spain is dense with them.
At one hotel in Madrid,
Only You, a GQ model delivered our room service coffee, and we
were checked out by a beauty queen.
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Spanish girls are so pretty |
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