Day 1: Madrid

For the fourth year in a row, I am flying toward the sunrise. But today our plane is early, and instead, as we touch down in Madrid, we see a large and full orange moon setting over the planes of central Spain. The color is striking against the black sky. 

We are beginning our new adventure to cross the north of Spain. We will start in Madrid, visit Salamanca, where my daughter studied. Then, head north to Galicia and then follow the north coast to Basque country. Then south again to the mountains of Picos Europa and onto Leon and Burgos. We will stop in Zaragoza. Then go north to the tiny Pyrenees country of Andorra and finally to the Costa Brava and Barcelona. It is aggressive 28-day schedule and we are not certain about our plans to do it. Much of it will be an adventure. 

We find our way to the airport Metro, as we have been counseled to take it to the apartment by the owner. Customs was surprisingly  easy and  we are at the machines selling Metro tickets not quite knowing what to do and punching buttons hoping to get a ticket at 6 a.m. After some fumbling, we buy two ride cards, but have no idea what they are worth. We have spent 17 Euros which should be plenty for the rides, but we just don’t know what we have bought.  The cards open the turnstiles, that is good enough. We head for the platform.

 We find our way to the inbound line and transfer without much difficulty to the connecting train at the end of the airport line. It has gone well so far and we are running early. The Metro station is surprisingly deep underground and we must travel up many escalators to get to the street. When we do, there are still two flight of stone steps, up which we must lug the two heavy suitcases. People stop and help Ana lift hers up the two flights. Very nice. 

Madrid: The busy plaza below our apartment on Calle Fuencarral.

We make a call to the manager, who is expecting us later. With his help, we find the apartment; but must wheel our bags 6 blocks down Calle Fuencarral from the Tribunal Station. We are on the fifth floor. The apartment overlooks a busy square that  begins a pedestrian street, that is a shopping mall for ten blocks or more until it meets Plaza del Sol. As it is early, delivery trucks are still servicing the restaurants, driving on the pedestrian way. Just a few workers are rushing past to their jobs. Ana needs a coffee and has stopped at a Dunkin Doughnuts right outside our entrance. To the other side is a Starbucks. There is much in this part of Madrid that is American. 

The apartment is fine, more than large enough for the two of us. On the fifth floor, the terrace overlooks the little plaza beneath us where outside tables have been set up for Starbucks, Dunkin, and the customers of a more local bar. The square and the street will buzz with pedestrians and shoppers all day and well into the night. The apartment is bigger than the one we had during last year’s visit to Madrid, but the terrace here is always noisy with the buzz below. Last year we overlooked a square as well, but the area was mostly office workers getting to their jobs and thus a quieter city environment.

We review the apartment with the gentleman who has been assigned to greet us and get a few tips on places around. Then we sleep off the flight until about 4 p.m. Walking several blocks, we find a local food store and  shop for breakfast needs. Afterwards take a walk to survey the restaurants nearby for a late dinner. After hiking for sometime about the nearby streets, and stopping at a local bar for a local beer, we settle on La Pescaderia. We make a reservation for inside at 9:30 p.m. 

The place is full when we arrive and are ushered into a basement setting with a large group of business people celebrating something with great vigor at a long table next to us. The downstairs has a bit of a smell; we hope it is fish. 

At La Pescaderis, it is possible to order interesting plates of food and share them. We discuss the menu and settle on four dishes: a pumpkin salada with goat cheese, cod fish fritters,  fish ceviche and a local anchovy dish. When the plates arrive, the anchovy dish has been mistakenly switch with shrimp in avocado relish. We decide that it was a good error, and don’t complain. It is all tasty, but to no surprise Ana likes the cod fish more than me. It proves to be a good first meal in Madrid. 

When we retire, Ana finds that the noise from the milling crowd below is making it too difficult to sleep. She closes the window despite the cool breeze and turns on the A/C. She has gotten use to the quiet of the the New Hampshire woods; now we are in the big city.

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