That all changed when we got to Madrid. Chocolatería San Ginés, open 24-7 (or practically) was steps down a pedestrian street right by our apartment. So clearly the breakfast choice (at noon) was obvious. Our eyes were a bit bigger than our stomaches, however, when we had two orders of the hot chocolate (a bit thicker, though less chocolate-y than we expected) with six churros apiece.
And with that, the day started on a very sugar-y note. The Centro de Arte Reina Sofía was free after 2:30. I'm a big advocate for free art, so of course I would go support that! It was the same walk to the Prado, then just a bit south along the Paseo de Prado to get to the hulking concrete building.
I found out later that I'm pretty sure I went in the wrong way, but no one ever asked for a ticket, and I knew it was free anyway, so in I went.
Rick had a guided tour that took art starting with WWI and continuing through the end of WWII. Sadly, all of the Dalí had been taken out as part of a temporary exhibit that 1) you had to pay for and 2) all the tickets were sold out.
So it was cubism next - Picasso at all stages was all over this museum, with other Spanish artists such as Braque, Léger, and Gris about. I don't really know what I'm talking about, but I have heard of and seen prints of "Guernica," Picasso's anti-war piece, before. But the story - Picasso in Paris, Franco authorizing the bombing, the painting (and artist) in exile until the end of the dictator - wasn't something I was familiar with. It still baffles me that Spain was under a dictator in recent history.
I wrapped up my tour of the museum to meet back up with Rosie (and having a Brie and ham sandwich from Pans and Company, the Subway of Spain) and have a bit of a siesta. We arose again at 6, and I was starving. So it was off for a bite - which really just turned into a banana and some froyo. When we realized the Reina Sofía was open until 9pm, we headed back that way.
My art style is modern, geometric, installation, using typography, found objects, math - pretty much the antithesis of the Prado and not really done until after the 50s. So while Rosie was off exploring the Picasso's I had seen in the afternoon, I was on to the Nouvel Wing, with a permanent exhibit on the '60s to the '80s and an awesome temporary exhibit on "concrete art in South America and its influences", or something of the sort.
All I know is I was perfectly happy wandering through there for an hour and a half. There were psychedelic shimmering cubes, tricks with walls and mirrors and paint, installations of minimalism and escapism (at least, that's what I'll call the room that had parrots and a sand floor in it).
I miss my Mattress Factory back in Pittsburgh, and I need to visit the East Wing of the National Museum of Art again. And maybe I need to invest in a piece of modern art of my own.
As the last night in Spain, it was clearly tapas time. We headed to Calle Jésus for some Yelp (and Rick) suggestions.
First was a hole-in-the-wall tavern down a side street with the best free tapa we've gotten - fried yucca . Then it was ribs (beef this time, with a yummy broth we soaked up with bread) and "cochocellas" - snails! Their were only five of us in the bar, including a woman from Florida and a kid with a yo-yo. But it was superb.
Next was a "dive bar" - super friendly, English-speaking proprietor who told us to sit, gave us some salami a crunchy crackers which could be called "breadsticks" and then we got "pisto" (green peppers in a tomato sauce) to finish up there.
Cheery bartenders met us at our next stop, where we had our typical glasses of red and our typical tapa, something on bread.
At the Galacian Taberna Maciera, we were told "no Rioja - Gallacian wines only!" We got a delicious little dish of octopus with some chickpeas but moved on because it was more of a restaurant and we were getting full.
100 Montaditos - with another location we saw nearer to us later - was our place to finish up the night. Sitting on the terrace, beer with límon in hand, watching the beautifully dressed people emerging from the hotel in front of us, we were actually getting a bit chilly. That, and the uphill in front of us, were reason enough to take the cab the mile and a half home.
As we got in the cab, I mentioned that a con of taking a taxi was not being able to wonder past an ice cream shop. Well, the cab couldn't go on the pedestrianized final block to our place, and their just so happened to be a gelateria on that block, so me and my chocolate and my strachetelli powered me up those six flights of stairs.
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