We're Definitely not in Italy Anymore

First, a leftover snapshot from Florence.  I couldn't leave it without showing you the street leather market.  Rene, you would have gone beserk.  Leather shoes, boots, bags, coats, in a rainbow of colours, all in that lovely Florintine leather.  Yet another benefit of packing light - I had to exercise restraint!

As always, a house exchange is an adventure.  For one thing, there is the question of appliances, half of which are un-understandable without explanation.  Then there is the question of shopping and food.  As I mentioned, Yolanda and Eduardo took us to the supermarket on our arrival, where we were in for our first shock.  The food is cheap, at least for Northamericans (Yolanda says it is not cheap for locals).  The produce, though, is magnificent, and the cheeses and cured meats are the best I have ever eated (yes, better than Italy).

Yolanda and Eduardo had stories to tell.  Eduardo was a victim of one of the first Islamist bombings - back in 1985 - and although he is in good spirits, he was injured enough to be receiving a full pension.  Also interesting to find that they had no children of their own, but adopted a child.  Our host, too, is a single child, if I understood right (which I might not have, of course).  So much for being fruitful and multiplying in an ostensibly Catholic country.

Another part of the home exchange learning curve, of course, is the driving and finding your way.  We are living in a far eastern suburb of Madrid, and apparently the city fathers and mothers stopped short of putting up the street names.  We have a map - it has street names, of course -  but considering all the backing and filling we did just to find the nearest Metro station - well, let me put it this way, I was glad we had a full tank of gas!  We did ultimately find a Metro station, though - not the one we were looking for, but a station nonetheless - and, with a current Metro map in hand, navigated our third underground system is as many languages.  After the driving, that part was relatively easy, although we had three train changes to get to the central plaza (and 45 minutes).

The trip was well worth it however.  The Teatro Real (where the opera is shown) was a lovely building to see in and of itself, but the main attraction was the Palacio Real, a 3,000 (no, that is not a typo) room palace still in use by the royal family today, and for such ceremonial signings as the European Union Treaty.  And no, we did not go to all the rooms, but saw enough to be in shock and awe, including the Royal Armory and the Royal Pharmacy, as well as bedrooms and private rooms and rooms of state galore.  Once again, the only photo ops were outdoors, but I took what I could.

At least the Spanish Monarchy knew which side of the bread the butter was on; witness the following statues;

A statue of Montezuma of the Aztecs....

And Ataualpa, of the Incas!

Finally, we saw the Cathedral from the Plaza...

but, finding it closed for the customary lunch break (from 3 to 5:30), and being beat anyway, and not wanting to drive in the dark, we headed back, navigating the subway - and this time, the driving too, like we knew where we were going.  Stopped at the same bar, to "our" table, for tapas and a drink (lord knows, even though it was already 6 P.M., there was no dinner to be had), and then home, for cheese, ham, and salad, and, of course, more wine and beer.

Along the way, we picked up a Madrid guidebook, and have, as usual, sorted out our next plan.