Hemingway Ernest. Madrid drivers.
Spring has come to Madrid. Officially. It begins after the inscriptions Ya es Primavera ("Spring has arrived") appear on the windows of the famous Spanish department stores El Corte Ingles, where tourists are bought from ignorance and the Spaniards - for a show-off.
Spring in Madrid is above + 25 ° C, a T-shirt, shorts and sandals in the afternoon, a cashmere sweater, boots and a woolen coat - in the evening at a temperature tending to zero.
This year, spring in Madrid is the time of the Cow Parade. Large plastic cows, painted in every way and placed on every corner in the city center. One of them, a mannered cow in black bots with red cannons, impressively fell apart inside a cup of coffee on Castilla Avenue, in the place of the congestion of the famous Madrid museums. People climb into a cup, squeeze a cow over a pink udder, take pictures and in every possible way amusely mock a plastic animal with the full connivance of the police. Where you will not go this spring in the center of Madrid, you will come across a cow. This year, cows are more popular with tourists than the Prado Museum.
Like any other spring in Madrid, this is a time of love spilling out onto the streets where girls and boys kiss, hug, women and men, grandparents and boys and boys.
Spring is the time to fall in love with Madrid and Madrid. In the latter - especially. To paraphrase Hemingway, let anyone who wants to put on stunning collections of Bosch, Velazquez, Goya, Murillo, Zurbaran, El Greco, beautiful Madrid architectural ensembles and amazing historical artifacts. I bet on Hipolito, Caesar, Miguel Angel, Jose, Pedro, Julia, Lucia, Mary and each of the two million nine hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants of the three millionth city. Without them, he would have been just a museum.
Kaleidoscope from madrilenos
True madrileno, indigenous Madrid in several generations, almost none. The road to Madrid for all comers was paved by King Philip II, who in 1561 elected him his residence. Since then, everyone who wants to assimilate and turn into Madrid has been drawn to the capital, creating the Brownian movement that the city lives in.
Outwardly, Madrid can only be identified after they retire. Up to this point, they are as kaleidoscopic as the films of Pedro Almodovar. Thick, thin, bald, patly, white, black, blond, brunette, red, tall, small, beautiful, ugly, handsome, funny, formal, informal. At the same time, with a small percentage of types à la Banderas’s presence: the macho for the world supplies the south of the country, not the center, and Penelope Cruz was and remains, perhaps, one of the most beautiful natives of Madrid.
In order to carry the title of madrileno it is not necessary to be born in Madrid. You don’t even have to be born in Spain. But you definitely need to be extremely sociable, to love people, football, bullfighting, beer with meat and speak Castilian with the speed of an automatic machine, using a bunch of obscene words, rather sweet than swearing. This is quite enough.
Even the ducks from the local Retiro park, which occupies 350 acres in the city center, assimilated, became true Madrid. Between the ponds, they move in small groups, gathering everyone from small to large, slapping yellow grabbers on the gravel of the tracks, wagging their thick asses and gently loudly barking, jumping up and down in every possible way showing interest in their brothers. Very lively ducks in Retiro. As well as the Madrid themselves. Sociability, positive and harmlessness are the hallmarks of the inhabitants of the Spanish capital. The most dangerous people in Madrid are the numerous pickpockets and gendarmes of the Civil Guard. And then, while at work.
Work is not a wolf
Madrid live on the street. Almost in the literal sense of the word. In the workplace they exist. And do not be misled by important persons and ironed suits with slightly short trousers from local office workers. Madrid go to work solely because of circumstances: they are paid money there.
Due to the difficult economic conditions and the highest unemployment rate in Europe, Madrid does not shun any work. Although, to be honest, a weak Spanish economy has nothing to do with it. Madrid, like most residents of Spain, are completely devoid of ambition. An ambitious Madrid wiping himself in the blood for a career is a rare specimen, most likely not yet settled a limit.
Rather, it will be a carpenter, seller, taxi driver - always good-natured and in a good mood. Without any hint of frustration, and this is with such a difficult life. Madrid love to work, but within the framework: they will not be superfluous to load themselves, no matter how much they were asked by the authorities, parents and propaganda. Living on the streets is much more interesting to them. It is customary to go out to people daily; from Wednesday, exits are delayed until midnight. On weekends, everyone plunges into noche madrileno, when groups of friends smoothly flow from one bar to another, visiting several establishments overnight.
When Madrid has time to get enough sleep - an eternal mystery, the answer to which no one knows. Having walked through the bars until 3 at night, at 6 in the morning they already drink chocolate there and run to work.
Not a single beer
And beer, wine and tapas. That and live. Back in the 19th century, Madrid advertised itself by word of mouth with a witty ditty:
Madrid is not a city, but fun. No wonder you came here, There is one library And a couple of thousands of nice bars!
Each resident of Madrid has a couple of permanent pubs and cafes to which they are attributed with all their heart. Usually, a couple is near the house, and a couple is near work. In the mornings, Madrid has breakfast here, for lunch they drop in for a snack, in the evening - to drink beer or wine. Moreover, they begin to consume beer and wine already at dinner. From the outside, it may seem that Madrid is a chronic alcoholic. But this is only from the outside: they like to drink, but they will not categorically get drunk. They don’t even need it: in beer cervecerias they communicate, but do not fill the soul.
Therefore, the most knowledgeable people in Madrid are the bartenders. They work in pubs from youth until retirement, and in retirement they become their regular visitors. They not only quickly serve beer and snacks (tapas), but also act as something like executives of regular visitors. Any bartender can write a weighty biography about each of them, with all the details. Bartenders in Madrid know more than the national newspapers El Pais and El Mundo combined.
Madrid eat most often tapas: many-faced appetizers that are served with wine or cana - a glass of beer. Once upon a time, they covered glasses with tapas so that flies would not climb into the beer. The tradition has taken root and has grown into the life of every Madrid.
You can really eat tapas all your life, they are so tasty and varied: to intercept a layer of delicious jamon ham, a piece of cheese, a couple of olives and pickled cucumbers, a triangle of Spanish omelet with potatoes, some sandwich, and you are full, and it’s healthy if your stomach used to. Full-fledged food, such as stew from everything that is used in cocido madrileno, roasted in garlic pork ear oreja de cerdo, fried potatoes patatas bravas and the same paella (which, by the way, cook for a very long and dreary), is necessary only on selected evenings and weekend fees in the family circle. By the way, family dinners on weekends are almost mandatory for everyone.
Madrid does not categorically recognize vegetarianism, and cheese and boiled eggs are always crammed into a vegetarian sandwich, surprised that “bread and bread” can be eaten. Is it any wonder that there are even “Jamon Museums” in Madrid: shops hung with batteries of dried pork legs, where there are always a lot of people and serve delicious sandwiches, cold beer and ice sangria.
Translation difficulties
Contact in Madrid is accepted on "you". And the point. On "You", "Senior" and "Senior" - only to persons older than 50. Not that Madrid was uncivilized. Not. Just whoever you are, you are a friend, brother, sister and invited to a beer. A rare madrian speaks English. A rare visitor to Madrid does not speak the local Castilian dialect. Even the Chinese, to whom the majority of the grocery stores have been handed over, tolerate, but funny, chirping on it.
The very inhabitants of the cradle of the Castilian dialect, which is commonly called the Spanish language in the world, often speak their native language intricately and incomprehensibly. But what Madrid can do professionally is to chatter. Even the broadcasters on television chatter a lot slower than a simple Madrid.
Madrid can talk about anything, with anyone, anywhere and anytime. Finding an interlocutor is not a problem, it is much more problematic to find free ears.
Completely trying to understand Madrid’s tirade is a disastrous matter, at any level of Spanish. For pleasant communication, knowledge of the language is not necessary: it is enough to give the initiative to the interlocutor and periodically, with passion in his voice, insert the phrases traditional for Madrid: “Come on, man!”, “Get off!”, “Really?” and “Cheeeer!”, “His mother is by the foot!”.
About love
Once, in my second year at the university, I told my teacher of foreign literature that Don Quixote, in general, was a rare idiot. It was later, after I lived in Madrid, it became clear to me that any resident of this city can become the prototype of hidalgo. They do not know how to do anything without the full surrender of feelings: solid phoenix birds. Maybe just work.
Madrid's love is not some kind of fast-burning Latin love. If they love, then they love. And anyone and anything.
Most of all they love life, even when it hits its face with its fists. They just live and rejoice, representing a clear embodiment of the Buddhist principle - not the one who has a lot is happy, but the one who needs little. And they say - “A beber y a tragar, que el mundo se va a acabar” - “We will drink, we will walk, and death will come - we will die!”.
They love women. The female part of the Madrid population should only be envied - the male part somehow faithfully loves it. And with makeup, and without makeup, and without tall heels (they do not like them here), and with tummies crawling out of jeans. Here, any woman is guapa (beauty), slightly more colored - preciosa (stunning beauty). Madrid, for the most part, are wonderful family people. Love almost forever. Yes, and if you stop loving - then also forever.
They love football and bullfighting. Loud, passionate and public. And then they cover the players and the torero with selected mats. Also loud, passionate and public. And again they get sick, and again they scold. If the government is still remembered, then the full bazaar station begins. But it never comes to assault: they scold, and do not swear, loudly and passionately discussing the most important topics in the life of any self-respecting Madrid.
Once again about love
Madrid looks like an old man with big bright eyes in a cute squint, and a warm, cozy hug. To the marrow of the bones of a provincial and conservative, despite his metropolitan status, an old man who has gone out of fashion does not want to change over time. He doesn’t care where the world is heading today, because he personally is heading to his pub tonight with his friends.
He is hyperactive over the years, always running somewhere, calling, stopping only to miss a glass, have a bite of anchovy on the go, discuss the news with friends, call the ugly girl "beautiful", and again - to the streets. It penetrates into the gut, spreading through the veins by the rivers of sangria. It pumps incredible amounts of information into the brain, often completely unnecessary, at a rate comparable to the speed of fireballs. Chases through the night streets, dazzles with works of art, feeds deliciously jerky meat from the belly, pours beer into the body, stuns the heels of flamenco dancers with a knock.
He is the kindest, open and positive grandfather in the world. He loves you the way you are, because he himself is multifaceted to stupid.
And he will always be cunning, waving the yellow-red scarf of the national flag after the planes from the runway of the Barajas airfield, wishing for a pleasant flight. Because he knows that you will sob in your soul as if announced, clinging to the porthole and trying to catch your eye on the Sierra de Guadarram massif.
After all, it was he himself who once composed the proverb that Madrid can only be exchanged for heaven, and even if there is a hole in which you can look at it.
Ten things to do in Madrid
- Visit at least one of the three famous museums - the Prado, the Reina Sofia Museum or the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum. If there is little time, then choose the Queen Sofia Museum and see Picasso's “Guernica”.
- Walk the Austrian, Habsburg Madrid buildings of the XVII century. Start from Plaza de la Villa and turn onto one of the streets on the left. Continue on a hunch, without a specific route, and walk to the former main square of the capital Plaza Mayor.
- Explore the sweet quarter - Malasana surrounding Plaza Dos de Mayo. Admire the shop windows, ignoring graffiti, and sit in Manuela Cafe at 29 Calle San Vicente Ferrer, chat with locals and watch football or bullfighting on TV.
- Take a cable car ride into the depths of Casa de Campo, a gigantic 17.5-square-meter park. km, once the former royal hunting territory. Get off the ground and peer into the Parque Zoologico Zoo.
- Surrender to the "good privacy" of the siesta in the park Parque del Buen Retiro, exactly like the King of Spain Philip IV. When the heat subsides, examine the pavilions of the 19th century architect Velazquez - the Crystal Palace and the Palace of Velazquez, and feed the handmade squirrels with nuts.
- Spend a ton of money at the El Rastro flea market, which every Sunday and public holiday from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. rumbles in the streets between Plaza de Cascorro and Ribera de Curtidores from the 17th century to this day. To have something to spend, the wallet needs to be hidden away: El Rastro is teeming with pickpockets.
- Choose a favorite from two types of the world's most delicious cured ham Jamon, which was appreciated by the ancient Romans in the person of Emperor Diocletianus. The difference in hams depends on the breed of pig and their diet - Jamon Serrano supplies pigs with white hooves, Jamon Iberico - with black ones. The most delicious jamon is obtained from pigs that fed on acorns of cork oak. In order not to suffer, it is better to take both types. And more.
- Eat a couple servings of Cocido madrileno, a thick and terribly high-calorie stew that kings and beggars love. Slaughter a mixture of beans, cabbage, turnips, potatoes, blood sausages, ham, poultry and everything else, drink a good amount of red table wine.
- Plunge into the bowels of Madrid Night in La Latina. Hike through the bars, preferably in the company. In each bar, drink cana (a glass of beer), eat a couple of tapas (snacks) and move on on a hunch. Pass at least five bars a night.
- After three in the morning, before going to bed and to fight a hangover, drink heartily with thick hot chocolate in the chocolateria San Gines on Pasadizo de San Gines, immersing deep-fried churros sticks in it.
