I wasn't sure what I was going to do today. I spent some time reading my guide book and checking train schedules to see if I could plan a day trip or two. I still have two days use on my Spain Rail Pass, and even though I feel like I already got my money's worth, I wouldn't mind seeing a little more of what Spain has to offer. I'm still undecided and a lot depends on the weather and how I am feeling, but it looks like I might go to Avila and Salamanca in one day, and Segovia another day.
I was planning on going to the train station to make my reservations and then from there hitting one of the museums that are nearby. I checked Rick Steve's website to see if he had any tips on visiting the Prado and he suggested going during siesta as it was least crowded. I was thinking I would go later in the day, but I took his advice. And since they were going to make me check my bag and since I was not sure if I wanted to book these train trips, I left everything at home except my camera.
It was a gray, cloudy, slightly blistery day. I'd eaten breakfast and a bowl of lentils before going out, but I thought I needed a cup of hot chocolate and some churros to sustain me while I did the cultural thing.
Walking from here to the Prado, I saw a sign advertising rich chocolate and freshly made churros. I followed it and came across a little corner bar/cafe. There were a few women sitting at a table and one woman at the counter reading a newspaper. I sat down at the counter and ordered churros and chocolate.
The chocolate was really good, very dark, thick and rich, and the churros were also good, though I have to say I prefer the ones in Granada to Madrid. Here they are more like what I can get at Mexican restaurants in SF - they are kind of thin, crunchy and have ridges. In Granada they were thick, puffy and airy and went so well with the chocolate.
My chocolate came in a big goblet type thing.
The place was cute and so was the guy behind the counter. Every now and then he'd go around and offer cookies from a tray on the counter. He also offered me a glass of water. It was the most attentive service I have had so far in Spain.
As I was enjoying my churros and chocolate and the atmosphere and the service a loud group of men and one woman came charging in. They stood right next to me loudly having an intellectual discussion about films. I was hoping they would sit down, but they didn't. They just stood there and talked, even bumping into me from time to time. I think this is the Spanish thing to do. It's what I've seen in tapas bars and one reason I haven't gone to tapas bars. I moved down a stool, but it was not enough. They had completely spoiled what was otherwise the perfect place for me.
I paid for my churros and chocolate and left, having to say excuse me several times to get past them to the door.
I got to the Prado and after having to ask several people where the entrance was, I got my ticket, and whizzed inside. It looked like it might be crowded at times as they had roped off areas for lines and several ticket windows. It seemed I had come at a good time.
I entered and had no idea where to go. From what I've read in my guidebook and elsewhere, there are recommendations as to which rooms to visit, whether to turn right or left, go up or down, etc., but I had no guide book and didn't really have anything in particular I wanted to see except for maybe the Raphael they had.
So I just walked. I passed through a Dutch/Flemish area and saw a room full of Hieronymous Bosch, the Dutch/Flemish (not sure) guy who did some very weird paintings, especially ones depicting heaven and hell. His most famous one was crowded by tour groups which made it hard to see the details like devils eating people alive, but I did get to see some of his other less famous paintings up close. Verdict? The guy was a strange one. I chuckled several times at the oddness of his paintings. Some of them were just creepy.
I also liked a few other Dutch/Flemish masters - Roger somebody who had an amazing crucifixion scene that had such crisp detail, even the cut in Christ's side looked so real it was hard to believe it was a painting, in spite of the very stylized and super real quality of the painting. I don't think it was famous though because there were no tour groups in front of it.
I found the museum layout very confusing with rooms going in all directions and in no apparent order with very few signs. I walked around several times to be sure I didn't miss anything as I soon got the impression that even though this was one of the world's greatest museums, it was not that big.
I was not really enjoying myself, to be honest, but now in retrospect I am glad I went. I got to see some fantastic El Greco paintings, which I was unable to see in Toledo since his house was closed for repairs. I also some Velasquez portraits that were kind of funny. It seemed to me that all of the faces in his paintings looked the same, but I loved his brushstroke and also a certain playfulness he seemed to have with otherwise boring subject matter (aristocrats).
I think my two favorites were Goya, who had some portraits on one floor similar to Velasquez (in fact I confused the two), but on the lower level was his famous painting depicting the execution of a group of men who rebelled in Madrid in the late 1800's - one man in a white shirt standing with his arms outstretched in an act of Christ-like defiance before being shot. And then in another room was an eery collection of Goya's "dark" paintings. I had forgotten about these, but seeing them reminded me of the one that appeared in my art history book. They were very eery, kind of scary. Monsters, strange looking people, one of a dog seeming to be sinking in quicksand, but not really clear where he was. It was clear that Goya at this point in his life was fighting some very serious demons and while I loved the power of these paintings, it was the power that also kind of gave me the chills and scared me. I didn't stay long.
I made one last round towards the Bosch room to see if I could see his garden of earthly delights or whatever it is called without a tour group in front of it, and stumbled across the Raphael. It was a tiny little thing in a frame that made it seem even smaller, but it was a very sweet little painting of Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus who was sitting on a lamb. The best thing was that apparently no one else knew it was there. There were no tour groups in front of it, and in fact, no one else but me.
I did make it back to the Bosch and another tour group was standing in front of his most famous painting. It seemed to be a group of high school students. The tour guide was explaining the three different parts of the painting - the creation, paradise and hell, while the students looked around, looking very bored, some staring off into space, others looking at the ceiling. I stood and listened for a while, but I could see why they were bored. I think the guide was over-explaining the painting and it probably would have been more interesting to get them to talk about what they saw, rather than try to explain every little detail to them.
And so now it is raining and I'm in for the day since my jeans are in the wash and it's too cold for shorts. Tomorrow I may go to the train station and try to book a trip for Friday, and then maybe stop in at the Reina Sofia museum to see Picasso's Guernica, which I am sure will have a steady stream of tour groups standing in front of it, making it very difficult to appreciate.
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