I had been afraid of driving into the max center of Madrid to return the rental car to the Estación de Tren de Madrid Atocha. Try terrified, and we were driving in on Easter Sunday. We wanted to be early, when the car return would inspect and accept our rental. We still expected people to be jamming the streets. How sweetly wrong we were. The city felt empty. The zombie apocalypse? Just devout Catholics in their neighborhood churches. So we were at the head of the line when the agency's doors opened, but it still took a chunk out of our morning with everyone getting short-tempered, expecially those with trains to catch. At least all we suffered was the sweaty wait and translation challenges before we could walk our luggage a few blocks to our hotel next to the Caixia Form, Rina-Sofia Museum, the Prado, and the botanical gardens. Up the hill were the tapas joints we'd been longing for. Location. Location. Location.
We had only a few days to get a decent dose of this amazing city, managing the major museums (cursorily as usual, because we're only good for 2-hr attempts). We walked interesting neighborhoods up to the palace, discovered street art, and trying to stay warm in a sudden winter relapse. We found a place next to a Jambon shop that had outstanding tapas. So good that we decided it was worth a 2nd night, our last in Madrid.
If we were to return, it would have to be for longer and just before summer vacations. It's loaded with art and history, but I know nothing about it in the way that I appreciate Barcelona. Not once did I think, "I could live here."
