▲▲Self-Guided Bus Tour: Paseo de la Castellana
▲Electric Minibus Joyride and the Lavapiés District
“Football” and Bernabéu Stadium
Map: Madrid’s Center—Hotels & Restaurants
Map: Eating near the Royal Palace
Map: Central Pub-Crawl Tapas Route
Today’s Madrid is upbeat and vibrant. You’ll feel it. Even the living-statue street performers have a twinkle in their eyes.
Madrid is the hub of Spain. This modern capital—Europe’s second-highest, at more than 2,000 feet—has a population of 3.3 million, with about 6 million living in greater Madrid.
Like its people, the city is relatively young. In medieval times, it was just another village, wedged between the powerful kingdoms of Castile and Aragon. When newlyweds Ferdinand and Isabel united those kingdoms (in 1469), Madrid—sitting at the center of Spain—became the focal point of a budding nation. By 1561, Spain ruled the world’s most powerful empire, and King Philip II moved his capital from tiny Toledo to spacious Madrid. Successive kings transformed the city into a European capital. By 1900, Madrid had 500,000 people, concentrated within a small area. In the mid-20th century, the city exploded with migrants from the countryside, creating today’s modern sprawl. Fortunately for tourists, there’s still an intact, easy-to-navigate historic core.
Madrid is working hard to make itself more livable. Massive urban-improvement projects such as pedestrianized streets, parks, commuter lines, and Metro stations are popping up everywhere. The investment is making once-shady neighborhoods safe and turning ramshackle zones into trendy ones. These days the broken concrete and traffic chaos of the not-so-distant past are gone. Even with austerity measures related to Spain’s ongoing economic crisis, funding for the upkeep of this great city has been maintained. Madrid feels orderly and welcoming.
Tourists are the real winners. Dive headlong into the grandeur and intimate charm of Madrid. Feel the vibe in Puerta del Sol, the pulsing heart of modern Madrid and of Spain itself. The lavish Royal Palace, with its gilded rooms and frescoed ceilings, rivals Versailles. The Prado has Europe’s top collection of paintings, and nearby hangs Picasso’s chilling masterpiece, Guernica. Retiro Park invites you to take a shady siesta and hopscotch through a mosaic of lovers, families, skateboarders, pets walking their masters, and expert bench-sitters. Save time for Madrid’s elegant shops and people-friendly pedestrian zones. On Sundays, cheer for the bull at a bullfight or bargain like mad at a mega-size flea market. Swelter through the hot, hot summers or bundle up for the cold, dry winters. Save some energy for after dark, when Madrileños pack the streets for an evening paseo that can continue past midnight. Lively Madrid has enough street-singing, bar-hopping, and people-watching vitality to give any visitor a boost of youth.
Madrid is worth two days and three nights on even the fastest trip. Divide your time among the city’s top three attractions: the Royal Palace (worth a half-day), the Prado Museum (also worth a half-day), and the bar-hopping contemporary scene. On a Sunday, consider allotting extra time for the flea market (year-round) and/or a bullfight (some Sun in March-mid-Oct; generally daily during San Isidro festival in May-early June).
Note that some sights are closed on Monday, including El Escorial (see next chapter); sights open on Monday include the Prado (open daily), Royal Palace (open daily), and Centro de Arte Reina Sofía (closed Tue).
For good day-trip possibilities from Madrid, see the next two chapters (Northwest of Madrid and Toledo).
Morning: Take a brisk 20-minute good-morning-Madrid walk from Puerta del Sol to the Prado (taking the pedestrianized Calle de las Huertas). Spend the rest of the morning at the Prado.
Afternoon: Enjoy an afternoon siesta in Retiro Park. Then tackle modern art at the Centro de Arte Reina Sofía (Picasso’s Guernica). Ride bus #27 from the Prado out through Madrid’s modern section to Puerta de Europa for a dose of the nontouristy, no-nonsense big city.
Evening: End your day with a progressive tapas dinner at a series of characteristic bars.
Morning: Follow my self-guided walk, which loops to and from Puerta del Sol, with a tour through the Royal Palace in the middle.
Afternoon: Your afternoon is free for other sights, shopping, or a side-trip to the palace at El Escorial (closed Mon). Be out at the magic hour—before sunset—when beautifully lit people fill Madrid.
Evening: Take in a flamenco or zarzuela performance.
Puerta del Sol marks the center of Madrid. No major sight is more than a 20-minute walk or a €6 taxi ride from this central square. Get out your map and frame off Madrid’s historic core: To the west of Puerta del Sol is the Royal Palace. To the east, you’ll find the Prado Museum, along with the Reina Sofía museum. North of Puerta del Sol is Gran Vía, a broad east-west boulevard bubbling with shops and cinemas. Between Gran Vía and Puerta del Sol is a lively pedestrian shopping zone. And southwest of Puerta del Sol is Plaza Mayor, the center of a 17th-century, slow-down-and-smell-the-cobbles district.
This entire historic core around Puerta del Sol—Gran Vía, Plaza Mayor, the Prado, and the Royal Palace—is easily covered on foot. A wonderful chain of pedestrian streets crosses the city east to west, from the Prado to Plaza Mayor (along Calle de las Huertas) and from Puerta del Sol to the Royal Palace (on Calle del Arenal). Stretching north from Gran Vía, Calle de Fuencarral is a trendy shopping and strolling pedestrian street.
Madrid is home to two types of tourist information offices: city TIs run by the Madrid City Council, and regional TIs run by the privately owned Turismo Madrid. Both are helpful, but you’ll get more biased information from Turismo Madrid.
City-run TIs share a website (www.esmadrid.com), a central phone number (tel. 914-544-410), and hours (daily 9:30-20:30); exceptions are noted in the listings below. The best and most central city TI is on Plaza Mayor. They offer several guided walks in English each day (described later, under “Tours in Madrid”). They can also help direct travelers to the nearby foreign tourist assistance office (SATE; see “Helpful Hints” for details).
Madrid’s other city-run TIs are at Plaza de Colón (in the underground passage accessed from Paseo de la Castellana and Calle de Goya), Palacio de Cibeles (inside, up the stairs and to the right, Tue-Sun 10:00-20:00, closed Mon), Plaza de Cibeles (at Paseo del Prado), Plaza de Calloa (at Calle de Preciados), and Paseo del Arte (on Calle Santa Isabel, near Reina Sofía museum). During the busy summer months, the city council deploys high-tech mobile TIs to major sites around town. Travelers will find city TIs at the airport (Terminals 2 and 4, daily 9:00-20:00).
Regional Turismo Madrid TIs share a website (www.turismomadrid.es) and are located near the Prado Museum (Duque de Medinaceli, across from Palace Hotel, Mon-Fri 8:00-15:00, closed Sat-Sun), Chamartín train station (near track 20, Mon-Sat 8:00-20:00, Sun 9:00-14:00), and Atocha train station (AVE side, Mon-Sat 8:00-20:00, Sun 9:00-20:00). There are also regional TIs at the airport (Terminals 1 and 4, Mon-Sat 9:00-20:00, Sun 9:00-14:00).
At most TIs, you can pick up a map and the Es Madrid English-language monthly, which lists events around town. TIs occasionally distribute the Guía del Ocio (described later) for free; just ask. You’ll also find a free, well-designed Public Transport map that includes detailed transportation routes throughout the city center. Get this and use it.
Sightseeing Pass: Very energetic travelers can save a little money and some valuable sightseeing time by buying the Madrid Card. It covers more than 50 sights (including the Royal Palace, Prado, Thyssen-Bornemisza, and Reina Sofía) and lets you skip lines—a definite plus in high season, especially at the palace and the Prado. Additionally, the pass covers the Bernabéu Stadium tour, all the Essential Madrid tours, and it’s good for a 10 percent discount at El Corte Inglés. The three-day card is the best bargain (€64; other options include €44/24 hours and €54/48 hours, online discounts available, www.madridcard.com). You can pay extra to add the hop-on, hop-off bus tour (saves a maximum of €2) or public transport (only worthwhile if you ride multiple times a day).
Entertainment Guides: For arts and culture listings, the TI’s printed material is not very good. Pick up the Spanish-language weekly entertainment guide Guía del Ocio (€1, sold at newsstands, sometimes free at TI) or check their complete website: www.guiadelocio.com. It lists daily live music (“Conciertos”), museums (under “Arte”—with the latest times, prices, and special exhibits), restaurants (an exhaustive listing), TV schedules, and movies (“V.O.” means original version, “V.O. en inglés sub” means a movie is played in English with Spanish subtitles rather than dubbed).
Helpful Website: While not officially part of the TI, www.madridman.com is run with passion by American Scott Martin and offers tips on sightseeing, hotels, restaurants, and more.
For more information on arriving at or departing from Madrid’s airport, train stations, and bus stations, see “Madrid Connections,” at the end of this chapter.
Madrid’s two train stations, Chamartín and Atocha, are both on Metro lines with easy access to downtown Madrid. Chamartín handles most international trains and the AVE (AH-vay) train to and from Segovia. Atocha generally covers southern Spain, as well as the AVE trains to and from Barcelona, Córdoba, Sevilla, and Toledo. For details on both stations, see here.
Traveling Between Chamartín and Atocha Stations: You can take the Metro (line 1, 30-40 minutes, €1.50; see “Getting Around Madrid” on here), but the cercanías trains are faster (6/hour, 13 minutes, Atocha-Sol-Chamartín lines C3 and C4 are the most convenient, €1.50, free with railpass or any regular train ticket to Madrid—show it at ticket window in the middle of the turnstiles, depart from Atocha’s track 6 and generally Chamartín’s track 1, 3, 8, or 9—but check the Salidas Inmediatas board to be sure).
Madrid has several bus stations, each one handy to a Metro station: Príncipe Pío (for Segovia, Metro: Príncipe Pío); Estación Sur de Autobuses (for Ávila, Salamanca, and Granada; Metro: Méndez Álvaro); Plaza Elíptica (for Toledo, Metro: Plaza Elíptica); Moncloa (for El Escorial, Metro: Moncloa); and Avenida de América (for Pamplona and Burgos, Metro: Avenida de América). If you take a taxi from the station to your hotel, you’ll pay an extra €5.50 supplement. For more on bus connections, see here.
Both international and domestic flights arrive at Madrid’s Barajas Airport. Options for getting into town include public bus, cercanías train, Metro, taxi, and minibus shuttle. For details, see here.
Theft Alert: Be wary of pickpockets—anywhere, anytime. Areas of particular risk are Puerta del Sol (the central square), El Rastro (the flea market), Gran Vía (the paseo zone: Plaza del Callao to Plaza de España), the Ópera Metro station (or anywhere on the Metro), bus #27, the airport, and any crowded street. Be alert to the people around you: Someone wearing a heavy jacket in the summer is likely a pickpocket. Lately, teenagers dress like Americans and work the areas around the three big art museums; being under 18, they can’t be charged in any meaningful way by the police. Assume any fight or commotion is a scam to distract people about to become victims of a pickpocket. Wear your money belt. For help if you get ripped off, see the next listing.
Tourist Emergency Aid: SATE is an assistance service for tourists who might need, for any reason, to visit a police station or lodge a complaint. Help ranges from canceling stolen credit cards to assistance in reporting a crime (central police station, daily 9:00-24:00, near Plaza de Santo Domingo at Calle Leganitos 19). They can help you get to the police station and will even act as an interpreter if you have trouble communicating with the police. Or you can call in your report to the SATE line (24-hour tel. 902-102-112, English spoken once you get connected to a person), then go to the police station (where they’ll likely speak only Spanish) to sign your statement.
You may see a police station in the Sol Metro station; this office handles only Metro theft.
Prostitution: Diverse by European standards, Madrid is spilling over with immigrants from South America, North Africa, and Eastern Europe. Many young women come here, fall on hard times, and end up on the streets. While it’s illegal to make money from someone else selling sex (i.e., pimping), prostitutes over 18 can solicit legally (€30, FYI). Calle de la Montera (leading from Puerta del Sol to Plaza Red de San Luis) is lined with what looks like a bunch of high-school girls skipping out of school for a cigarette break. Again, don’t stray north of Gran Vía around Calle de la Luna and Plaza Santa María Soledad—while the streets may look inviting, this area is a meat-eating flower.
One-Stop Shopping: The dominant department store is El Corte Inglés, which takes up several huge buildings in the commercial pedestrian zone just off Puerta del Sol (Mon-Sat 10:00-22:00, Sun 11:00-21:00, navigate with the help of the info desk near the door of the main building—the tallest building with the biggest sign, a block off Puerta del Sol, Preciados 3, tel. 913-798-000). They give out good, free Madrid maps. In the main building, you’ll find two handy travel agencies (see listing later), a post office, souvenirs, a modern cafeteria (seventh floor), and a supermarket with a fancy “Club del Gourmet” section (with edible souvenirs) in the basement. Across the street is its Librería branch—a huge bookstore with English-language guidebooks. The second building fronting Puerta del Sol contains six floors of music, computers, home electronics, and SIM cards for mobile phones (passport required, second floor), with a box office on the top floor selling tickets to whatever’s on in town. Locals figure you’ll find anything you need at El Corte Inglés. Salespeople wear flag pins indicating which languages they can speak. If doing any serious shopping here, look into their discounts (10 percent for tourists) and VAT refund policy (21 percent but with a minimum purchase requirement; see here for details).
Free Sights: The Prado is free every evening (Mon-Sat 18:00-20:00, Sun 17:00-19:00), the Reina Sofía museum has free hours every night but Tuesday, when it’s closed (Mon and Wed-Sat 19:00-21:00, Sun 15:00-19:00), the Thyssen-Bornemisza is free on Monday afternoons (12:00-16:00), and the Museum of the Americas is free on Sunday. These Madrid sights are always free: Hermitage of San Antonio de la Florida, Bullfighting Museum, Caja Madrid, and the Temple of Debod.
Internet Access: Most hotels offer Wi-Fi and a guest computer in the lobby for those without a mobile device. Any locutorio call center should have a few computers and is generally the cheapest Internet option in the neighborhood. Near the Puerta del Sol, Workcenter has plenty of terminals and is a productive place to kill time if you’re waiting for the tapas-crawl action to heat up (Mon-Fri 8:00-21:00, Sat-Sun 10:00-14:30 & 17:00-20:30, Calle Sevilla 4—see map on here, tel. 913-601-395).
Bookstores: For books in English, try FNAC Callao (Calle Preciados 28, tel. 902-100-632), Casa del Libro (English on ground floor, Gran Vía 29, tel. 902-026-402), and El Corte Inglés (guidebooks and some fiction, in its Librería branch kitty-corner from main store, fronting Puerta del Sol—see “One-Stop Shopping,” earlier).
Laundry: Ask your hotelier if they have laundry service. Or try Higiensec, which offers self-service laundry (€7/load to wash, a few euros more to dry) as well as drop-off laundry service and dry cleaning (Mon-Sat 9:00-21:00, closed Sun, between Calle del Arenal and Calle Mayor at Plaza de Herradores 8—see map on here, tel. 915-428-492). LavaMatic, near Plaza Santa Ana and my suggested tapas crawl, offers self-service laundry (€6.50/load to wash and dry). Arrive early as they tend to be busy mid-afternoon (Mon-Fri 8:00-22:00, Sat-Sun 8:00-21:00, Calle de la Cruz 35—see map on here).
Travel Agencies: The grand department store El Corte Inglés has two travel agencies (air and rail tickets, but not reservations for railpass holders, €2 fee, on first and seventh floors, for hours and contact info see “One-Stop Shopping,” earlier). These are a fast and easy place to buy AVE and other train tickets.
Updates to This Book: For news about changes to this book’s coverage since it was published, see www.ricksteves.com/update.
(See “Madrid Metro” map, here.)
If you want to use Madrid’s excellent public transit, pick up the fine Public Transport map/flier (free, available at TIs or at Metro info booths in most stations—near the entrance turnstiles). The metropolitan Madrid transit website (www.ctm-madrid.es) covers all public transportation options (Metro, bus, and suburban rail).
By Metro: The city’s broad streets can be hot and exhausting. A subway trip of even a stop or two saves time and energy. Madrid’s Metro is simple, speedy, and cheap. It costs €1.50 for a ride within zone A, which covers most of the city, but not trains out to the airport. The 10-ride, €12 Metrobus ticket can be shared by several travelers and works on both the Metro and buses. Buy tickets in the Metro (from easy-to-use machines or ticket booths), at newspaper stands, or at Estanco tobacco shops. Insert your ticket in the turnstile, then retrieve it and pass through. The Metro stops running at 1:30 in the morning and resumes operation at 6:00. At all times, be alert to thieves, who thrive in crowded stations.
Study your Metro map—the simplified map on the opposite page can get you started. The lines are color-coded and numbered; use end-of-the-line station names to choose your direction of travel. Once in the Metro station, signs direct you to the train line and direction (e.g., Linea 1, Valdecarros). To transfer, follow signs in the station leading to connecting lines. Once you reach your final stop, look for the green salida signs pointing to the exits. Use the helpful neighborhood maps to choose the right salida, and save yourself lots of walking. Metro info: www.metromadrid.es.
By Bus: City buses, though not as easy as the Metro, can be useful (€1.50 tickets sold on bus, €12 for a 10-ride Metrobus ticket, bus maps at TI or info booth on Puerta del Sol, poster-size maps usually posted at bus stops, buses run 6:00-24:00, much less frequent Buho buses run all night). Bus info: www.emtmadrid.es.
By Taxi: Madrid’s 15,000 taxis are reasonably priced and easy to hail. A green light on the roof indicates that a taxi is available. Foursomes travel as cheaply by taxi as by Metro. For example, a ride from the Royal Palace to the Prado costs about €6. After the €2.10 drop charge, the per-kilometer rate depends on the time: Tarifa 1 (€1/kilometer) is charged Mon-Fri 6:00-21:00; Tarifa 2 (€1.17/kilometer) is valid after 21:00 and on Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays. If your cabbie uses anything other than Tarifa 1 on weekdays (shown as an isolated “1” on the meter), you’re being cheated. Rates can be higher if you go outside Madrid. Other legitimate charges include the €5.50 supplement for the airport, the €5.50 supplement for leaving any train or bus station, and €20 per hour for waiting. Make sure the meter is turned on as soon as you get into the cab so the driver can’t tack anything onto the official rate. If the driver starts adding up “extras,” look for the sticker detailing all legitimate surcharges (which should be on the passenger window).
The Plaza Mayor TI organizes a daily schedule of cheap, interesting guided walks. Tours depart from this TI most days at 12:00, 16:00, and 18:00 (€5.90, 20 percent discount for booking all three tours, 1.5-2 hours, in English only). Check their detailed booklet or online for specifics and departure times, which change frequently (www.esmadrid.com). Groups can be very small, so you almost feel like you have a private guide. Buy your ticket at the TI, over the phone at 902-221-424, or online at www.entradas.com (search for “Essential Madrid”). Tours can fill up in high season, so booking at least a few hours in advance is a good idea.
Two different hop-on, hop-off circuits cover the city: historic and modern. Buy a ticket from the driver (€21/1 day, €25/2 days), and you can hop from sight to sight and route to route as you like, listening to a recorded English commentary along the way. Each route has about 15 stops and takes about 1.5 hours, with buses departing every 10 or 20 minutes. The two routes intersect at the south side of Puerta del Sol and in front of Starbucks across from the Prado (daily 9:30-24:00 in summer, 10:00-19:00 in winter, tel. 917-791-888, www.autobusturisticomadrid.com).
Carlos Galvin, a Spaniard who led tours for my groups for more than a decade, and his wife from Seattle, Jennifer, run Letango Tours, offering itineraries within Madrid and beyond. Their “Madrid Discoveries” tour, mixing a market walk and history with a culinary-and-tapas introduction, gets you close to the Madrileños and their culture (3 hours, €225/group, up to 5 people). Carlos and Jennifer also offer customized tours (whether city, regional, or country-wide) and bookings anywhere in Spain (mobile 655-818-740 and 661-752-458, www.letangospaintours.com, tours@letango.com).
Madrid Audio Walks, run by Nygil Murrell, offers both live-guided walks and tours (including a €15 walk through historic Madrid, a €25 or €50 wine-tasting, and a €55 or €80 tapas tour) and downloadable audio tours for self-guided walks ($8). Nygil’s blog is loaded with insightful and beautifully photographed stories of Madrid life from an American expat’s perspective (mobile 620-883-900, www.madridaudiowalks.com, nmurrell@madridaudiowalks.com).
Madrid Museum Tours, led by Hernán Amaya Satt and his expert team, organizes more than 40 itineraries, including five different Prado tours, a gossip-filled “secrets of Madrid” walk, and activities around the city and beyond (€158/3 hours, mobile 680-450-231, www.madridmuseumtours.com, info@madridmuseumtours.com). Rick Steves readers get a 20 percent discount on all weekday tours (prices go up about 20 percent on weekends and holidays; transportation and admission costs not included).
Frederico, Cristina, and their team are licensed guides who lead city walks through Madrid. They specialize in family tours of Madrid (prices per group: €155/2 hours, €195/4 hours, €235/6 hours) and to nearby towns (with public or private transit, tel. 913-102-974, mobile 649-936-222, www.spainfred.com, spainfred@gmail.com).
Stephen Drake-Jones, a British expat, leads walks of historic old Madrid almost daily (12:00 and 20:00). A historian with a passion for the Duke of Wellington (the general who stopped Napoleon), Stephen founded Madrid’s Wellington Society and has been its chairman for over 30 years. For €65, you become a member and get a 3.5-hour tour with three stops for drinks and tapas (€10 more for fine wines). On his themed tours, eccentric Stephen sorts out Madrid’s Habsburg and Bourbon history, plus the Spanish Civil War and Hemingway’s Madrid. He likes wine, a lot—if that’s a problem, skip the tour (for details on his other tours, see www.wellsoc.org; mobile 609-143-203, chairman@wellsoc.org).
Other good licensed local guides include: Inés Muñiz Martin (a third-generation Madrileña, €110-180/2-5 hours, 25 percent more on weekends and holidays, mobile 629-147-370, www.immguidedtours.com, info@immguidedtours.com), and Susana Jarabo (with a master’s in art history, €200/4 hours; extra rental charge to tour by bike, scooter, or Segway; mobile 667-027-722, susanjarabo@yahoo.es).
Julià Travel leads standard guided bus tours departing from Plaza de España 7 (office open Mon-Fri 8:00-19:00, Sat-Sun 8:00-15:00, tel. 915-599-605). Their city offerings include a 2.5-hour Madrid tour with a live guide in two or three languages (€23, one stop for a drink at Hard Rock Café, one shopping stop, no museum visits, daily at 9:00 and 15:00, no reservation required—just show up 15 minutes before departure). Julià Travel also runs day trips to El Escorial and the Valley of the Fallen (€57, 5 hours, Tue-Sun at 8:45, none Mon) and Toledo (€47/5 hours, daily at 8:45 and 15:00; €63/8 hours, daily at 9:00). Combination tours include Madrid and Toledo (€61, half-day in Toledo plus 3-hour Madrid tour, daily at 8:45) and Toledo plus El Escorial/Valley of the Fallen (€92, full day, Tue-Sun at 9:00, none Mon). Note that just the eight-hour Toledo-only tour includes the cathedral, while the half-day Toledo and combo-tours skip this town’s one must-see sight...but not the long shopping stops (the shops give kickbacks to the guides). See their website for other tours and services (www.juliatravel.com).
A ride on public bus #27 from the Prado Museum up Paseo del Prado and the Paseo de la Castellana to the Puerta de Europa and back gives visitors a glimpse of the modern side of Madrid (see here), while a ride on electric minibus #M1 takes you through the characteristic, gritty old center (see here).
Puerta del Sol to Royal Palace Loop
Map: Puerta del Sol to Royal Palace Loop
Church and Convent of Corpus Christi
Almudena Cathedral (Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Almudena)
(See “Puerto del Sol to Royal Palace Loop” map, here.)
Madrid’s historic center is pedestrian-friendly and filled with spacious squares, a trendy market, bulls’ heads in a bar, and a cookie-dispensing convent. Allow about two hours for this mile-long triangular walk. You’ll start and finish on Madrid’s central square, Puerta del Sol (Metro: Sol).
• Head to the middle of the square, by the equestrian statue of King Charles III, and survey the scene.
The bustling Puerta del Sol is Madrid’s—and Spain’s—center. It’s a hub for the Metro, cercanías (local) trains, revelers, protestors, and pickpockets. In recent years it has undergone a facelift to become a mostly pedestrianized, wide-open space. Nearly traffic-free, it’s a popular site for political demonstrations. Don’t be surprised if you come across a large, peaceful protest here.
The equestrian statue in the middle of the square honors King Charles III (1716-1788) whose enlightened urban policies earned him the affectionate nickname “the best mayor of Madrid.” He decorated the city squares with beautiful fountains, got those meddlesome Jesuits out of city government, established the public school system, mandated underground sewers, opened his private Retiro park to the general public, built the Prado, made the Royal Palace the wonder of Europe, and generally cleaned up Madrid. (For more on Charles, see here.)
Head to the uphill end of the square and find the statue of a bear pawing a tree—a symbol of Madrid since medieval times. Bears used to live in the royal hunting grounds outside the city. And the madroño trees produce a berry that makes the traditional madroño liqueur. Near the statue, locate the Metro entrance and the glass-fish entrance to the cercanías trains.
Charles III faces a red-and-white building with a bell tower. This was Madrid’s first post office, founded by Charles III in the 1760s. Today it’s the county governor’s office (Residencia de la Comunidad de Madrid), home to the president who governs greater Madrid. The building is notorious for having once been dictator Francisco Franco’s police headquarters. An amazing number of those detained and interrogated by the Franco police tried to “escape” by jumping out its windows to their deaths. Notice the hats of the civil guardsmen at the entry. It’s said the hats have square backs, cleverly designed so that the men can lean against the wall while enjoying a cigarette.
Appreciate the harmonious architecture of the buildings that circle the square—yellow-cream, four stories, balconies of iron, shuttered windows, and balustrades along the rooflines (with TV antennas on top).
Crowds fill the square on New Year’s Eve as the rest of Spain watches the Times Square-style action on TV. The bell atop the governor’s office chimes 12 times, while Madrileños eat one grape for each ring to bring good luck through each of the next 12 months.
• Cross the square, walking to the governor’s office.
Look at the curb directly in front of the entrance to the governor’s office. The marker is “kilometer zero,” the symbolic center of Spain (with its six main highways indicated). Standing on the zero marker with your back to the governor’s office, get oriented visually: At twelve o’clock (straight ahead), notice how the pedestrian commercial zone (with the huge El Corte Inglés department store) is thriving. At one o’clock starts the seedier Calle de la Montera, a street with shady characters and prostitutes that leads to the trendy, pedestrianized Calle de Fuencarral. At three o’clock, the biggest Apple Store in Europe is set to open in late 2013; the Prado is about a mile farther to your right. At ten o’clock, you’ll see the pedestrianized Calle del Arenal Street (which leads to the Royal Palace) dumping into this square...just where you will end this walk.
Near the entrance to the governor’s office are two plaques tied to important dates, expressing thanks from the regional government to its citizens for assisting in times of dire need. To the left of the entry, a plaque on the wall honors those who helped during the terrorist bombings of March 11, 2004 (we have our 9/11—Spain commemorates its 3/11). A similar plaque on the right marks the spot where the war against Napoleon started in 1808. When Napoleon invaded Spain and tried to appoint his brother (rather than the Spanish heir) as king of Spain, an angry crowd gathered outside this building. The French soldiers attacked and simply massacred the mob. Painter Francisco de Goya, who worked just up the street, observed the event and captured the tragedy in his paintings Second of May, 1808 and Third of May, 1808, now in the Prado.
On the corner of Calle Mayor and Puerta del Sol (downhill end of Puerta del Sol, across from McDonald’s) is the busy confitería La Mallorquina, “fundada en 1.894” (daily 9:00-21:00, closed mid-July-Aug). Go inside for a tempting peek at racks with goodies hot out of the oven. Enjoy observing the churning energy at the bar lined with Madrileños popping in for a fast coffee and a sweet treat. The shop is famous for its cream-filled Napolitana pastry (€1.20). Or sample Madrid’s answer to doughnuts, rosquillas (tontas means “silly”—plain, and listas means “all dressed up and ready to go”—with icing, about €0.50 each). The room upstairs is more genteel, with nice views of the square. Buy a pastry. (Even if you don’t finish it, there’s always a beggar outside who’d love to.)
From inside the shop, look back toward the entrance and notice the tile above the door with the 18th-century view of Puerta del Sol. Compare this with today’s view out the door. This was before the square was widened, when a church stood at its top end.
Puerta del Sol (“Gate of the Sun”) is named for a long-gone gate, with the rising sun carved onto it, that once stood at the eastern edge of the old city. From here, we begin our walk through the historic town that dates back to medieval times.
• Head west on busy Calle Mayor, just past McDonald’s, and veer left up the pedestrian alley called...
The street sign shows the post coach heading for that famous first post office. Medieval street signs included pictures so the illiterate (and monolingual tourists) could “read” them. Fifty yards up the street on the left, at Calle San Cristóbal, is Pans & Company, a popular Catalan sandwich chain offering lots of healthy choices. While Spaniards consider American fast food unhealthy—both culturally and physically—they love it. McDonald’s and Burger King are thriving in Spain.
• Continue up Calle de Postas, and take a slight right on Calle de la Sal through the arcade, where you emerge into...
This square is a vast, cobbled, traffic-free chunk of 17th-century Spain. In medieval times, this was the city’s main square. The equestrian statue (wearing a ruffled collar) honors Philip III, who (in 1619) transformed the medieval marketplace into a Baroque plaza. The square is 140 yards long and 102 yards wide, enclosed by three-story buildings with symmetrical windows, balconies, slate roofs, and steepled towers. Each side of the square is uniform, as if a grand palace were turned inside-out. This distinct “look,” pioneered by architect Juan de Herrera (who finished El Escorial), is found all over Madrid.
This site served as the city’s 17th-century open-air theater. Upon this stage, much Spanish history has been played out: bullfights, fires, royal pageantry, and events of the gruesome Inquisition. Worn-down reliefs on the seatbacks under the lampposts tell the story. During the Inquisition, many were tried here—suspected heretics, Protestants, Jews, tour guides without a local license, and Muslims whose “conversion” to Christianity was dubious. The guilty were paraded around the square before their executions, wearing billboards listing their many sins (bleachers were built for bigger audiences, while the wealthy rented balconies). The heretics were burned, and later, criminals were slowly strangled as they held a crucifix, hearing the reassuring words of a priest as this life was squeezed out of them with a garrote.
The square’s buildings are mainly private apartments. Want one? Costs run from €400,000 for a tiny attic studio to €2 million and up for a 2,500-square-foot flat. The square is painted a democratic shade of burgundy—the result of a citywide vote. Since the end of decades of dictatorship in 1975, there’s been a passion for voting here. Three different colors were painted as samples on the walls of this square, and the city voted for its favorite.
A stamp-and-coin market bustles at Plaza Mayor on Sundays (10:00-14:00). The Casa Yustas shop at #30 (in the northeast corner) has been making hats here since 1894.
The building to Philip’s left, on the north side beneath the twin towers, was once home to the baker’s guild and now houses the TI. It’s wonderfully air-conditioned and offers cheap daily walking tours. Consider reserving a spot now (for details, see “Tours in Madrid,” earlier).
Day or night, Plaza Mayor is a colorful place to enjoy an affordable cup of coffee or overpriced food. Throughout Spain, lesser plazas mayores provide peaceful pools in the whitewater river of Spanish life.
• For some interesting, if gruesome, bullfighting lore, drop by...
This bar is a good place to finish off your Plaza Mayor visit (north side of the square at #26, a few doors to the left of the TI). The bar has Andalú (Andalusian) ambience and an entertaining staff. Step inside, stand at the bar, and order a drink—a caña (small draft beer) shouldn’t cost more than €2. Warning: They may push expensive tapas on tourists. The price list posted outside the door makes your costs perfectly clear: “barra” indicates the price at the bar; “terraza” is the price at an outdoor table.
The interior is a temple to bullfighting, festooned with gory decor. Notice the breathtaking action captured in the many photographs. Look under the stuffed head of Barbero the bull. At eye level you’ll see a puntilla, the knife used to put poor Barbero out of his misery at the arena. The plaque explains: weight, birth date, owner, date of death, which matador killed him, and the location. Just to the left of Barbero, there’s a photo of longtime dictator Franco with the famous bullfighter Manuel Benítez Pérez—better known as El Cordobés, the Elvis of bullfighters and a working-class hero. At the top of the stairs to the WC, find the photo of El Cordobés and Robert Kennedy—looking like brothers. Under them is a shot of Che Guevara enjoying a bullfight.
At the end of the bar, in a glass case, is the “suit of lights” the great El Cordobés wore in an ill-fated 1967 fight, in which the bull gored him. El Cordobés survived; the bull didn’t. Find the photo of Franco with El Cordobés at the far end, to the left of Segador the bull. Under the bull (to the left, over the counter) is a photo of El Cordobés’ illegitimate son kissing a bull. Disowned by El Cordobés senior, yet still using his dad’s famous name after a court battle, the junior El Cordobés is one of this generation’s top fighters.
Back in the case with the “suit of lights,” notice the photo of a matador (not El Cordobés) horrifyingly hooked by a bull’s horn. For a series of photos showing this episode (and the same matador healed afterwards), look to the left of Barbero back by the door.
Consider taking a break at one of Torre del Oro’s sidewalk tables (or at any café/bar terrace facing Madrid’s grandest square). Cafetería Margerit (nearby) occupies the sunniest corner of the square and is a good place to enjoy a coffee with the view. The scene is easily worth the extra euro you’ll pay for the drink.
• Leave Plaza Mayor on Calle de Ciudad Rodrigo (at the northwest corner of the square), passing a series of solid turn-of-the-20th-century storefronts and sandwich joints, such as Casa Rúa, famous for their cheap bocadillos de calamares—fried squid rings on a roll. Emerging from the arcade, turn left and head downhill toward the covered market hall.
To wash down those calamares in a more refined setting, pop into the Mercado de San Miguel (daily 10:00-24:00, later on weekends). This historic iron-and-glass structure from 1916 stands on the site of an even earlier marketplace. Renovated in the 21st century, it now hosts some 30 high-end vendors of fresh produce, gourmet foods, wines by the glass, tapas, and full meals. Locals and tourists alike pause here for its food, natural-light ambience, and social scene.
Alongside the market, look down the street called Cava de San Miguel. If you like singing and sangria, come back after 22:00 and visit one of the mesones that line the street. These cave-like bars, stretching far back from the street, get packed with Madrileños out on dates who—emboldened by sangria and the setting—are prone to suddenly breaking out in song. It’s a lowbrow, electric-keyboard, karaoke-type ambience, best on Friday and Saturday nights. The odd shape of these bars isn’t a contrivance for the sake of atmosphere—Plaza Mayor was built on a slope, and these underground vaults are part of a structural system that braces the leveled plaza.
• From the front of the market, continue west a few steps, then turn left, heading downhill on Calle del Conde de Miranda. At the first corner, turn right and cross the small plaza to the brick church in the far corner.
The proud coats of arms over the main entry announce the rich family that built this Hieronymite church and convent in 1607. In 17th-century Spain, the most prestigious thing a noble family could do was build and maintain a convent. To harvest all the goodwill created in your community, you’d want your family’s insignia right there for all to see. (You can see the donating couple, like a 17th-century Bill and Melinda, kneeling before the communion wafer in the central panel over the entrance.) Inside is a quiet oasis with a Last Supper altarpiece.
Now for a unique shopping experience. A half-block uphill from the church entrance is its associated convent—it’s the big brown door on the left, at Calle del Codo 3 (Mon-Sat 9:30-13:00 & 16:00-18:30, closed Sun). The sign reads: Venta de Dulces (Sweets for Sale). To buy goodies from the cloistered nuns, buzz the monjas button, then wait patiently for the sister to respond over the intercom. Say “dulces” (DOOL-thays), and she’ll let you in. When the lock buzzes, push open the door and follow the sign to the torno, the lazy Susan that lets the sisters sell their baked goods without being seen. Scan the menu, announce your choice to the sequestered sister, place your money on the torno, and your goodies (and change) will appear. Of the many choices listed, galletas (shortbread cookies) are the least expensive (a medio-kilo costs about €8). Or try the pastas de almendra (almond cookies).
• Continue uphill on Calle del Codo (where those in need of bits of armor shopped—see the street sign) and turn left, heading toward the Plaza de la Villa (pictured here). Before entering the square, notice an old door to the left of the Real Sociedad Económica sign, made of wood lined with metal. This is considered the oldest door in town on Madrid’s oldest building—inhabited since 1480. It’s set in a Moorish keyhole arch. Look up at what was a prison tower. Now continue into the square called Plaza de la Villa, dominated by Madrid’s...
The impressive structure features Madrid’s distinctive architectural style—symmetrical square towers, topped with steeples and a slate roof. The building still functions as Madrid’s ceremonial Town Hall, though the city council and hands-on duties have moved elsewhere. Over the doorway, the three coats of arms sport many symbols of Madrid’s rulers: Habsburg crowns, castles of Castile, and (the shield on the left) the city symbol—the berry-eating bear. This square was the ruling center of medieval Madrid, a tiny remnant of the 14th-century town. Even before then, when Madrid was an Arab-Moorish community, this was the only square in town.
Imagine how Philip II took this city by surprise in 1651 when he decided to move the capital of Europe’s largest empire (even bigger than ancient Rome at the time) from Toledo to humble Madrid. To better administer their empire, the Habsburgs went on a building spree. But because their empire was drained of its riches by prolonged religious wars, they built Madrid with cheap brick instead of elegant granite.
The statue in the garden is of Philip II’s admiral, Don Alvaro de Bazán—mastermind of the Christian victory over the Turkish Ottomans at the naval battle of Lepanto in 1571. This pivotal battle, fought off the coast of Greece, slowed the Ottoman threat to Christian Europe. However, mere months after Bazán’s death in 1588, his “invincible” Spanish Armada was destroyed by England...and Spain’s empire began its slow fade.
• From here, busy Calle Mayor leads downhill toward the Royal Palace.
Two blocks down Calle Mayor (at #75, on the left, next to a venerable bakery), a real-estate office (inmobiliaria) advertises apartments and condos. Places for rent (alquilar), priced by the month, are in the hundreds or low thousands of euros. Those for sale (venta) have six-digit prices. To roughly convert square meters to square feet, multiply by 10.
A few steps farther down, on a tiny square, a statue memorializes a 1906 assassination attempt. The target was Spain’s King Alfonso XIII and his bride, Victoria Eugenie, as they paraded by on their wedding day. While the crowd was throwing flowers, an anarchist (what terrorists used to be called) threw a bouquet lashed to a bomb from a balcony at #84 (across the street). He missed the royal newlyweds, but killed 23 people. Gory photos of the event hang inside the recommended Casa Ciriaco restaurant, which now occupies #84 (photos to the right of the entrance). The king and queen went on to live to a ripe old age, producing many grandchildren, including today’s King Juan Carlos.
• Continue down Calle Mayor one more block to a busy street, Calle de Bailén. Take in the big, domed...
Madrid’s massive, gray-and-white cathedral (110 yards long and 80 yards high) opened in 1993, 100 years after workers started building it. This is the side entrance for tourists (€1 donation requested). The main entrance (selling €6 museum-and-cupola tickets) is a block north, facing the Royal Palace. If you go inside, you’ll see a refreshingly modern and colorful ceiling, a glittering 5,000-pipe organ, and a grand 15th-century painted altarpiece—striking in the otherwise Neo-Gothic interior. The highlight is the 12th-century coffin (empty, painted leather on wood, in a chapel behind the altar) of Madrid’s patron saint, Isidro. A humble farmer, the exceptionally devout Isidro was said to have been helped by angels who did the plowing for him while he prayed. Forty years after he died, this coffin was opened, and his body was found to have been miraculously preserved. This convinced the pope to canonize Isidro as the patron saint of Madrid and of farmers, with May 15 as his feast day.
Turn right on Calle de Bailén to reach the main entrance. The doors feature reliefs of the cathedral’s 1993 consecration, including one with Pope John Paul II, King Juan Carlos, and Queen Sofía.
• From the cathedral’s front steps, face the imposing...
Since the ninth century, this spot has been Madrid’s center of power: from Moorish castle to Christian fortress to Renaissance palace to the current structure, built in the 18th century. With its expansive courtyard surrounded by imposing Baroque architecture, it represents the wealth of Spain before its decline. Its 2,800 rooms, totaling nearly 1.5 million square feet, make it Europe’s largest palace.
• You could visit the palace now, using my self-guided tour (see here). Or, to follow the rest of this walk back to Puerta del Sol, continue one long block north up Calle de Bailén (walking alongside the palace) to where the street opens up into...
As its name suggests, this square faces east. The grand yet people-friendly plaza is typical of today’s Europe, where energetic governments are converting car-congested wastelands into public spaces like this. A recent mayor of Madrid earned the nickname “The Mole” for all the digging he did. Where’s the traffic? Under your feet.
Notice the quiet. You’re surrounded by more than three million people, yet you can hear the birds, bells, and fountain. The park is decorated with statues of Visigothic kings who ruled from the third to seventh century. Romans allowed them to administer their province of Hispania on the condition that they’d provide food and weapons to the empire. The Visigoths inherited real power after Rome fell, but lost it to invading Moors in 711. The fine bronze equestrian statue of Philip IV (honoring the king who built the Royal Palace) was a striking technical feat in its day, as the horse stood up on its hind legs (possible only with the help of Galileo’s clever calculations and by using the tail for more support). The king faces Madrid’s opera house, the 1,700-seat Royal Theater (Teatro Real), rebuilt in 1997. To your left, in the distance, the once-impressive Madrid Tower skyscraper (460 feet tall, built of concrete in 1957) marks Plaza de España (and the end of my “Gran Vía Tour”—see here).
• Walk along the Royal Theater, on the right side, to the...
This square is marked by a statue of Isabel II, who ruled Spain in the 19th century. Although she’s immortalized here, Isabel had a rocky reign, marked by uprisings and political intrigue. A revolution in 1868 forced her to abdicate, and she lived out her life in exile.
Evidence of Moorish walls turn up in this neighborhood and elsewhere in Madrid. Check out the tactile model in this square: The position of the old Moorish fortress and walls is outlined, with the modern city faintly depicted underneath. Feel it. Notice also the grooved sidewalk you’re standing on—designed for the white canes of people who can’t see. These grooved sidewalks are all over southern Europe, and no one has ever seen anyone using them. (I’m all for heroic measures in the name of accessibility, but if anyone does the pro-rated cost, it would be cheaper to provide private sedan chairs.)
• From here, follow Calle del Arenal, walking gradually uphill. You’re heading straight to Puerta del Sol.
As depicted on the tiled street signs, this was the “street of sand”—where sand was stockpiled during construction. Each cross street is named for a medieval craft that, historically, was plied along that lane (for example, “Calle de Bordadores” means “Street of the Embroiderers”). Wander slowly uphill. As you stroll, imagine this street as a traffic inferno—which it was until the city pedestrianized it a decade ago. Notice also how orderly the side streets are. Where a mess of cars once lodged chaotically on the sidewalks, smart bollards (bolardos) now keep vehicles off the walkways. The fancier facades (such as the former International Hotel at #19) are in the “eclectic” style (Spanish for Historicism—meaning a new interest in old styles) of the late 19th century.
The brick St. Ginès Church (on the right) means temptation to most locals. It marks the turn to the best chocolatería in town. From the uphill corner of the church, look to the end of the lane where—like a high-calorie red-light zone—a neon sign spells out Chocolatería San Ginès...every local’s favorite place for hot chocolate and churros (always open). Also notice the charming bookshop clinging like a barnacle to the wall of the church. It’s been selling books on this spot since 1650.
Next door is the Joy Eslava disco, a former theater famous for operettas in the Gilbert-and-Sullivan days and now a popular club. In Spain, when you’re 18 you can do it all (buy tobacco, drink, drive, serve in the military). This place is an alcohol-free disco for the younger kids until midnight, when it becomes a thriving adult space, with the theater floor and balconies all teeming with clubbers. Their slogan: “Go big or go home.”
Next, at #11, Fútbol House carries team regalia, postcards of today’s stars, official mouthguards, and so on for soccer fans. Many Europeans come to Madrid primarily to see its 80,000-seat Bernabéu soccer stadium. The Starbucks on the next corner (opposite) is popular with young locals for its inviting ambience and American-style muffins, even though the coffee is too tame for many Spaniards.
Kitty-corner from there (at #7) is Ferpal, an old-school deli with an inviting bar and easy takeout options. Wallpapered with ham hocks, it’s famous for selling the finest Spanish cheeses, hams, and other tasty treats. Spanish saffron is half what you’d pay for it back in the US. While they sell quality sandwiches, cheap and ready-made, it’s fun to buy some bread and—after a little tasting—choose a ham or cheese for a memorable picnic or snack. If you’re lucky, you may get to taste a tiny bit of Spain’s best ham (Ibérico de Bellota). Close your eyes and let the taste fly you to a land of very happy acorn-fed pigs.
Across the street, in a little mall (at #8), a lovable mouse cherished by Spanish children is celebrated with a six-inch-tall bronze statue in the lobby. Upstairs is the fanciful Casita Museo de Ratón Pérez (€2.50, daily 11:00-14:00 & 17:00-20:00, Spanish only) with a fun window display. A steady stream of adoring children and their parents pour through here to learn about the wondrous mouse who is Spain’s tooth fairy.
On the other side of the street (#3, opposite Burger King) is Pronovias, a famous Spanish wedding-dress shop that attracts brides-to-be from across Europe. Computer terminals inside let young women virtual-shop for the dress of their dreams.
• You’re just a few steps from where you started this walk, at Puerta del Sol. Back in the square, you’re met by a statue popularly known as La Mariblanca. This mythological Spanish Venus—with Madrid’s coat of arms at her feet—stands tall amid all the modernity, as if protecting the people of this great city.
▲▲▲Royal Palace (Palacio Real)
Map: Madrid’s Museum Neighborhood
▲▲▲Prado Museum (Museo Nacional del Prado)
▲▲Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum (Museo del Arte Thyssen-Bornemisza)
▲Retiro Park (Parque del Buen Retiro)
▲Royal Botanical Garden (Real Jardín Botánico)
Descalzas Royal Monastery (Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales)
▲Museum of the Americas (Museo de América)
▲National Archaeological Museum (Museo Arqueológico Nacional)
Sorolla Museum (Museo Sorolla)
History Museum (Museo de Historia)
▲Clothing Museum (Museo del Traje)
▲Hermitage of San Antonio de la Florida (Ermita de San Antonio de la Florida)
Royal Tapestry Factory (Real Fábrica de Tapices)
This is Europe’s third-greatest palace, after Versailles and Vienna’s Schönbrunn. It has arguably the most sumptuous original interior, packed with tourists and royal antiques.
The palace is the product of many kings over several centuries. Philip II (1527-1598) made a wooden fortress on this site his governing center when he established Madrid as Spain’s capital. When that palace burned down, the current structure was built by King Philip V (1683-1746). Philip V wanted to make it his own private Versailles, to match his French upbringing: He was born in Versailles—the grandson of Louis XIV—and ordered his tapas in French. His son, Charles III (whose statue graces Puerta del Sol), added interior decor in the Italian style, since he’d spent his formative years in Italy. These civilized Bourbon kings were trying to raise Spain to the cultural level of the rest of Europe. They hired foreign artists to oversee construction and established local Spanish porcelain and tapestry factories to copy works done in Paris or Brussels. Over the years, the palace was expanded and enriched, as each Spanish king tried to outdo his predecessor.
Today’s palace is ridiculously super-sized—with 2,800 rooms, tons of luxurious tapestries, a king’s ransom of chandeliers, frescoes by Tiepolo, priceless porcelain, and bronze decor covered in gold leaf. While these days the royal family lives in a mansion a few miles away, this place still functions as the ceremonial palace, used for formal state receptions, royal weddings, and tourists’ daydreams.
Cost and Hours: €10 without a tour, €17 with a one-hour tour (explained later); daily April-Sept 10:00-20:00, Oct-March 10:00-18:00, last entry one hour before closing; tel. 914-548-800, www.patrimonionacional.es. The palace can close for royal functions—call ahead to check.
Crowd-Beating Tips: The palace is most crowded on Wednesdays and Thursdays, when it’s free for locals. On any day, arrive early or go late to avoid lines and crowds. Madrid Card holders get to skip the line: Enter around the right side at the group entry point, a block down, along Calle de Bailén.
Getting There: From Puerta del Sol, walk 15 minutes down the pedestrianized Calle del Arenal. Metro: Ópera.
Tours: You can wander on your own or join a €7 tour. Check the time of the next English-language tour and decide as you buy your ticket; the tours are dry, depart sporadically, and aren’t worth a long wait. The museum guidebook demonstrates a passion for meaningless data. The excellent €4 audioguide is much more interesting.
Services: Free lockers and a WC are just past the ticket booth. Upstairs you’ll find a refreshing air-conditioned cafeteria (with salad bar) and a more serious bookstore with good books on Spanish history.
Photography: Not allowed.
Self-Guided TourYou’ll follow a simple, 24-room, one-way circuit on a single floor. The short English descriptions posted in each room complement what I describe below.
• Buy your ticket, pass through the bookstore, stand in the middle of the vast open-air courtyard, and face the palace entrance.
The Palace Exterior: The palace sports the French-Italian Baroque architecture so popular in the 18th century—heavy columns, classical-looking statues, a balustrade roofline, and false-front entrance. The entire building is made of gray-and-white local stone (very little wood) to prevent the kind of fire that leveled the previous palace. Imagine the place in its heyday, with a courtyard full of soldiers on parade, or a lantern-lit scene of horse carriages arriving for a ball.
• Enter the palace and show your ticket.
The Palace Lobby: In the old days, horse-drawn carriages would drop you off here. Today, stretch limos do the same thing for gala events. (If you’re taking a guided palace tour, this is where you wait to begin.) The modern black bust in the corner is of the current, very popular constitutional monarch—King Juan Carlos I. He’s a “people’s king,” credited with bringing democracy to Spain after 36 years under dictator Franco.
The Grand Stairs: Gazing up the imposing staircase, you can see that Spain’s kings wanted to make a big first impression. Whenever high-end dignitaries arrive, fancy carpets are rolled down the stairs (notice the little metal bar-holding hooks). Begin your ascent, up steps that are intentionally shallow, making your climb slow and regal. Overhead, the white-and-blue ceiling fresco gradually opens up to your view. It shows the Spanish king, sitting on clouds, surrounded by female Virtues.
In 1762, King Charles III invited Europe’s most celebrated palace painter, Giambattista Tiepolo (1696-1770), to decorate three rooms in the newly built palace. Sixty-six-year-old Tiepolo made the trip from Italy with his two well-known sons as assistants. They spent four years atop scaffolding decorating in the fresco technique, troweling plaster on the ceiling and quickly painting it before it dried.
Tiepolo’s translucent ceilings seem to open up to a cloud-filled heaven, where Spanish royals cavort with Greek gods and pudgy cherubs. Tiepolo used every trick to “fool the eye” (trompe l’oeil), creating dizzying skyscapes of figures tumbling at every angle. He mixes 2-D painting with 3-D stucco figures that spill over the picture frame. His colorful, curvaceous ceilings blend seamlessly with the flamboyant furniture of the room below. Tiepolo’s Royal Palace frescoes are often cited as the final flowering of Baroque and Rococo art.
At the first landing, the blue-and-red coat of arms represents Juan Carlos. While dictator Franco chose him to be his successor, J. C. knew Spain was ripe for democracy. Rather than become “Juan the Brief” (as some were nicknaming him), he returned real power to the parliament. You’ll see his (figure) head on the back of the Spanish €1 and €2 coins.
Continue up to the top of the stairs. Before entering the first room, look to the right of the door to find a white marble bust of J. C.’s great-great-g-g-g-great-grandfather Philip V, who began the Bourbon dynasty in Spain in 1700 and had this palace built.
Guard Room: The palace guards used to hang out in this relatively simple room. Notice the two fake doors, added to give the room symmetry. The old clocks—still in working order—are part of a collection of hundreds amassed as a hobby by Spain’s royal family. Throughout the palace, the themes chosen for the ceiling frescoes relate to the function of the room they decorate. In this room, the ceiling fresco is the first we’ll see in a series by the great Venetian painter Giambattista Tiepolo (see sidebar). It depicts the legendary hero Aeneas (in red, with the narrow face of Charles III) standing in the clouds of heaven, gazing up at his mother Venus (with the face of Charles’ own mother).
Notice the carpets in this room. Although much of what you see in the palace dates from the 18th century, the carpet on the left (folded over to show the stitching) is new, from 1991. It was produced by Madrid’s royal tapestry factory, the same works that made the older original carpet (displayed next to the modern one). Though recently produced, the new carpet was woven the traditional way—by hand. The fine inlaid stone table in this room is important to Spaniards because it was here, in 1985, that the king signed the treaty finalizing Spain’s entry into the European Union.
Hall of Columns: Originally a ballroom and dining room, today this space is used for formal ceremonies and intimate concerts. This is where Spain formally joined the European Union in 1985 (the fancy table used to be in here) and honored its national soccer team after their 2010 World Cup victory. The tapestries (like most you’ll see in the palace) are 17th-century Belgian, from designs by Raphael.
The central theme in the ceiling fresco (by Jaquinto, following Tiepolo’s style) is Apollo driving the chariot of the sun, while Bacchus enjoys wine, women, and song with a convivial gang. This is a reminder that the mark of a good king is to drive the chariot of state as smartly as Apollo, while providing an environment where the people can enjoy life to the fullest.
Throne Room: This room, where the Spanish monarchs preside, is one of the palace’s most glorious. And it holds many of the oldest and most precious things in the palace: silver-and-crystal chandeliers (from Venice’s Murano Island), elaborate lions, and black bronze statues from the fortress that stood here before the 1734 fire. The 12 mirrors, impressively large in their day, each represent a different month.
The throne stands under a gilded canopy, on a raised platform, guarded by four lions (symbols of power found throughout the palace). The coat of arms above the throne shows the complexity of the Bourbon empire across Europe—which, in the 18th century, included Tirol, Sicily, Burgundy, the Netherlands, and more. Though the room was decorated under Charles III (late 18th century), the throne itself dates only from 1977. In Spain, a new throne is built for each king or queen, complete with a gilded portrait on the back. The room’s chairs also indicate the current monarchs—“JC I” and “Sofía.”
Today, this room is where the king’s guests salute Juan Carlos before they move on to dinner. He receives them relatively informally...standing at floor level, rather than seated up on the throne.
The ceiling fresco (1764) is the last great work by Tiepolo (see sidebar), who died in Madrid in 1770. His vast painting (88 × 32 feet) celebrates the vast Spanish empire—upon which the sun also never set. The Greek gods look down from the clouds, overseeing Spain’s empire, whose territories are represented by the people ringing the edges of the ceiling. Find the Native American (hint: follow the rainbow to the macho red-caped conquistador who motions to someone he conquered). From the near end of the room (where tourists stand), look up to admire Tiepolo’s skill at making a pillar seem to shoot straight up into the sky. The pillar’s pedestal has an inscription celebrating Tiepolo’s boss, Charles III (“Carole Magna”). Notice how the painting spills over the gilded wood frame, where 3-D statues recline alongside 2-D painted figures. All of the throne room’s decorations—the fresco, gold garlands, mythological statues, wall medallions—unite in a multimedia extravaganza.
• The next several rooms were the living quarters of King Charles III (r. 1759-1788). First comes his lounge (with red walls), where the king would enjoy the company of a similarly great ruler—the Roman emperor Trajan—depicted “triumphing” on the ceiling. The heroics of Trajan, one of two Roman emperors born in Spain, naturally made the king feel good. Next, you enter the blue-walled...
Antechamber: This was Charles III’s dining room. The four paintings—all originals by Francisco de Goya—are of Charles III’s son and successor, King Charles IV (looking a bit like a dim-witted George Washington), and his wife, María Luisa (who wore the pants in the palace). María Luisa was famously hands-on, tough, and business-like, while Charles IV was pretty wimpy as far as kings go. To meet the demand for his work, Goya made copies of these portraits, which you’ll see in the Prado.
The 12-foot-tall clock—showing Cronus, god of time, in porcelain, bronze, and mahogany—sits on a music box. Reminding us of how time flies, Cronus is shown both as a child and as an old man. The palace’s clocks are wound—and reset—once a week (they grow progressively less accurate as the week goes on). The gilded decor you see throughout the palace is bronze with gold leaf. Velázquez’s famous painting, Las Meninas (which you’ll marvel at in the Prado), originally hung in this room.
Of the many monarchs who’ve enlarged or redecorated the Royal Palace, it was Charles III who set the tone for its Baroque-Rococo interior. Charles’ mother was Italian, and he spent his formative years in Italy. When he became Spain’s king, he brought along sophisticated Italian artists to decorate his new home—the painter Tiepolo, the architect Sabatini, and the decorator Gasparini. They created some of the most elaborate, jaw-dropping rooms tourists see in the palace today.
Charles was an enlightened ruler who tried to reform Spain along democratic principles. He failed. After his death, Spain dwindled into repressive irrelevance. But over the centuries, each of his successors labored to top Charles in ostentatious decoration, making Madrid’s Royal Palace his greatest legacy.
Gasparini Room: (Gasp!) The entire room is designed, top to bottom, as a single gold-green-pink ensemble: from the frescoed ceiling, to the painted stucco figures, silk-embroidered walls, chandelier, furniture, and multicolored marble floor. Each marble was quarried in, and therefore represents, a different region of Spain. Birds overhead spread their wings, vines sprout, and fruit bulges from the surface. With curlicues everywhere (including their reflection in the mirrors), the room dazzles the eye and mind. It’s a triumph of the Rococo style, with exotic motifs such as the Chinese people sculpted into the corners of the ceiling. (These figures, like many in the palace, were formed from stucco, or wet plaster.) The fabric gracing the walls was recently restored. Sixty people spent three years replacing the rotten silk fabric and then embroidering back on the silver, silk, and gold threads.
Note the micro-mosaic table—a typical royal or aristocratic souvenir from any visit to Rome in the mid-1800s. The chandelier, the biggest in the palace, is mesmerizing, especially with its glittering canopy of crystal reflecting in the wall mirrors.
The room was the king’s dressing room. For a divine monarch, dressing was a public affair. The court bigwigs would assemble here as the king, standing on a platform—notice the height of the mirrors—would pull on his leotards and toy with his wig.
• In the next room, the silk wallpaper is from modern times—the intertwined “J. C. S.” indicates King Juan Carlos and Queen Sofía. Pass through the silk room to reach...
Charles III Bedroom: Charles III died here in his bed in 1788. His grandson, Ferdinand VII, redid the room to honor the great man. The room’s blue color scheme recalls the blue-clad monks of Charles’ religious order. A portrait of Charles (in blue) hangs on the wall. The ceiling fresco shows Charles establishing his order, with its various (female) Virtues. At the base of the ceiling (near the harp player) find the baby in his mother’s arms—that would be Ferdy himself, the long-sought male heir, preparing to continue Charles’ dynasty.
The chandelier is in the shape of the fleur-de-lis (the symbol of the Bourbon family) capped with a Spanish crown. As you exit the room, notice the thick walls between rooms. These hid service corridors for servants, who scurried about mostly unseen.
Porcelain Room: This tiny but lavish room is paneled with green-white-gold porcelain garlands, vines, babies, and mythological figures. The entire ensemble was disassembled for safety during the civil war. (Find the little screws in the greenery that hides the seams between panels.) Notice the clock in the center with Atlas supporting the world on his shoulders.
Yellow Lounge: This was a study for Charles III. The properly cut crystal of the chandelier shows all the colors of the rainbow. Stand under it, look up, and sway slowly to see the colors glitter. This is not a particularly precious room. But its decor pops because the lights are generally left on. Imagine the entire palace as brilliant as this when fully lit. As you leave the room, look back at the chandelier to notice its design of a temple with a fountain inside.
• Next comes the. . .
Gala Dining Hall: Up to 12 times a year, the king entertains as many as 144 guests at this bowling lane-size table, which can be extended to the length of the room. The parquet floor was the preferred dancing surface when balls were held in this fabulous room. Note the vases from China, the tapestries, and the ceiling fresco depicting Christopher Columbus kneeling before Ferdinand and Isabel, presenting exotic souvenirs and his new, red-skinned friends. Imagine this hall in action when a foreign dignitary dines here. The king and queen preside from the center of the room. Find their chairs (slightly higher than the rest). The tables are set with fine crystal and cutlery (which we’ll see a couple of rooms later). And the whole place glitters as the 15 chandeliers (and their 900 bulbs) are fired up.
• Pass through the next room of coins and medals, known as the Cinema Room because the royal family once enjoyed Sunday afternoons at the movies here. The royal string ensemble played here to entertain during formal dinners. From here, move into the...
Silver Room: Some of this 19th-century silver tableware—knives and forks, bowls, salt and pepper shakers, and the big tureen—is used in the Gala Dining Hall on special occasions. If you look carefully, you can see quirky royal necessities, including a baby’s silver rattle and fancy candle-snuffers.
• Head straight ahead to the...
Crockery and Crystal Rooms: Philip V’s collection of china is the oldest and rarest of the various pieces on display; it came from China before that country was opened to the West. Since Chinese crockery was in such demand, any self-respecting European royal family had to have its own porcelain works (such as France’s Sèvres or Germany’s Meissen) to produce high-quality knockoffs (and cutesy Hummel-like figurines). The porcelain technique itself was kept a royal secret. As you leave, check out Isabel II’s excellent 19th-century crystal ware.
• Exit to the hallway and notice the interior courtyard you’ve been circling one room at a time.
Courtyard: You can see how the royal family lived in the spacious middle floor while staff was upstairs. The kitchens, garage, and storerooms were on the ground level. The current prince recently married a commoner (for love) and celebrated their wedding party in this courtyard, which was decorated as if another palace room. Spain’s royals take their roles and responsibilities seriously, making a point to be approachable and empathizing with their subjects—and they are very popular (despite the antics of the younger generation and the elderly but frisky king).
• Between statues of the giants of Spanish royal history (Isabel and Ferdinand), you’ll enter the...
Royal Chapel: This chapel is used for private concerts and funerals. The royal coffin sits here before making the sad trip to El Escorial to join the rest of Spain’s past royalty (see next chapter). The glass case contains the entire body of St. Felix, given to the Spanish king by the pope in the 19th century. Note the “crying room” in the back for royal babies. While the royals rarely worship here (they prefer the cathedral adjacent to the palace), the thrones are here just in case.
• Pass through the Queen’s Boudoir—where royal ladies hung out—and into the...
Stradivarius Room: The current queen likes classical music. When you perform for her, do it with these precious 350-year-old violins. Of all the instruments made by Antonius Stradivarius (1644-1737), only 300 survive. This is the world’s best collection and the only matching quartet set: two violins, a viola, and a cello. Charles III, a cultured man, fiddled around with these. Today, a single Stradivarius instrument might sell for $15 million.
Billiards and Smoking Rooms: The billiards room (with its English men’s-club paneling) and the adjacent smoking room were for men only. The porcelain and silk decoration of the trippy smoking room—showing Chinese workers, peacocks, and turtles—imitates a Chinese opium den, which, in its day, was furnished only with pillows.
Stucco Study: Small and intimate, the room has delicate Wedgwood-china-style decor featuring slender columns, vines, garlands, and birds. This Neoclassical mode became the rage in Europe after 1748, when the ancient Roman city of Pompeii was excavated. Next to the adjoining man-caves, the stucco study served as the hangout and gossip headquarters for ladies of the court.
Fine Woods Room: The same man who created the fabulous Gasparini Room gave us this fine room of French inlaid wood.
• Exit the palace down the same grand stairway you climbed 24 rooms ago. Cross the big courtyard, heading to the far-right corner to the...
Armory: Here you’ll find weapons and armor belonging to many great Spanish historical figures. While some of it was actually for fighting, remember that the great royal pastimes included hunting and tournaments, and armor was largely for sport or ceremony. Much of this armor dates from Habsburg times, before this palace was built (it came here from the earlier fortress or from El Escorial). Circle the big room clockwise.
In the three glass cases on the left, you’ll see the oldest pieces in the collection. In the central case (case III), the shield, sword, belt, and dagger belonged to Boabdil, the last Moorish king, who surrendered Granada in 1492. In case IV, the armor and swords are Ferdinand’s, the husband of Isabel, and Boabdil’s contemporary.
The center of the room is filled with knights in armor on horseback—mostly suited up for tournament play. Many of the pieces belonged to the two great kings who ruled Spain at its 16th-century peak, Charles I and his son Philip II.
The long wall on the left displays the personal armor wardrobe of Charles I (a.k.a. the Holy Roman emperor Charles V). At the far end, you’ll meet Charles on horseback. The mannequin of the king wears the same armor and assumes the same pose as in Titian’s famous painting of him (in the Prado).
The opposite wall showcases the armor and weapons of Philip II, the king who watched Spain start its long slide downward. Philip, who impoverished Spain with his wars against the Protestants, anticipated that debt collectors would ransack his estate after his death and specifically protected his impressive collection of armor by founding this armory.
The tapestry above the armor once warmed the walls of the otherwise stark palace that predated this one. Tapestries traveled ahead of royals to decorate their living space. They made many palaces “fit for a king” back when the only way to effectively govern was to be on the road a lot.
Downstairs is more armor, a mixed collection mostly from the 17th century. You’ll find early guns and Asian armor. The pint-size armor you may see wasn’t for children to fight in. It’s training armor for noble youngsters, who as adults would be expected to ride, fight, and play gracefully in these clunky getups. Before you leave, notice the life-saving breastplates dimpled with bullet dents (to right of exit door).
• Climb the steps from the armory exit to the viewpoint.
View of the Gardens: Looking down from this high bluff, it’s clear why rulers have built on this strategically located spot (great for protecting the historic capital, Toledo) since the ninth century. The vast palace backyard, once the king’s hunting ground, is now a city park, dotted with fountains.
• Walk to the center of the huge square and face the palace. Notice how the palace of the king faces the palace of the bishop (the cathedral). Facing the palace, the weapons are on your left, and the royal pharmacy is on your right. It’s all here: church, state, guns, and drugs.
Royal Pharmacy: Wander through six rooms stacked with jars and jugs of herbal cures, past exotic beakers, and under portraits of royal doctors. See the kitchen where they cooked up all the goodies. The pharmacy is still in operation, after 400 years. Good English descriptions explain 18th- and 19th-century medicine.
• Whew. After all those rooms, frescoes, chandeliers, knickknacks, kings, and history, consider a final stop in the palace’s upstairs café for a well-deserved rest.
(See “Madrid’s Museum Neighborhood” map, here.)
Three great museums, all within a 10-minute walk of one another, cluster in east Madrid. The Prado is Europe’s top collection of paintings. The Thyssen-Bornemisza sweeps through European art from old masters to moderns. And the Centro de Arte Reina Sofía has a choice selection of modern art, starring Picasso’s famous Guernica.
Combo-Ticket: If visiting all three museums, you can save a few euros by buying the Paseo del Arte combo-ticket (€21.60, sold at all three museums, good for a year). Note that the Prado is free to enter every evening, the Reina Sofía has free hours every night but Tuesday—when it’s closed, and the Thyssen-Bornemisza is free on Monday (see specifics in following listings).
With more than 3,000 canvases, including entire rooms of masterpieces by superstar painters, the Prado (PRAH-doh) is my vote for the greatest collection anywhere of paintings by the European masters. The Prado is the place to enjoy the great Spanish painter Francisco de Goya, and it’s also the home of Diego Velázquez’s Las Meninas, considered by many to be the world’s finest painting, period. In addition to Spanish works, you’ll find paintings by Italian and Flemish masters, including Hieronymus Bosch’s fantastical Garden of Earthly Delights altarpiece.
Cost and Hours: €14, additional (obligatory) charge for temporary exhibits, free Mon-Sat 18:00-20:00 and Sun 17:00-19:00, under age 18 always free; open Mon-Sat 10:00-20:00, Sun 10:00-19:00, last entry 30 minutes before closing.
Crowd-Beating Tips: Lunchtime (13:00-16:00), when there are fewer groups, and weekdays are generally less crowded. It can be busy on free evenings and weekends. The ticket-buying lines at the Goya entrance can be long. Those who book in advance (by phone or online) or have a Madrid Card can pick up their tickets at the adjacent group entrance, skipping the main line. Here are your time-saving options:
1. Use the ticket machines at the Goya entrance (credit cards only).
2. Book an entry time in advance online or by phone (www.museodelprado.es, use credit card and print out ticket with entry time; or call 902-107-077, give credit card number, chose entry time, and get a reference number). Same-day advance purchase is possible if space is available.
3. Buy a Paseo del Arte combo-ticket (described earlier) at the less-crowded Thyssen-Bornemisza or Reina Sofía museums.
4. Get a Madrid Card beforehand (see here).
Getting There: It’s at the Paseo del Prado. The nearest Metro stops are Banco de España (line 2) and Atocha (line 1), each a five-minute walk from the museum. It’s a 15-minute walk from Puerta del Sol.
Getting In: While there are several entrances, you must buy tickets at the Goya (north) entrance. (Even at free-entry times, you need to pick up a gratis ticket at the Goya ticket window.) Once you have your ticket, you can enter at either the Goya, Jerónimos, or Velázquez entrances. The Murillo entrance is generally reserved for student groups.
Information: Tel. 913-302-800, www.museodelprado.es.
Audioguide: The €3.50 audioguide is a helpful supplement to my self-guided tour. Given the ever-changing locations of paintings (making my tour tough to follow), the audioguide is a good investment, allowing you to wander and dial up commentary on 250 masterpieces. And, if you’re on a tight budget, remember that two can listen cheek-to-cheek, sharing one device. It comes with a standard jack (bring your own earbuds, and a splitter).
Cloakroom: Your bags will be scanned as you enter. Larger bags must be checked (free). No drinks, food, backpacks, or large umbrellas are allowed inside.
Services: The Jerónimos entrance has an information desk, bag check, audioguides, bookshop, WCs, and café.
Eating: The self-service cafeteria and restaurant are open daily (Mon-Sat 10:00-19:30, Sun 10:00-18:30, €9 main dishes, €6 salads and sandwiches, hot dishes served only 12:30-16:00). A block west of the Prado (at Plaza de Canova del Castillo), there’s a Starbucks and a VIPS café (a local chain). A strip of wonderful tapas bars are just a few blocks east of the museum, lining Calle de Jésús. (See listings in “Eating in Madrid” section on here. For more eateries near the Prado, see here.)
Photography: Not allowed.
Self-Guided Tour(See “Prado Museum Overview” map, here.)
Thanks to Gene Openshaw for writing the following tour.
Centuries of powerful kings (and lots of New World gold) funded the Prado, the greatest painting museum in the world. You’ll see first-class Italian Renaissance art (especially Titian), Northern art (Bosch, Rubens, Dürer), and Spanish art (El Greco, Velázquez, Goya). This huge museum is not laid out chronologically, so this tour will not be chronological. Instead, we’ll hit the highlights with a minimum of walking. Paintings are moved around frequently—if you can’t find a particular one, ask a guard.
• Pick up the museum map as you enter (free, available at entry). Once inside, make your way to the main gallery on the ground floor. Follow your map and signs to sala 49. Look for the following paintings in Room 49 and the adjoining galleries.
During its Golden Age (the 1500s), Spain may have been Europe’s richest country, but Italy was still the most cultured. Spain’s kings loved how Italian Renaissance artists captured a three-dimensional world on a two-dimensional canvas, bringing Bible scenes to life and celebrating real people and their emotions.
Raphael (1483-1520) was the undisputed master of realism. When he painted The Cardinal (El Cardenal, c. 1510), he showed the sly Vatican functionary with a day’s growth of beard and an air of superiority, locking eyes with the viewer. The cardinal’s slightly turned torso is as big as a statue. Nearby are Raphael’s Holy Family and other paintings.
Fra Angelico’s The Annunciation (La Anunciación, c. 1426) is in nearby Room 56b. It’s half medieval piety, half Renaissance realism. In the crude Garden of Eden scene (on the left), a scrawny, sinful First Couple hovers unrealistically above the foliage, awaiting eviction. The angel’s Annunciation to Mary (right side) is more Renaissance, both with its upbeat message (that Jesus will be born to redeem sinners like Adam and Eve) and in the budding photorealism, set beneath 3-D arches. (Still, aren’t the receding bars of the porch’s ceiling a bit off? Painting three dimensions wasn’t that easy.)
Nearby (likely in Room 56b), the tiny Death of the Virgin (El Transito de la Virgen), by Andrea Mantegna (c. 1431-1506), shows his mastery of Renaissance perspective. The apostles crowd into the room to mourn the last moments of the Virgin Mary’s life. The receding floor tiles and open window in the back create the subconscious effect of Mary’s soul finding its way out into the serene distance.
• Find examples of Northern European art, including Dürer, in Room 55b.
Albrecht Dürer’s Self-Portrait (Autorretrato), from 1498, is possibly the first time an artist depicted himself. The artist, age 26, is German, but he’s all dolled up in a fancy Italian hat and permed hair. He’d recently returned from Italy and wanted to impress his countrymen with his sophistication. Dürer (1471-1528) wasn’t simply vain. He’d grown accustomed, as an artist in Renaissance Italy, to being treated like a prince. Note Dürer’s signature, the pyramid-shaped “A. D.” (D inside the A), on the windowsill.
Dürer’s 1507 panel paintings of Adam and Eve are the first full-size nudes in Northern European art. Like Greek statues, they pose in their separate niches, with three-dimensional, anatomically correct bodies. This was a bold humanist proclamation that the body is good, man is good, and the things of the world are good.
• Return to Room 49, and enter the adjoining Room 57b. Keep going until you find Room 58.
Roger van der Weyden (c. 1399-1464)’s Descent from the Cross (El Descendimiento) is a masterpiece. The Flemish painter reveals the psychological drama of this biblical event by placing the characters of real people in a contemporary (1435) scene. The Flemish were masters of detail, as you can see in the cloth, jewels, faces, and even tears. These effects are all enhanced by the artist’s choice of oil paint, a relatively new and vibrant medium especially suited to conveying textural realism and intense color. The creative composition suggests that, in losing her son, Mary suffered along with Jesus. Note the realism, especially in the mournful faces, and the gorgeous arc of Mary Magdalene’s pose (far right). As the Netherlands was then a part of the Spanish empire, this painting ended up in Madrid.
• Continue to Room 56a.
Hieronymus Bosch (c. 1450-1516), in his cryptic triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights (El Jardín de las Delicias, c. 1505), relates the message that the pleasures of life are fleeting, and we’d better avoid them or we’ll wind up in hell.
This is a triptych—a three-paneled altarpiece, with a central image and two hinged outer panels. When the panels are closed, another image is revealed on their back side. All four images work together to teach a religious message. First notice the back side of this otherwise colorful work. It’s a black-and-white scene depicting Creation on Day Three—before God added animals and humans to the mix. So, imagine the altarpiece closed. All is mellow. Then open it up, bring on the people, and splash into the colorful Garden of Earthly Delights.
On the left is Paradise, showing naked Adam and Eve before original sin. Everything is in its place, with animals behaving virtuously. Innocent Adam and Eve get married, with God himself performing the ceremony.
The central panel is a riot of hedonistic men and women on a perpetual spring break. Men on horseback ride round and round, searching for but never reaching the elusive Fountain of Youth. Others frolic in earth’s “Garden,” oblivious to where they came from (left) and where they may end up (exit...right).
Now, go to Hell (right panel). It’s a burning Dante’s Inferno-inspired wasteland where genetic-mutant demons torture sinners. Everyone gets their just desserts, like the glutton who is eaten and re-eaten eternally, the musician strung up on his own harp, and the gamblers with their table forever overturned. In the center, hell is literally frozen over. A creature with a broken eggshell body hosting a tavern, tree-trunk legs, and a hat featuring a bagpipe (symbolic of hedonism) stares out—it’s the face of Bosch himself.
If you like this Bosch, you’ll enjoy the others in this gallery. The table in the center features his Seven Deadly Sins (Los Pecados Capitales, late 15th century). Each of the four corners has a theme: death, judgment, paradise, and hell. The fascinating wheel, with Christ in the center, names the sins in Latin (lust, envy, gluttony, and so on), and illustrates each with a vivid scene that works as a slice of 15th-century Dutch life.
Another triptych, The Hay Wagon (El Carro de Heno, c. 1516), hangs nearby. Like The Garden of Earthly Delights, and with the same vivid imagery, it teaches morality in what must have been a very effective and frightening way back when Bosch painted it.
Nearby, Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s (c. 1525-1569) work chronicles the 16th century’s violent Catholic-Protestant wars in The Triumph of Death (El Triunfo de la Muerte). The painting is one big, chaotic battle, featuring skeletons attacking helpless mortals. Bruegel’s message is simple and morbid: No one can escape death.
• But you can escape this room. Continue through the next few galleries (55a and 55) and into the red lobby. Find the elevators on the left, and go up to level 1. Exiting the elevator, turn left into Room 11. This is one of several rooms with work by Velázquez—including Las Meninas, around the corner in the large, lozenge-shaped Room 12.
Diego Velázquez (vel-LAHTH-keth, 1599-1660) was the photojournalist of court painters, capturing the Spanish king and his court in formal portraits that take on aspects of a candid snapshot. Room 12 is filled with the portraits Velázquez was called on to produce. Kings and princes prance like Roman emperors. Get up close and notice that his remarkably detailed costumes are nothing but a few messy splotches of paint—the proto-Impressionism Velázquez helped pioneer.
The room’s centerpiece, and perhaps the most important painting in the museum, is Velázquez’s Maids of Honor (Las Meninas, c. 1656). It’s a peek at nannies caring for Princess Margarita and, at the same time, a behind-the-scenes look at Velázquez at work. One hot summer day in 1656, Velázquez (at left, with paintbrush and Dalí moustache) stands at his easel and stares out at the people he’s painting—the king and queen. They would have been standing about where we are, and we see only their reflection in the mirror at the back of the room. Their daughter (blonde hair, in center) watches her parents being painted, joined by her servants (meninas), dwarves, and the family dog. At that very moment, a man happens to pass by the doorway at back and pauses to look in. Why’s he there? Probably just to give the painting more depth.
This frozen moment is lit by the window on the right, splitting the room into bright and shaded planes that recede into the distance. The main characters look right at us, making us part of the scene, seemingly able to walk around, behind, and among the characters. Notice the exquisitely painted mastiff.
If you stand in the center of the room, the 3-D effect is most striking. This is art come to life.
• Facing this painting, leave to the left and go two rooms to reach Room 10.
Look around this gallery and see how Velázquez enjoyed capturing light—and capturing the moment. The Drinkers (Los Borrachos, c. 1628) is a cell-phone snapshot in a blue-collar bar, with a couple of peasants mugging for a photo-op with a Greek god—Bacchus, the god of wine. This was an early work, before Velázquez got his court-painter gig. A personal homage to the hardworking farmers enjoying the fruit of their labor, it shows how Velázquez had a heart for real people and believed they deserved portraits, too. Notice the almost-sacramental presence of the ultrarealistic bowl of wine in the center, as Bacchus, with the honest gut, crowns a fellow hedonist.
• Backtrack through the big gallery with Las Meninas to Room 14.
Velázquez’s boss, King Philip IV, had an affair, got caught, and repented by commissioning Christ Crucified (Cristo Crucificado, c. 1632). Christ hangs his head, humbly accepting his punishment. Philip would have been left to stare at the slowly dripping blood, contemplating how long Christ had to suffer to atone for Philip’s sins. This is an interesting death scene. There’s no anguish, no tension, no torture. Light seems to emanate from Jesus as if nothing else matters. The crown of thorns and cloth wrapped around his waist are particularly vivid. Above it all, a sign reads in three languages: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.”
• The nearby rooms (16 and 17) are filled with Murillo paintings. In the first room are several immaculately conceived virgins.
Bartolomé Murillo (1618-1683) put a human face on the abstract Catholic doctrine that Mary was conceived and born free of original sin. In Immaculate Conception (La Inmaculada Concepción de El Escorial, c. 1665), his “immaculate” virgin floats in a cloud of Ivory Soap cleanliness, radiating youth and wholesome goodness. She wears the usual colors of the Virgin Mary—white for purity and blue for divinity. (Murillo and his style are described on here.) Sweet and escapist, Murillo’s work was a hit, and it must have been very comforting to the wretched people of post-plague Sevilla (his hometown was hit hard in 1647-1652).
• Return to the main hallway (Rooms 28 and 29) for lots of fleshy excitement, courtesy of Peter Paul Rubens.
A native of Flanders, Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640) painted Baroque-style art meant to play on the emotions, titillate the senses, and carry you away. His paintings surge with Baroque energy and ripple with waves of figures. Surveying his big, boisterous canvases, you’ll notice his trademarks: sex, violence, action, emotion, bright colors, and ample bodies, with the wind machine set on full. Gods are melodramatic, and nymphs flee half-human predators. Rubens painted the most beautiful women of his day—well-fed, no tan lines, squirt-gun breasts, and very sexy.
Rubens’ The Three Graces (Las Tres Gracias, c. 1635) celebrates cellulite. The ample, glowing bodies intertwine as the women exchange meaningful glances. The Grace at the left is Rubens’ young second wife, Hélène Fourment, who shows up regularly in his paintings.
• From the main hall with the Rubens, look to the near end of the hall, where Goya’s royal portraits hang. We’ll end up there. But first, head the other way to Titian and El Greco. Titians line the big hall, and the El Grecos are in Rooms 8b, 9b, and 10b.
El Greco (1541-1614) was born in Greece (his name is Spanish for “The Greek”), trained in Venice, then settled in Toledo—60 miles from Madrid. His paintings are like Byzantine icons drenched in Venetian color and fused in the fires of Spanish mysticism. (For more on El Greco, see here and visit Toledo.) The El Greco paintings displayed here rotate, but they all glow with his unique style.
In Christ Carrying the Cross (Cristo Abrazado a la Cruz, c. 1602), Jesus accepts his fate, trudging toward death with blood running down his neck. He hugs the cross and directs his gaze along the crossbar. His upturned eyes (sparkling with a streak of white paint) lock onto his next stop—heaven.
The Adoration of the Shepherds (La Adoración de los Pastores, c. 1614), originally painted for El Greco’s own burial chapel in Toledo, has the artist’s typical two-tiered composition—heaven above, earth below. The long, skinny shepherds are stretched unnaturally in between, flickering like flames toward heaven.
The Nobleman with His Hand on His Chest (El Caballero de la Mano al Pecho, c. 1580) shows an elegant and somewhat arrogant man whose hand has the middle fingers touching—El Greco’s trademark way of expressing elegance (or was it the 16th-century symbol for “Live long and prosper”?). The signature is on the right in faint Greek letters—“Doménikos Theotokópoulos,” El Greco’s real name.
• Return to the main gallery. In the center, under the dome (and opposite Las Meninas), Charles I sits royally on horseback.
Spain’s Golden Age kings Charles I (a.k.a. Charles V) and Philip II were both staunch Catholics, but that didn’t stop them from amassing this sometimes surprisingly racy collection. Both kings sat for portraits by the Venetian master Titian (c. 1485-1576).
In Emperor Charles V on Horseback (El Emperador Carlos V en la Batalla de Mühlberg, 1548), the king rears on his horse, raises his lance, and rides out to crush an army of Lutherans. Charles, having inherited many kingdoms and baronies through his family connections, was the world’s most powerful man in the 1500s. (You can see the suit of armor depicted in the painting in the Royal Palace.)
In contrast (just to the right), Charles I’s son, Philip II (Felipe II, c. 1551), looks pale, suspicious, and lonely—a scholarly and complex figure. He built the austere, monastic palace at El Escorial, but also indulged himself with Titian’s bevy of Renaissance Playmates—a sampling of which is here in the Prado.
These are the faces of the Counter-Reformation. While father and son ruled very differently, both had underbites, a product of royal inbreeding (which Titian painted...but very delicately). For more Titians, stroll the grand gallery (Rooms 25 and 26).
• Now walk to the far end of the main gallery and enter the round Room 32, where you’ll see royal portraits by Goya. The museum’s exciting Goya collection is on three levels at this end of the building: classic Goya (royal portraits and La Maja), on this floor; early cartoons, upstairs; and his dark and political work, downstairs.
Follow the complex Francisco de Goya (1746-1828) through the stages of his life—from dutiful court painter, to political rebel and scandal-maker, to the disillusioned genius of his “black paintings.”
In the group portrait The Family of Charles IV (La Familia de Carlos IV, 1800), the royals are all decked out in their Sunday best. Goya himself stands at his easel to the far left, painting the court (a tribute to Velázquez in Las Meninas) and revealing the shallowness beneath the fancy trappings. Charles, with his ridiculous hairpiece and goofy smile, was a vacuous, henpecked husband. His toothless yet domineering queen upstages him, arrogantly stretching her swanlike neck. The other adults, with their bland faces, are bug-eyed with stupidity.
Surrounding you in this same room are other portraits of the king and queen. Also notice the sketch paintings, quick studies done with the subjects posing for Goya. He used these for reference to complete his larger, more finished canvases.
• To the right, in Room 36, is Goya’s most scandalous work.
Rumors flew that Goya was fooling around with the vivacious Duchess of Alba, who may have been the model for two similar paintings, Nude Maja (La Maja Desnuda, c. 1800) and Clothed Maja (La Maja Vestida, c. 1808). A maja was a trendy, working-class girl. Whether she’s a duchess or a maja, Goya painted a naked lady—an actual person rather than some mythic Venus. And that was enough to risk incurring the wrath of the Inquisition. The nude stretches in a Titian-esque pose to display her charms, the pale body with realistic pubic hair highlighted by cool green sheets. (Notice the artist’s skillful rendering of the transparent fabric on the pillow.) According to a believable legend, the two paintings were displayed in a double frame, with the Clothed Maja sliding over the front to hide the Nude Maja from Inquisitive minds.
• Find the nearby staircase and elevator, and head up to level 2 for more Goya.
These rooms display Goya’s designs for tapestries (known as “cartoons”) for nobles’ palaces. As you stroll around, the scenes make it clear that, while revolution was brewing in America and France, Spain’s lords and ladies were playing, blissfully ignorant of the changing times. Dressed in their “Goya-style” attire, they’re picnicking, dancing, flying kites, playing paddleball and Blind Man’s Bluff, or just relaxing in the sun—as in the well-known The Parasol (El Quitasol, Room 85).
• For more Goya, take the stairs or elevator down to level 0. Find Room 66, which leads into Goya’s final paintings, with a darker edge. Room 65 takes you to powerful military scenes.
Goya became a political liberal, a champion of democracy. He was crushed when France’s hero of the French Revolution, Napoleon, morphed into a tyrant and invaded Spain. In the Second of May, 1808 (El 2 de Mayo de 1808, 1814), Madrid’s citizens rise up to protest the occupation in Puerta del Sol, and the French send in their dreaded Egyptian mercenaries. They plow through the dense tangle of Madrileños, who have nowhere to run. The next day, the Third of May, 1808 (El 3 de Mayo de 1808, 1814), the French rounded up ringleaders and executed them. The colorless firing squad—a faceless machine of death—mows them down, and they fall in bloody, tangled heaps. Goya throws a harsh prisonyard floodlight on the main victim, who spreads his arms Christlike to ask, “Why?”
Politically, Goya was split—he was a Spaniard, but he knew France was leading Europe into the modern age. His art, while political, has no Spanish or French flags. It’s a universal comment on the horror of war. Many consider Goya the last classical and first modern painter...the first painter with a social conscience.
• About face to the “black paintings” in Rooms 66 and 67.
Depressed and deaf from syphilis, Goya retired to his small home and smeared its walls with his “black paintings”—dark in color and in mood. During this period in his life, Goya would paint his nightmares...literally. The style is considered Romantic—emphasizing emotion over beauty—but it foreshadows 20th-century Surrealism with its bizarre imagery, expressionistic and thick brushstrokes, and cynical outlook.
Stepping into Room 67, you are surrounded by art from Goya’s dark period. These paintings are the actual murals from the walls of his house, transferred onto canvas. Imagine this in your living room. Goya painted what he felt with a radical technique unburdened by reality—a century before his time. And he painted without being paid for it—perhaps the first great paintings done not for hire or for sale. We know frustratingly little about these works because Goya wrote nothing about them.
Dark forces convened continually in Goya’s dining room, where The Witches’ Sabbath (El Aquelarre, c. 1823) hung. The witches, who look like skeletons, swirl in a frenzy around a dark, Satanic goat in monk’s clothing who presides over the obscene rituals. The black goat represents the Devil and stokes the frenzy of his wild-eyed subjects. Amid this adoration and lust, a noble lady (far right) folds her hands primly in her lap (“I thought this was a Tupperware party!”). Or, perhaps it’s a pep rally for her execution, maybe inspired by the chaos that accompanied Plaza Mayor executions. Nobody knows for sure.
In Duel with Cudgels (Duelo a Garrotazos, c. 1823), two giants stand face-to-face, buried up to their knees, and flail at each other with clubs. It’s a standoff between superpowers in the never-ending cycle of war—a vision of a tough time when people on the streets would kill for a piece of bread.
In Saturn Devouring One of His Sons (Saturno Devorando a un Hijo, c. 1823), the king of the Roman gods—fearful that his progeny would overthrow him—eats one of his offspring. Saturn, also known as Cronus (Time), may symbolize how time devours us all. Either way, the painting brings new meaning to the term “child’s portion.”
Dog Semi-Submerged (Perro Semihundido, c. 1823) is, according to some, the hinge between classical art and modern art. The dog, so full of feeling and sadness, is being swallowed by quicksand...much as, to Goya, the modern age was overtaking a more classical era. And look closely at the dog. It also can be seen as a turning point for Goya. Perhaps he’s bottomed out—he’s been overwhelmed by depression, but his spirit has survived. With the portrait of this dog, color is returning.
• Step back into Room 66, and look on the right.
The last painting we have by Goya is The Milkmaid of Bordeaux (La Lechera de Burdeos, c. 1826). Somehow, Goya pulled out of his depression and moved to France, where he lived until his death at 82. While painting as an old man, color returned to his palette. His social commentary, his passion for painting what he felt (more than what he was hired to do), and, as you see here, the freedom of his brushstrokes explain why many consider Francesco de Goya to be the first modern artist.
• There’s lots more to the Prado, but there’s also lots more to Madrid. The choice is yours.
Locals call this stunning museum simply the Thyssen (TEE-sun). It displays the impressive collection that Baron Thyssen (a wealthy German married to a former Miss Spain) sold to Spain for $350 million. The museum offers a unique chance to enjoy the sweep of all art history—including a good sampling of the “isms” of the 20th century—in one collection. It’s basically minor works by major artists and major works by minor artists. (Major works by major artists are in the Prado.) But art lovers appreciate how the good baron’s art complements the Prado’s collection by filling in where the Prado is weak—such as Impressionism, which is the Thyssen’s forte.
Cost and Hours: €9 (up to €8 more for optional special exhibits), under age 12 free, audioguide-€4; Mon 12:00-16:00, Tue-Sun 10:00-19:00, Tue-Sat until 22:00 in summer, last entry 30 minutes before closing.
Getting There: It’s kitty-corner from the Prado at Paseo del Prado 8 in Palacio de Villahermosa (Metro: Banco de España).
Information: Tel. 902-760-511, www.museothyssen.org.
Services: Free baggage storage, cafeteria and restaurant, shop/bookstore.
Visiting the Museum: After purchasing your ticket, continue down the wide main hall past larger-than-life paintings of King Juan Carlos and Queen Sofía, and then paintings of the baron (who died in 2002) and his art-collecting baroness, Carmen. At the info desk, pick up two museum maps (one for numbered rooms, another for lettered rooms). Each of the three floors is divided into two separate areas: the permanent collection (blue-numbered rooms) and additions from the baroness since the 1980s (red-lettered rooms). Most visitors stick to the permanent collection.
Ascend to the top floor and work your way down, taking a delightful walk through art history. Visit the rooms on each floor in numerical order, from Primitive Italian (Room 1) to Surrealism and Pop Art (Room 48).
Temporary exhibits at the Thyssen often parallel those at the free Caja Madrid exhibit hall, across from the Descalzas Royal Monastery on Plaza San Martín, a short walk from Puerta del Sol (see here).
Leaving the Museum: If you’re heading to the Reina Sofía and you’re tired, hail a cab at the gate to zip straight there, or take bus #27, which stops in the square with the Neptune fountain, in front of the Starbucks (ride to the end of Paseo del Prado, get off at the McDonald’s, and cross the street, going away from the Botanical Gardens, to Plaza Sánchez Bustillo and the museum).
Home to Picasso’s Guernica, the Reina Sofía is one of Europe’s most enjoyable modern art museums. Its exceptional collection of 20th-century art is housed in what was Madrid’s first public hospital. The focus is on 20th-century Spanish artists—Picasso, Dalí, Miró, Gris, and Tàpies—but you’ll also find plenty of works by Kandinsky, Braque, and many other giants of modern art.
The current curator, who has a passion for cinema, has paired paintings with films from the same decade, which play continuously in nearby rooms. This provides a fascinating insight into the social context that inspired the art of Spain’s tumultuous 20th century. Those with an appetite for modern and contemporary art can spend several delightful hours in this museum.
Cost and Hours: €8 (includes most temporary exhibits), €3 entry if you’re under 18 or over 65, free Mon and Wed-Sat 19:00-21:00, Sun 15:00-19:00 (free times are often crowded, and you must pick up a ticket); open Mon and Wed-Sat 10:00-21:00, Sun 10:00-19:00 (fourth floor not accessible Sun after 15:00), closed Tue.
Getting There: It’s a block from the Atocha Metro stop, on Plaza Sánchez Bustillo (at Calle de Santa Isabel 52). In the Metro station, follow signs for the Reina Sofía exit. Emerging from the Metro, walk straight ahead a half-block and look for an opening between the group of buildings. You’ll see the tall, exterior glass elevators that flank the museum’s main entrance.
Information: Tel. 917-741-000, www.museoreinasofia.es.
Audioguide: The hardworking audioguide is €4.
Services: Bag storage is free. The librería just outside the Nouvel wing has a larger selection of Picasso and Surrealist reproductions than the main gift shop at the entrance. The museum’s café (a long block around the left from the main entrance) is a standout for its tasty cuisine. And the square immediately in front of the museum is ringed by fine places (like the recommended El Brillante) for a simple meal or drink.
Photography: Photos are not allowed in the room containing Guernica or in the surrounding rooms. Otherwise, photos without flash are OK.
Self-Guided TourPick up a free map and use the good information sheets to supplement this tour.
The permanent collection is divided into three groups: art from 1900 to 1945 (second floor), art from 1945 to 1968 (fourth floor), and art from 1962 to 1982 (adjoining Nouvel wing, which also has space for bigger installations). Temporary exhibits are on the first and third floors.
While the collection is roughly chronological, it’s displayed thematically. The second-floor grand hallway leads around a courtyard connecting a series of rooms, each clearly labeled with a theme. For a good first visit, ride the fancy glass elevator to level 2 and tour that floor clockwise (Goya, Surrealism, Cubism, Picasso’s Guernica), and then finish with post-WWII art on level 4.
• Begin in Room 201, with examples of...
The installations at many museums leave you scratching your head in frustration. But the wonderful curator of the Reina Sofía insightfully begins your look at modern art with Goya engravings. That’s because Goya is a proto-modernist—the first painter with a social conscience, the first to show inner feelings, and the first to deal with social reality. He painted because he had something to say, not just to get a paycheck.
• Browse through the next rooms, whose underlying theme is the conflict between tradition (the powerful Church) and progress (social modernization). Find your way to Room 205 and...
In 1914 a generation marched enthusiastically into combat, believing the Great War would be the “war to end all wars.” Many artists embraced this fight, volunteered to serve, and died for the cause. But when it was over, it was clear: World War I brought no lasting change. Frustrated, many survivors turned their backs on society.
In the postwar years, a class of artists abandoned the outer world and looked inside (with inspiration from Freud). They painted mindscapes rather than landscapes. They had learned that reality is deeper than what you first “see.” These were the Surrealists. To “see” their art, you need to vary your position: your physical perspective and your mental perspective. See it happy, sad, before coffee, after coffee.
In the Dalí room, you’ll see the artist’s distinct, Surrealist, melting-object style. Dalí places familiar items in a stark landscape, creating an eerie effect. Figures morph into misplaced faces and body parts. Background and foreground play mind games—is it an animal (seen one way) or a man’s face? A waterfall or a pair of legs? It’s a wide shot...no, it’s a close-up. Look long at paintings like Dalí’s Endless Enigma (1938) and The Invisible Man (c. 1933); they take different viewers to different places.
The Great Masturbator (1929) is psychologically exhausting, depicting in its Surrealism a lonely, highly sexual genius in love with his muse, Gala (while she was still married to a French poet). This is the first famous Surrealist painting.
During this productive period, Dalí was working on the classic Surrealist film Un Chien Andalou (The Andalusian Dog, 1928) with his collaborator Luis Buñuel (the film plays in the gallery). Both men were members of the Generation of ’27, a group of nonconformist Spanish bohemians whose creative interests had a huge influence on art and literature in their era.
• Skirt around the courtyard to find Room 210 and...
Cubism was born in the first decade of the 20th century. You could make a good case that the changes in society in the year 1900 were more profound than those we lived through in 2000. Trains and cars brought speed to life. Electricity brought light. Einstein introduced us to abstract ideas. Photography captured reality. And art broke away. At the turn of the century there were two ways to express art: line (Picasso) and color (Matisse)—but it was still in two dimensions. With Cubism, three dimensions are shown in two. Imagine walking around a statue to take in all the angles, and then attempting to put it on a 2-D plane. With Cubism, everyone sees things differently. To appreciate it, take your time and free your imagination.
Room 210 shows the birth of Cubism—a movement in which Spaniards were very much at the forefront (with works by Picasso, Braque, Léger, and Gris). To literally see a 2-D picture plane leap to life, watch the Lumière brothers’ early film Danse Serpentine (c. 1898).
• In Room 206, you come to what is likely the reason for your visit...
Perhaps the single most impressive piece of art in Spain is Pablo Picasso’s Guernica (1937). The monumental canvas—one of Europe’s must-see sights—is not only a piece of art but a piece of history, capturing the horror of modern war in a modern style.
While it’s become a timeless classic representing all war, it was born in response to a specific conflict—the civil war (1936-1939), which pitted the democratically elected Second Republican government against the fascist general Francisco Franco. Franco won and ended up ruling Spain with an iron fist for the next 36 years. At the time Franco cemented his power, Guernica was touring internationally as part of a fund-raiser for the Republican cause. With Spain’s political situation deteriorating and World War II looming, Picasso in 1939 named New York’s Museum of Modern Art as the depository for the work. It was only after Franco’s death, in 1975, that Guernica ended its decades of exile. In 1981 the painting finally arrived in Spain (where it had never before been), and it now stands as Spain’s national piece of art.
Guernica—The Bombing: On April 26, 1937, Guernica—a Basque market town in northern Spain and an important Republican center—was the target of the world’s first saturation-bombing raid on civilians. Franco gave permission to his fascist confederate Hitler to use the town as a guinea pig to try out Germany’s new air force. The raid leveled the town, causing destruction that was unheard of at the time (though by 1944 it would be commonplace). For more on the town of Guernica and the bombing, see here.
News of the bombing reached Picasso in Paris, where coincidentally he was just beginning work on a painting commission awarded by the Republican government. Picasso scrapped his earlier plans and immediately set to work sketching scenes of the destruction as he imagined it. In a matter of weeks he put these bomb-shattered shards together into a large mural (286 square feet). For the first time, the world could see the destructive force of the rising fascist movement—a prelude to World War II.
Guernica—The Painting: The bombs are falling, shattering the quiet village. A woman looks up at the sky (far right), horses scream (center), and a man falls from a horse and dies, while a wounded woman drags herself through the streets. She tries to escape, but her leg is too thick, dragging her down, like trying to run from something in a nightmare. On the left, a bull—a symbol of Spain—ponders it all, watching over a mother and her dead baby...a modern pietà. A woman in the center sticks her head out to see what’s going on. The whole scene is lit from above by the stark light of a bare bulb. Picasso’s painting threw a light on the brutality of Hitler and Franco, and suddenly the whole world was watching.
Picasso’s abstract, Cubist style reinforces the message. It’s as if he’d picked up the shattered shards and pasted them onto a canvas. The black-and-white tones are as gritty as the black-and-white newspaper photos that reported the bombing. The drab colors create a depressing, almost nauseating mood.
Picasso chose images with universal symbolism, making the work a commentary on all wars. Picasso himself said that the central horse, with the spear in its back, symbolizes humanity succumbing to brute force. The fallen rider’s arm is severed and his sword is broken, more symbols of defeat. The bull, normally a proud symbol of strength and independence, is impotent and frightened. Between the bull and the horse, the faint dove of peace can do nothing but cry.
The bombing of Guernica—like the entire civil war—was an exercise in brutality. As one side captured a town, it might systematically round up every man, old and young—including priests—line them up, and shoot them in revenge for atrocities by the other side.
Thousands of people attended the Paris exhibition, and Guernica caused an immediate sensation. They could see the horror of modern war technology, the vain struggle of the Spanish Republicans, and the cold indifference of the fascist war machine. Picasso vowed never to return to Spain while Franco ruled (the dictator outlived him).
With each passing year, the canvas seemed more and more prophetic—honoring not just the hundreds or thousands who died in Guernica, but also the estimated 500,000 victims of Spain’s bitter civil war and the 55 million worldwide who perished in World War II. Picasso put a human face on what we now call “collateral damage.”
• After seeing Guernica, view the additional exhibits that put the painting in its social context.
On the back wall on the Guernica room is a line of photos showing the evolution of the painting, from Picasso’s first concept to the final mural. The photos were taken in his Paris studio by Dora Maar, Picasso’s mistress-du-jour (and whose portrait by Picasso hangs nearby). Notice how his work evolved from the defiant fist in early versions to a broken sword with a flower.
The room behind Guernica contains studies Picasso did for the painting. These studies are filled with motifs that turn up in the final canvas—iron-nail tears, weeping women, and screaming horses. Picasso returned to these images in his work for the rest of his life. He believed that everyone struggles internally with aspects of the horse and bull: rationality and brutality, humanity and animalism. The Minotaur—half-man and half-bull—powerfully captures Picasso’s poet/rapist vision of man. Having lived through the brutality of the age—World War I, the Spanish Civil War, and World War II—his outlook is understandable.
In one corner of this room, you’ll also find a model of the Spanish Pavilion at the 1937 Paris exposition where Guernica was first displayed (look inside to see Picasso’s work). Picasso originally toyed with painting an allegory on the theme of the artist’s studio for the expo. But the bombing of Guernica jolted him into the realization that Spain was a country torn by war. Thanks to Guernica, the pavilion became a vessel for propaganda and a fund-raising tool against Franco.
In nearby Room 206.03, you’ll see posters and political cartoons that are pro-communist and anti-Franco. Made the same year as Guernica, these touch on timeless themes related to rich elites, industrialists, the Church, and the military industrial complex versus the common man.
The remaining rooms display pieces from contemporary artists reacting to the conflict of the time, whether through explicit commentary—as in Horacio Ferrer’s Madrid 1937: Black Airplanes (Room 206.04)—or through new, innovative styles inspired by the changing political and social culture.
• Head up to level 4, where the permanent collection continues.
After World War II, the center of the art world moved from Paris to New York City. Spain was ruled by a dictatorship, and the avant-garde could not be so avant. The organizing theme in this part of the museum is “Art in a Divided World.” On this floor, especially, you’ll want to take full advantage of the English information sheets in each room and the narration provided by your audioguide.
You’ll see Kandinsky as a bridge into abstract art and the Abstract Expressionism of Jackson Pollock and company. Room 419 is especially interesting, with late works by Picasso and Miró (from the 1960s and 1970s). On this floor, you can see photographs and watch films documenting Spain’s slow recovery from its devastating civil war. The physical and psychological damage of the war weighed on Spain for decades afterward.
• End your visit in the...
The newest wing of the museum features art from the 1960s through the 1980s, with a thematic focus on the complexity and plurality of modern times. While these galleries have fewer household names, the pieces displayed demonstrate the many aesthetic directions of more recent modern art.
Once the private domain of royalty, this majestic park has been a favorite of Madrid’s commoners since Charles III decided to share it with his subjects in the late 18th century. Siesta in this 300-acre green-and-breezy escape from the city. At midday on Saturday and Sunday, the area around the lake becomes a street carnival, with jugglers, puppeteers, and lots of local color. These peaceful gardens offer great picnicking and people-watching (closes at dusk). From the Retiro Metro stop, walk to the big lake (El Estanque), where you can rent a rowboat. Past the lake, a grand boulevard of statues leads to the Prado.
After your Prado visit, you can take a lush and fragrant break in this sculpted park. Wander among trees from around the world, originally gathered by—who else?—the enlightened King Charles III. This garden was established when the Prado’s building housed the natural science museum. A flier in English explains that this is actually more than a park—it’s a museum of plants.
Cost and Hours: €3, daily 10:00-21:00, until 18:00 in winter, last entry 30 minutes before closing, entrance is opposite the Prado’s Murillo/south entry, Plaza de Murillo 2.
This museum tells the story of Spain’s navy, from the Armada to today, in a plush and fascinating-to-boat-lovers exhibit. Given Spain’s importance in maritime history, there’s quite a story to tell. Because this is a military facility, you’ll need to show your passport to get in. A good English brochure is available.
Cost and Hours: Free, Tue-Sun 10:00-19:00, closed Mon and Aug, a block north of the Prado, across boulevard from Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, Paseo del Prado 5, tel. 915-238-789.
Across the street from the Prado and Royal Botanical Garden, this impressive exhibit hall has sleek architecture and an outdoor hanging garden—a bushy wall festooned with greens designed by a French landscape artist. The forum, funded by La Caixa Bank, features world-class art exhibits—generally 20th-century art, well-described in English and changing three times a year. Ride the elevator to the top, where you’ll find a chic café with €13 weekday lunch specials and sperm-like lamps swarming down from the ceiling; from here, explore your way down.
Cost and Hours: €4, daily 10:00-20:00, Paseo del Prado 36, tel. 913-307-300.
This former post-office headquarters was recently converted to a cultural center—featuring mostly empty exhibition halls, an auditorium, and public hang-out spaces—and renamed the Cibeles CentroCentro of Culture and Citizenship. (Say that five times fast!) The temporary exhibits can be skipped. The real attraction lies in the gorgeous 360-degree rooftop views from the eighth-floor observation deck. Visit the recommended sixth-floor Restaurante Palacio de Cibeles and bar for similar views from its two terraces.
Cost and Hours: €2 elevator ride to observation deck, visiting the Palacio itself is free—take advantage of its air-conditioning and free Wi-Fi; building open Tue-Sun 10:00-20:00, terrace visits possible every half hour 10:30-13:30 & 16:00-19:00, closed Mon, Plaza de Cibeles 1, tel. 914-800-008, www.centrocentro.org.
For a walk down Spain’s version of Fifth Avenue, stroll the Gran Vía. Built primarily between 1900 and the 1950s, this boulevard affords a fun view of early-20th-century architecture and a chance to be on the street with workaday Madrileños. I’ve broken the walk into five sections, each of which was the ultimate in its day.
Circulo de Bellas Artes: Begin at this 1920s skyscraper offering the best rooftop view around (Calle de Alcalá #42, Metro: Banco de España, a venerable café operates on its ground floor). Ride the elevator to the seventh-floor roof terrace (€3, daily 11:00-15:00 & 16:00-21:00), and stand under a black, Art Deco statue of Minerva, perhaps put here to associate Madrid with this mythological protectress of culture and high thinking. Walk the perimeter of the rooftop from the far left for a clockwise tour.
Looking to the left, you’ll see the gold-fringed dome of the landmark Metropolis building (inspired by Hotel Negresco in Nice), once the headquarters of an insurance company. It stands at the start of the Gran Vía and its cancan of proud facades celebrating the good times in pre-civil war Spain. On the horizon, the Guadarrama Mountains hide Segovia. Farther to the right, in the distance, skyscrapers mark the city’s north gate, Puerta de Europa (with its striking slanted twin towers). The big traffic circle and fountain below are part of Plaza de Cibeles, with its ornate and bombastic cultural center and observation deck (Palacio de Cibeles; described earlier). Behind that is the vast Retiro Park. Farther to the right, the big low-slung building surrounded by green is the Prado Museum. And, finally, at the far right (and hard to see), is the old town.
Descend the elevator and cross the busy boulevard immediately in front of Circulo de Belles Artes to reach the start of Gran Vía.
1910s Gran Vía: This first stretch, from the Banco de España Metro stop to the Gran Vía Metro stop, was built in the 1910s. While the people-watching and window-shopping can be enthralling, be sure to look up and enjoy the beautiful facades, too.
1920s Gran Vía: The second stretch, from the Gran Vía Metro stop to the Callao Metro stop, starts where two recently pedestrianized streets meet up. To the right, Calle de Fuencarral is the trendiest pedestrian zone in town, with famous brand-name shops and a young vibe (the 14-story 1920s Telefónica skyscraper at the corner was one of the city’s first). To the left, Calle de la Montera is notorious for its prostitutes. The action pulses from the McDonald’s down a block or so. Some find it an eye-opening little detour.
1930s Gran Vía: The final stretch, from the Callao Metro stop to Plaza de España, is considered the “American Gran Vía,” built in the 1930s to emulate the buildings of Chicago and New York City. You’ll even see the Nebraska Cafeteria restaurant—a reminder that American food was trendy long before the advent of fast-food chains. This section is the Spanish version of Broadway, with all the big theaters and plays.
Plaza de España: End your walk at Plaza de España (with a Metro station of the same name). Once the Rockefeller Plaza of Madrid, these days it’s pretty tired. While statues of the epic Spanish characters Don Quixote and Sancho Panza (part of a Cervantes monument) are ignored in the park, two Franco-era buildings do their best to scrape the sky above. Franco wanted to show he could keep up with America, so he had the Spain Tower (shorter) and Madrid Tower (taller) built in the 1950s. But they succeed in reminding people more of Moscow than the USA.
Madrid’s most visit-worthy monastery was founded in the 16th century by Philip II’s sister, Joan of Habsburg (known to Spaniards as Juana and to Austrians as Joanna). She’s buried here. The monastery’s chapels are decorated with fine art, Rubens-designed tapestries, and the heirlooms of the wealthy women who joined the order (the nuns were required to give a dowry). Because this is still a working Franciscan monastery, tourists can enter only when the nuns vacate the cloister, and the number of daily visitors is limited. The scheduled tours often sell out—come in the morning to buy your ticket, even if you want an afternoon tour.
Cost and Hours: €7, visits guided in Spanish or English depending on demand, Tue-Sat 10:00-14:00 & 16:00-18:30, Sun 10:00-14:30, closed Mon, last entry one hour before closing, Plaza de las Descalzas Reales 1, near the Ópera Metro stop and just a short walk from Puerta del Sol, tel. 914-548-800.
Nearby: Across the street from the monastery, the Caja Madrid exhibit hall showcases temporary exhibits that parallel those at the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum (free to enter, free guided visits available—must reserve online, Tue-Sun 10:00-20:00, closed Mon and between exhibits, Plaza San Martín, tel. 902-245-810, www.fundacioncajamadrid.es).
Thousands of pre-Columbian and colonial artworks and artifacts make up the bulk of this worthwhile museum, though it offers few English explanations. Covering the cultures of the Americas (North and South), its exhibits focus on language, religion, and art, and provide a new perspective on the cultures of our own hemisphere. Highlights include one of only four surviving Mayan codices (ancient books) and a section about the voyages of the Spanish explorers, with their fantastical imaginings of mythical creatures awaiting them in the New World.
Cost and Hours: €3, free on Sun; open Tue-Sat 9:30-20:30, Nov-April until 18:30, Sun 10:00-15:00, closed Mon; northwest of the city center at Avenida de los Reyes Católicos 6, Metro: Moncloa, tel. 915-492-641, http://museodeamerica.mcu.es.
Getting There: The museum is a 15-minute walk from the Moncloa Metro stop: Take the Calle de Isaac Peral exit, cross Plaza de Moncloa, and veer right to Calle de Fernández de los Ríos. Follow that street (toward the shiny Faro de Moncloa tower), and turn left on Avenida de los Reyes Católicos. Head around the base of the tower, which stands at the museum’s entrance.
A major renovation of this museum is scheduled to be finished sometime in late 2013. Until then, only about 300 of its most noteworthy pieces are on display. If you’re here after all of its rooms have reopened, you’ll follow a chronological walk through the story of Iberia. With a rich collection of artifacts, the museum shows off the wonders of each age: Celtic pre-Roman, Roman, a fine and rare Visigothic section, Moorish, Romanesque, and beyond. You may also find underwhelming replica artwork from northern Spain’s Altamira Caves (big on bison), giving you a faded peek at the skill of the cave artists who created the originals 14,000 years ago. (For more on the real Altamira Caves, see the Cantabria chapter.)
Cost and Hours: Free, ask about audioguide, likely Tue-Sat 9:30-20:00, Sun 9:30-15:00, closed Mon, north of the Prado at Calle Serrano 13, Metro: Serrano or Colón, tel. 915-777-912, http://man.mcu.es.
Painter Joaquín Sorolla (1863-1923) is known for his portraits, landscapes, and use of light. It’s a relaxing experience to stroll through the rooms of his former house and studio, especially to see the lazy beach scenes of his hometown, Valencia. The museum is best experienced when daylight streams through the house, which is how the artist intended for people to view his work. Take a break after your visit to reflect in the small garden in front of his house.
Cost and Hours: €3, free on Sun; open Tue-Sat 9:30-20:00, Sun 10:00-15:00, closed Mon; north of city center at General Martínez Campos 37, Metro: Iglesia, tel. 913-101-584, http://museosorolla.mcu.es.
This museum covers the history of Madrid in old paintings and interesting models. The entrance features a fine Baroque door by architect Pedro de Ribera, with a depiction of St. James the Moor-Slayer (see here). The museum has been undergoing major renovations and is re-opening section by section. All rooms should be open by early 2014, but confirm with the TI or call before you make the trip.
Cost and Hours: Free, Tue-Fri 9:30-20:00, Sat-Sun 9:30-14:00, closed Mon, Calle de Fuencarral 78, Metro: Tribunal or Bilbao, tel. 917-011-863.
This museum shows the history of clothing from the 18th century until today. In a cool and air-conditioned chronological sweep, the museum’s one floor of exhibits includes regional ethnic costumes, a look at how bullfighting and the French influenced styles, accessories through the ages, and Spanish flappers. The only downside of this marvelous, modern museum is that it’s a long way from anything else of interest.
Cost and Hours: €3, free Sat 14:30-19:00 and all day Sun; open Tue-Sat 9:30-19:00, until 22:30 Thu in summer, Sun 10:00-15:00, closed Mon, last entry 30 minutes before closing; northwest of city center at Avenida de Juan Herrera 2; Metro: Moncloa and a longish walk, bus #46, or taxi; tel. 915-497-150, http://museodeltraje.mcu.es.
In this simple little Neoclassical chapel from the 1790s, Francisco de Goya’s tomb stares up at a splendid cupola filled with his own proto-Impressionist frescoes. He used the same unique technique that he employed for his “black paintings” (described earlier, in the Prado Museum listing). Use the mirrors to enjoy the drama and energy he infused into this marvelously restored masterpiece.
Cost and Hours: Free, Tue-Sun 9:30-20:00, closed Mon, Glorieta de San Antonio de la Florida 5; Metro: Príncipe Pío, then eight-minute walk down Paseo de San Antonio de la Florida; tel. 915-420-722, www.madrid.es/ermita.
Have a look at traditional tapestry-making. You can actually order a tailor-made tapestry (starting at $10,000).
Cost and Hours: €4, by tour only, tours depart on the half-hour—some in English; open Mon-Fri 10:00-14:00, closed Sat-Sun and Aug, last entry at 13:30; south of Retiro Park at Calle Fuenterrabia 2, Metro: Menendez Pelayo, take Gutenberg exit, tel. 914-340-550, www.realfabricadetapices.com.
In 1968, Egypt gave Spain its own ancient temple. It was a gift of the Egyptian government, which was grateful for the Spanish dictator Franco’s help in rescuing monuments that had been threatened by the rising Nile waters above the Aswan Dam. Consequently, Madrid is the only place I can think of in Europe where you can actually wander through an intact original Egyptian temple—complete with fine carved reliefs from 200 B.C. Set in a romantic park that locals love for its great city views (especially at sunset), the temple—as well as its art—is well-described. The much-touted but uninspiring “grand Madrid view” only causes me to wonder why anyone would build a city here.
Cost and Hours: Free; April-Sept Tue-Fri 10:00-14:00 & 18:00-20:00, Sat-Sun 10:00-14:00, closed Mon; Oct-March Tue-Fri 9:45-13:45 & 16:15-18:15, Sat-Sun 9:30-20:00, closed Mon; last entry 15 minutes before closing; in Parque de Montaña, north of the Royal Palace, www.madrid.es (search for “Templo de Debod”).
Tourists risk leaving Madrid without ever seeing the modern “Manhattan” side of town. But it’s easy to do. From the Prado Museum, bus #27 makes the trip straight north along Paseo del Prado and then Paseo de la Castellana, through the no-nonsense skyscraper part of this city of more than three million. The line ends at the leaning towers of Puerta de Europa (Gate of Europe). This trip is simple and cheap (€1.50, buses run every 10 minutes, sit on the right if possible, beware of pickpockets). You just joyride for 30 minutes to the last stop (longer if it’s rush hour), get out when everyone else does, ogle the skyscrapers, and catch the Metro for a 20-minute ride back to the city’s center. At twilight, when fountains and facades are floodlit, the ride is particularly enjoyable.
Historic District: Bus #27 rumbles from Atocha Station past the Royal Botanical Garden (opposite McDonald’s) and the Velázquez entrance to the Prado (if you’re starting from here, catch the bus from the museum side to head north).
Look out for these landmarks: the Prado Museum (right); a square with a fountain of Neptune (left); an obelisk and war memorial to those who have died for Spain (right, with the stock market behind it); the Naval Museum (right); Plaza de Cibeles (with the fancy City Hall, the Bank of Spain, and other huge buildings); and then the National Library (right).
Modern District: The roundabout with a statue of Columbus marks the end of the historic town and the beginning of the modern city. At this point the boulevard changes its name. It used to be named for Franco; now it’s named for the people he no longer rules—la Castellana (Castilians). Next comes the American Embassy (hard to see behind its fortified wall, right) and some circa 1940s buildings that once housed Franco’s ministries (left, typical fascist architecture). Continuing up the boulevard, look left to see the Picasso Tower, resembling one of New York’s former World Trade Center towers (designed by the same architect), the huge Bernabéu soccer stadium (right, home of Real Madrid, Europe’s most successful soccer team, described later), and the Ministry of Defense (left).
Your trip ends at Plaza de Castilla, where you can’t miss the avant-garde Puerta de Europa, consisting of the twin “Torres Kios,” office towers that lean at a 15-degree angle (one has the big green bear logo of the Bank of Madrid). In the distance, you can see four of the tallest buildings in Spain. The plaza sports a futuristic golden obelisk by contemporary Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava.
It’s the end of the line for the bus—and for you. You can return directly to Puerta del Sol on the Metro, or cross the street and ride bus #27 along the same route back to the Prado Museum or Atocha Station.
For a relaxing ride through the characteristic old center of Madrid, hop the little electric minibus #M1 (€1.50, 5/hour, 20-minute trip, Mon-Sat 8:00-20:00, none on Sun). These are designed especially for the difficult-to-access streets in the historic heart of the city, and they’re handy for seniors who could use a lift (offer your seat if there’s a senior standing). Catch the minibus at the Sevilla Metro stop and simply ride it to the end (Metro: Embajadores). Enjoy this gritty slice of workaday Madrid—both people and architecture—as you roll slowly through Plaza Santa Ana, down a bit of the pedestrianized Calle de las Huertas, past gentrified Plaza Tirso de Molina (its junkies now replaced by a family-friendly flower market), and through Plaza de Lavapiés and a barrio of African and Bangladeshi immigrants. Jump out along the way to explore Lavapiés on foot (see description on next page), or stay on until you get to Embajadores. From there, you can catch the next #M1 minibus back to the Sevilla Metro stop (it returns along a different route) or descend into the subway system.
In the Lavapiés neighborhood, the multiethnic tapestry of Madrid enjoys seedy-yet-fun-loving life on the streets. Neighborhoods like this typically experience the same familiar evolution: Initially they’re so cheap that only immigrants, the downtrodden, and counter-culture types live there. The diversity and color they bring attracts those with more money. Businesses erupt to cater to those bohemian/trendy tastes. Rents go up. Those who gave the area its colorful energy in the first place can no longer afford to live there. They move out...and here comes Starbucks.
For now, Lavapiés is still edgy, yet comfortable enough for most. To help rejuvenate the area, the city built the big Centro Dramático Nacional theater just downhill from Lavapiés’ main square.
The district has almost no tourists. (Some think it’s too scary.) Old ladies with their tired bodies and busy fans hang out on their tiny balconies as they have for 40 years, watching the scene. Shady types lurk on side streets (don’t venture off the main drag, don’t show your wallet or money, and don’t linger late on Plaza de Lavapiés).
If you’re walking, start from Plaza de Antón Martín (Metro: Antón Martín) or Plaza Santa Ana. Find your way to Calle del Ave María (on its way to becoming Calle del Ave Allah) and on to Plaza de Lavapiés (Metro: Lavapiés), where elderly Madrileños hang out with the swarthy drunks; a mosaic of cultures treat this square as a communal living room. Then head up Calle de Lavapiés to the recently remodeled Plaza Tirso de Molina (Metro stop). This square was once plagued by druggies. Now home to flower kiosks and a playground, it’s homey and inviting. This is a good example of Madrid’s vision for reinvigorating its public spaces.
For food, you’ll find plenty of tapas bars plus gritty Indian (almost all run by Bangladeshis) and Moroccan eateries. On Calle del Ave María, Bar Melos is a thriving dive jammed with a hungry and nubile crowd. It’s famous for its giant patty melts called zapatillas de lacón y queso (because they’re the size and shape of a zapatilla, or slipper; €11, feeds at least two, closed Sun-Mon, Calle del Ave María 44). Nuevo Café Barbieri, one of a dying breed of mirrored cafés with a circa-1940 ambience, offers classical music in the afternoon and jazz in the evening (closed Sun-Mon, Calle del Ave María 45). The Indian places line Calle de Lavapiés.
Madrid’s Plaza de Toros hosts Spain’s top bullfights on some Sundays and holidays from March through mid-October, and nearly every day during the San Isidro festival (May-early June—often sold out long in advance). Fights start between 17:00 and 21:00 (early in spring and fall, late in summer). The bullring is at the Ventas Metro stop (a 25-minute Metro ride from Puerta del Sol, tel. 913-562-200, www.las-ventas.com). For info on the background and “art” of bullfighting, see here.
Getting Tickets: Bullfight tickets range from €5 to €150. There are no bad seats at Plaza de Toros; paying more gets you in the shade and/or closer to the gore. (The action often intentionally occurs in the shade to reward the expensive-ticket holders.) To be close to the bullring, choose areas 8, 9, or 10; for shade: 1, 2, 9, or 10; for shade/sun: 3 or 8; for the sun and cheapest seats: 4, 5, 6, or 7. Note these key words: corrida—a real fight with professionals; novillada—rookie matadors, younger bulls, and cheaper tickets. Getting tickets through your hotel or a booking office is convenient, but they add 20 percent or more and don’t sell the cheap seats. There are two booking offices; call both before you buy: at Plaza del Carmen 1 (Mon-Sat 9:30-13:00 & 16:30-19:00, Sun 9:30-14:00, tel. 915-319-131, or buy online at www.bullfightticketsmadrid.com; run by José and his English-speaking son, also José, who also sells soccer tickets) and at Calle Victoria 3 (Mon-Fri 10:00-14:00 & 17:00-19:00, Sat-Sun 10:00-13:00, tel. 915-211-213).
To save money, you can stand in the ticket line at the bullring. Except for important bullfights—or during the San Isidro festival—there are generally plenty of seats available. About a thousand tickets are held back to be sold in the five days leading up to and on the day of a fight. Scalpers hang out before the popular fights at the Calle Victoria booking office. Beware: Those buying scalped tickets are breaking the law and can lose the ticket with no recourse.
For a dose of the experience, you can buy a cheap ticket and just stay to see a couple of bullfights. Each fight takes about 20 minutes, and the event consists of six bulls over two hours. Or, to keep your distance but get a sense of the ritual and gore, tour the bull bar on Plaza Mayor (described on here).
Bullfighting Museum (Museo Taurino): This museum, located at the back of the bullring, is not as good as the ones in Sevilla or Ronda (free, Mon-Fri 9:30-14:30, Sun 10:00-13:00, closed Sat year-round, closes early on fight days and all day Sun in off-season, tel. 917-251-857).
Madrid, like most of Europe, is enthusiastic about soccer (which they call fútbol). The Real (“Royal”) Madrid team plays to a spirited crowd Saturdays and Sundays from September through May (tickets from €50—sold at bullfight box offices listed earlier). One of the most popular sightseeing activities among European visitors to Madrid is touring the 80,000-seat stadium. The €19 unguided visit includes the box seats, dressing rooms, technical zone, playing field, trophy room, and a big panoramic stadium view (Mon-Sat 10:00-19:00, Sun 10:30-18:30, shorter hours on game days, Metro: Santiago Bernabéu, tel. 913-984-300, www.realmadrid.com). Even if you can’t catch a game, you’ll see plenty of Real Madrid’s all-white jerseys and paraphernalia around town.
Shoppers focus on the colorful pedestrian area between and around Gran Vía and Puerta del Sol. The giant Spanish department store El Corte Inglés, a block off Puerta del Sol, is a handy place to pick up just about anything you need (Mon-Sat 10:00-22:00, Sun 11:00-21:00, see here). The fanciest big-name shops (Gucci, Prada, and the like) tempt strollers along Calle de Fuencarral or Calle Serrano.
El Rastro: Europe’s biggest flea market, rated ▲, is a field day for shoppers, people-watchers, and pickpockets (Sun only, 9:00-15:00). It’s best before 11:00, though bargain shoppers like to go around 14:00, when vendors are more willing to strike endof-day deals. Thousands of stalls titillate more than a million browsers with mostly new junk. Locals have lamented the tackiness of El Rastro lately—on the main drag, you’ll find cheap underwear and bootleg CDs, but no real treasures.
For an interesting market day (Sun only), start at Plaza Mayor, where Europe’s biggest stamp and coin market thrives. Enjoy this genteel delight as you watch old-timers paging lovingly through each other’s albums, looking for win-win trades. When you’re done, head south or take the Metro to Tirso de Molina. Walk downhill, wandering off on the side streets to browse antiques, old furniture, and garage-sale-style sellers who often simply throw everything out on a sheet. A typical Madrileño’s Sunday could involve a meander through the Rastro streets with several stops for cañas (small beers) at the gritty bars along the way, then a walk to the Cava Baja area for more beer and tapas (see here). El Rastro offers a fascinating chance to see gangs of young thieves overwhelming and ripping off naive tourists with no police anywhere in sight. Seriously: Don’t even bring a wallet. The pickpocket action is brutal, and tourists are targeted.
Fans: Casa de Diego sells abanicos (fans), mantones (typical Spanish shawls), castañuelas (castanets), peinetas (hair combs), and umbrellas. Even if you’re not in the market, it’s fun to watch the women flip open their final fan choices before buying (Mon-Sat 9:30-20:00, closed Sun, Puerta del Sol 12, tel. 915-226-643).
Classical Guitars: Guitar lovers know that the world’s finest classical guitars are made in Spain. Several of the top workshops, within an easy walk of Puerta del Sol, offer inviting little showrooms with a peek at their craft and an opportunity to strum the final product. Consider the workshops of José Romero (Calle de Espoz y Mina 30, tel. 915-214-218) and José Ramirez (Calle de la Paz 8, tel. 915-314-229). Union Musical is a popular guitar shop off Puerta del Sol (Carrera de San Jerónimo 26, tel. 914-293-877). If you’re looking to buy, be prepared to spend €1,000.
Those into clubbing may have to wait until after midnight for the most popular places to even open, much less start hopping. Spain has a reputation for partying very late and not stopping until offices open in the morning. (Spaniards, who are often awake into the wee hours of the morning, have a special word for this time of day: la madrugada.) If you’re out early in the morning, it’s actually hard to tell who is finishing their day and who’s just starting it. Even if you’re not a party animal after midnight, make a point to be out with the happy masses, luxuriating in the cool evening air between 22:00 and midnight. The scene is absolutely unforgettable.
