My new Wednesday ritual

On Wednesdays, I am fortunate enough to only have three classes at the school, which means that I finish work at 11:15 a.m.

Needless to say, Wednesdays are my favourite school days…

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The first few weeks of the school year, I ended up wasting my half-day off by hanging out at home or doing something thrilling like the grocery shopping, but last week, I decided that I should expand my mind with more worthwhile activities (Oh dear. That sounds insufferably affectacious). I was at a bit of a loss as to what I could do, but then I remembered that on the way to the station, I pass a couple of small museums, and so I decided that Wednesday afternoon would be my Official Museum Visiting Time.

Today was Day One of my new Wednesday ritual, and I went to the Sorolla Museum. Here’s their website.

Joaquín Sorolla was a Spanish painter (interesting aside- well, interesting for me!-Joaquín is my absolute favourite Spanish boys’ name)  and after his and his wife’s deaths, his house and artworks were left to the state on the proviso that they be turned into a museum.

The museum is absolutely amazing, because it’s a perfectly preserved early 20th century house, surrounded on all sides by ugly apartment blocks, and with a main road right out the front (thankfully, the house is shielded by a beautiful garden).

Inside, it’s like a time warp, because all the furniture is original, and they’ve tried to leave it as it was when Sorolla died in 1923.

One of the most interesting rooms is the studio. The walls are covered in Sorolla’s pictures, and the unfinished canvas that he was working on when he died is still there, with the paints and brushes laid out in front. It looks as if it is still being completed, and the artist has just nipped out for a break.

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To be honest, I didn’t know anything about Sorolla’s art before I decided to visit the museum. From looking around the house, it seems that he mainly focussed on landscapes and portraits, using oils. It was really interesting to see that the faces in a lot of the portraits were being reworked, so I’m guessing that he mightn’t have felt so confident in trying to capture likenesses. This was comforting, and now I don’t feel so bad about desperately trying to avoid drawing faces in Year 10 art!

Of the completed portraits, I especially liked two, a self-portrait Sorolla had painted for his wife, and the other of his daughter. The self-portrait says “To my Clotilde, Joaquín” down the bottom, which is think is lovely.

So, this was my first educational Wednesday excursion. Hopefully, I’ll be able to keep it up! Madrid is full of small museums, so I don’t think I’ll run out of possibilities in the time I’m here 🙂

Coffee in Spain

As a keen aficionado of caffeinated beverages, the prospect of living in Spain for 9 months excited me immensely. After all, Italy is the home of coffee, and Spain is right next door! It would have to be good, right?

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Wrong. Very wrong. So wrong, it’s not even funny. Etcetera, etcetera.

For the past few weeks, I have being trying (progressively more desperately) to find an OK coffee. I long ago gave up on finding somewhere “good.” In fact, I would be happy with “passably decent” now.

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My face after pretty much every coffee I sip here.

I’m not sure if it’s because I take my coffee with milk (perhaps the espresso is better?), but pretty much every cup of coffee I have ordered has been so bad, as to be virtually undrinkable.

There’s a number of reasons for this:

1.The Spanish preference for UHT milk. I REALLY don’t understand this. When I was growing up, UHT milk was something that you endured when your family ran out of fresh milk. However, in Spain, UHT milk seems to be the preferred option. And when a coffee is made from UHT milk, it tastes, well, pretty horrible…

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UHT “milk”- stale and nasty. How true.

2. The fact that the baristas don’t know how to use the coffee machine. The other day, I went to a cafe with all its signs in English, and with “flat whites” on the menu. I was excited. VERY excited. Was an OK coffee in the offing? Ha ha ha! Although the menu promised flat whites (at the exorbitant price of 3 Euros each), the barista clearly thought that the definition of “flat white” was “lots and lots and lots of froth.” So I ended up with a cup of milky (UHT, might I just add) froth, with NO COFFEE!

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3. Taste preference. Yesterday, I went to a cafe with my Spanish friend. She ordered a decaf coffee (she specifically asked for a Nescafe SACHET- sorry about the capital letters, but this is important!!!), with UHT milk. For me, such an offering would be a fate worse than death. But my friend was absolutely delighted with this foul concoction.

I realised that things had reached a particularly low point when I went to what has been termed by the popular press “the best cafe in Madrid.” OK, it wasn’t THAT bad. The coffee was alright. But it didn’t set my world on fire, so to speak.

I would give it 3 stars.

Out of 10.

Nonetheless, some things about the coffee are good.

1. First, it’s cheap, only about 1.40 Euros for a cup. That’s the equivalent of $2 Australian. But when you consider how bad it tastes, even that seems expensive…

2. The whole coffee preparation experience is something to be enjoyed. When you order your repellent beverage, the waiter asks whether you would prefer your milk hot or warm. He or she then extracts the coffee, before appearing at the table, coffee and milk jug in hand, and making a big show of pouring the appropriately heated milk into your cup.

3. The cafes can be nice. I have found a couple of “good” cafes, where, although the coffee is typically horrible, they have papers (which, admittedly, I have trouble reading, given my lack of Spanish skills) and a nice feeling, which ALMOST makes up for the fact that the coffee is so abysmal.

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Cafe which I like

With this in mind, all I can say is that if someone is looking for a failproof business venture, setting up a cafe in Madrid, where the milky coffee is nice and well-made, is bound to attract a strong clientele of homesick Australian coffee snobs, if nothing else!

My birthday

I have been very lax with my blog these last few days, but I thought that today I would write about what I did on my birthday.

When I decided to come to Spain, I was acutely aware that I would be having my birthday quite soon after arriving, and that it would probably be a bit difficult. Although it may initially seem glamorous and exciting, moving to a new city and trying to make friends is actually REALLY hard. Consequently, I was worried that I wouldn’t have much to do on Friday, particularly as I don’t have work that day. And when I don’t have much to do, I tend to think too much. And that leads to a depressing downward spiral.

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Did I miss Australia and my family and friends? Yes, I did. A lot. I think birthdays and Christmas are particularly hard if you’re overseas. But did I have a nice day, regardless? Yes, definitely.

So what did I do?

In the morning, I spoke to Mum on Skype, and then I met my friend Kerly at the Madrid Town Hall. We went to see some great exhibitions there, and to admire the architecture, which is nothing short of amazing.

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Then we went to the rooftop terrace and had a celebratory drink, as we looked over the Plaza de Cibeles, and up towards the city centre.

In the afternoon, I met my conversation exchange partner, Carlos, and we went for a walk past the Royal Palace, the Madrid Cathedral, and the historic walls of the city. We then stopped off at Sol for a delicious Italian ice-cream, because, well, it isn’t a proper birthday without ice-cream!

Finally, in the evening, my friend Jan invited me to go to the Madrid Food Markets. Jan is a professional chef, and teaches cookery at college, so he was keen to go and try the 20 different types of tapas. I let him choose what we ordered, and we tried three dishes, including prawn empanadas, some kind of cutlets, and a fancy truffle mash. I’ve got to admit, the finer qualities of the dishes escaped me, but Jan rhapsodised about the “unique flavours”, so I assume they were good.

Yesterday, I went shopping, and I bought myself a present with the money which my Mum had sent me. It’s a cute jumper with cats on it, and I’m wearing it today 🙂

So, all in all, I will give the birthday the thumbs up, although I don’t want another one for a while, given that I am now closer to 40 than to 30! (How crazy is that?)

My favourite place to eat (and the best toilet) in Madrid

When I first visited Spain 4 years ago (2012! Can you believe it?), the offerings for people like me with Coeliac disease were a bit limited. I could buy bread and pasta from the pharmacy (!), but that was about it.

Two years later, when I came back again, things were better, and there were lots of gluten free products in the supermarket.

But this time, things have REALLY improved, because a Spanish chef who has Coeliac disease has opened up two new cafes in Madrid which only sell gluten free products. This is the website.

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This is the cafe on Calle del Barquillo

And, miracle of miracles, the things there actually taste decent. Well, more than decent. I am scared to say it, but they are GOOD. This is a pretty major achievement, given that the majority of gluten free food has the taste, texture, and general appearance of a piece of soggy cardboard. Not that I’ve eaten soggy cardboard myself, but you get the idea…

Since a friend showed me these cafes on my fourth day in Madrid, I have been back five times.

The first three times, I had cupcakes, but then I decided to branch out with the lasagne:

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And the steak sandwich:

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Everything I’ve eaten has been great. Apart from the coffee, which is absolutely appalling. I guess I can’t have everything.

But all this pales into insignificance when we get to the pièce de résistance– the toilets. See, the cafe on Calle del Barquillo is next to a five star hotel, and because it doesn’t have its own toilets, diners are “forced” (although that makes it sound like we’re suffering here) to use the hotel’s facilities.

And let’s just say, they are somewhat palatial.

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Sneaky shot of the toilet entrance that I took yesterday.

In order to get to the facilities, you have to walk through a lobby, which is filled with comfy chairs and with bottles of champagne on the table (perhaps they know that the coffee in the cafe is undrinkable?). You then casually press a mirrored door, which opens to reveal this fancy pants bathroom, which is all posh tiles, waterfall taps, and expensive fittings.

It’s fantastic.

In fact, I would even say that it is worth visiting the cafe simply to use the toilets. They are THAT good.

So next time you’re in Madrid, and looking for somewhere nice to go (“to go”- see what I did there?), all I can say is, remember Celicioso on Calle del Barquillo 🙂