Madrid 2

A feeling of unreality was starting to form. Travel is totally absorbing and there are only snatches of time for reflection. At times it felt like I was observing somebody else travel, someone who happened to inhabit my body. The hostal had the usual night noises, buzzer going, bell ringing. Some dust managed to penetrate indoors.

It was Sunday so I went to El Rastro, a sprawling flea market. Clothes, trinkets, antiques, cassettes, CDs, magazines, books and birds were just some of the goods.  I was amused to spot Balsamos Tigre de Chino, a well-known Asian ointment; relax, no tigers endangered. There were English tourists and Spanish tourists too, judging from the maps they clutched. Questionnaire takers hovered. Workers Party election poster for 6th June: Sin empleo no hay futuro (No future without employment).

A Spanish woman in traditional costume was heading for Plaza Major. There they were serving cocido from huge pots on carts with takings going to charity. The queue was long so I declined to join.

This is the famed Sobrino de Botín restaurant which has been operating here since 1725.

In nearby Puerta del Sol is a Km 0 marker from which all distances in Spain are measured. It's a well-known meeting point. (Years later, a film comedy would be made about mixups here.) There is also a statue of a bear climbing a madroño tree, heraldic symbol of Madrid.

I spotted a tuna (no not the fish) on the street. They were dressed in black tights and had the insignia of the engineering department of a university on their jackets.

I tried to look for maps at El Corte Inglés, but they were disorganised. I couldn't find their exchange department either to cash my traveler's cheques.

The Museo del Jamón is not exactly a museum, more like a boutique store, mainly for the famed jamón serrano. (But I read recently that jamón ibérico is even more highly prized and priced, requiring a bank loan to purchase.)

Inside the hams were suspended from the ceiling, with small plastic umbrellas screwed into the bottom to catch the dripping. It was a hectic place, waiters were shouting all the time and patrons ate standing at the bar.

I don't remember which street I took this picture in, but it's clearly the lunch hour and Madrileños are enjoying their meals.

After the siesta, I took myself to the Retiro. The paths are named after Latin American countries: Honduras, Nicaragua, Cuba, etc. Strollers ate pumpkin seeds purchased from snack vendors and littered the ground with the husks. Kids were playing hide and seek with parents giving help. Rollerbladers and frisbee players were very impressive. A cyclist narrowly missed a kid.

The lake had rowboats for the public. Ducks, geese and swans (one black one) shared it and were fed by families. Under the water I spotted carp and goldfish. In the background is the Monument to Alfonso XII.

In the rose garden stands a statue of the devil named El Angel Caído (The Fallen Angel).

This is the ethereal Palacio de Cristal looking even more insubstantial in the gathering evening mist. It was originally built to house exhibits from the Philippines. It's not used as a greenhouse but for art exhibits.

The front of the Crystal Palace.

For dinner I had a bocadillo de loma plancha (sub with pork grilled on a metal plate). I had skipped lunch due to an upset stomach and instead ate some rusks from the El Corte Inglés supermarket. Goods there were more expensive than Australia, but produce in the markets was cheaper.