An expat named Matt Smith drove me to Santiago de Compostela whence the train to Madrid. The drive was an hour, the train three hours, wait time between arrival at train station and train departure, one hour. That one hour was spent pacing back and forth, suitcase in tow, because what was I going to do, sit?
There were three reasons I wanted to get to the station early: to make sure the ticket I had was adequate. The guy at Customer Service looked at it scornfully and told me it was not big enough! "Es todo lo que tengo. (It is all I have)," I told him. He looked at me scornfully, took a picture of the QR code, printed out a paper ticket, crumpled up my (perfectly good) piece of paper, threw it in the trash, looked at me scornfully again, handed me the new ticket, and that was that. The second reason was that I wanted to get on the train early to secure a space for my suitcase. Desafortunadamente, that was not possible as the train pulled into the station about two minutes before it was scheduled to leave and the eager hoards were rushing to their assigned cars with the same plan in mind. I left the bag in the baggage area but protruding into the aisle. Someone must have come along and rearranged the suitcases because it ended up in a kosher spot. And the third reason was YOU NEVER KNOW!!
The train offered wi-fi that did not connect to the internet. Fortunately I had a Sunday puzzle already in play, so I finished that up. Sitting beside me was a woman of enormous proportions, who, with a couple of friends had done the last bit of the Portuguese Camino. She was looking forward to a nice rest in Madrid. I was looking forward to wi-fi.
Hotel: OMG it is gorgeous! I was worried that the pictures overplayed the reality, but no, this is not a tacky Air B&B marketed as a luxury apartment. It is genuinely gracious and comfortable. (The immediate neighborhood leaves something to be desired, though.) And there is a supermarket open 24/7 closer to the hotel than Nica´s is to my house! I was planning on cooking eggs. onion, and potatoes, but instead, made toast. There are other dining options, for example, you can order in, if that is your preference. You can reserve the gym for yourself! (They don´t have a rowing machine so I won´t bother.) And there are many other amenities of which I am unlikely to take advantage.
This morning, at 6:45 a.m. I left on a city walk that was about 3 1/2 hours long. It could have been designed better, but it had some worthwhile moments like the rose garden where there are many many many different cultivars, each in its own bed..
The fairest of them all:
And there was a market that offers all manner of tappas and other eatables most artistically presented:
Even the olives were glistening and nicely arrnged:
The tour completed and I being fortified by the fritata I had been waiting to cook, I headed off to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, which does have an impressive collection. The Thyssens made their money in steel and spent in art. The Bornemisza part of the name is from a Hungarian wife of one of the sons, or something like that.
Gaugin welcomes you into the museum:
The artist of this flower needs no introduction:
But the painter of Cat Learning Fire may:
Robert Nava
I got a kick out of this glistening, gold plated, traveling tea set. When heading off to Nepal or where ever, back in the day, you would not leave home without it:
A stroll in the Retiro:
Another stroll in the botanic garden with no photos to show for it, and then "home," in a manner of speaking.