Home from Madrid

Monday morning, and spreading olive oil and tomatoes on the toasted bocadillo bread is a whole lot better than going in to work! And so we wind up our stay in Madrid with that same breakfast, and a wander around some new quarters before heading back to the airport. 

We still haven’t found out what it’s about, but the military event around the royal palace today is even bigger, with massed ranks of uniforms filling the closed-off street, armed police guarding every corner. It’s an impressive display, whatever the story. 

Mercado de San Miguel is no longer a market but an upmarket foodhall, almost a tapas and pintxo equivalent of London’s Borough Market, full of people enjoying the quality food. After a small taster here, we feel strangely compelled to give the razor clams another go, and so return to Bar Cruz for grilled sardines and fresh tomatoes as well as another round of clams. Scoffing these delights in the 27 degree sun doesn’t seem a bad way to end this trip.

We came primarily for football, beer and wine, but found a hidden delight in the tabernas of Old Madrid. Adrian and I have agreed that El Bombin is up there with the best bars we have discovered on these boys’ weekends of ours. I may just have to return here with Michaela.