Pre-DIS Trip - Madrid
2025-06-28
First Encounter
I had absolutely no idea Madrid’s climate would be like this. As I stepped out of the airport , what I saw was a dry, desert-like landscape, nothing like the lush Mediterranean image I had in my head. But then again, it is an inland city, so I suppose it makes sense.
It happened to be just before Pride, and the city was filled with rainbow flags and symbols. After checking in , I realized that the LGBTQ+ district, Cheuca, was right in the city center. After dinner, I wandered the neighborhood, lined with gay bars, sex shops, and even rainbow-themed metro station exits. There were lots of queer couples walking hand-in-hand, and people of all genders and ages passed by without a second glance. This kind of non-judgmental atmosphere made me wonder when such normalcy might ever exist back home (though, honestly, probably not in my lifetime) .
s I kept walking, I ended up stumbling upon a building I absolutely love—CaixaForum Madrid, designed by Herzog & de Meuron.
Being there in person, immersed in the surrounding context, I felt that the renovation was beautifully integrated into the neighborhood fabric. What I didn’t expect was the water wall tucked away at the rear of the building’s base, and the entrance being just a tiny elevator, which felt a bit cramped considering the overall scale. While I was trying to take a photo, an guy accidentally stepped into the frame, smiled, and threw up a playful “yeah!” gesture.
As I kept walking, I eventually found myself at Viaducto de Segovia: a bridge stretching across one of Madrid’s valleys. The city isn’t entirely flat, and this structure made that elevation shift beautifully visible. It was around sunset, just as dusk began to settle. Tiny specks of light flickered on in the valley below, and the heat finally started to fade. A breeze picked up, and with it came the feeling that the Spanish night was only just beginning.
At 4 a.m. the next morning, I set off for Barcelona . On the way, I passed a government building that had been lit up in rainbow colors for Pride. Once I arrived at the railway station, I realized the entire boarding process was almost identical to what I’d experienced in China: security check, waiting area, platform entry, boarding. Even the train itself looked nearly identical. For a brief moment, I felt like I had been teleported back home.
On the way to Barcelona, I caught sight of a radiant desert sunrise through the train window. The sun rose slowly over the arid hills, casting a golden glow across the quiet, rugged landscape.
Back to Madrid
Back in Madrid after my time in Barcelona , and fed up with museums, galleries, and dealing with all kinds of life clutter, I found myself in a strange in-between state: there wasn’t anything I particularly wanted to do.
So I opened Google Maps and picked a well-reviewed local restaurant at random: Alcaravea. In Spain, mealtimes are late: lunch usually starts around 1:30 PM, and 8 or 9 PM is totally normal for dinner. I was one of the first guests of the day. The waiter, though not fluent in English, was incredibly warm and did his best to recommend the house specials. As I ate, I noticed that most of the other diners were locals: groups of friends, colleagues on lunch break, older regulars chatting quietly. Sitting behind a light curtain, watching them drink, eat, chat with each other, I felt a quiet satisfaction. Sometimes, that kind of immersion is just as fulfilling as the food itself.
After leaving the restaurant, I went to visit a university campus nearby . I walked in for a look: only to realize later that it wasn’t just one university. Instead, the area was made up of several smaller campuses, each enclosed by its own walls and security gates. It reminded me a bit of how Hunan University is organized, with separate blocks, but here each block functions as an entirely separate university. It was quite different from any campus structure I’d encountered before, and unexpectedly interesting.
With nowhere else to go that evening, I discovered that the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía offers free admission from 7 to 9 PM. The museum houses Picasso’s Guernica and was also recommended as a spot to catch the sunset over the city. So I rushed over.
The sunset turned out to be underwhelming. There’s no rooftop access, and the view from the glass elevator platform only offered a limited glimpse of the city skyline. But the museum’s collection was a pleasant surprise. It leans more towards modern and contemporary art, particularly works related to urban planning, architectural and furniture design in Spain. There were also many pieces by renowned Spanish artists.
While Guernica was as powerful as expected, what delighted me even more was the exhibition documenting its entire creation process. For me, that behind-the-scenes narrative was far more captivating than the final piece itself.
The special exhibition featured works by Spanish artist Néstor Martín-Fernández de la Torre, who spent his entire life on Gran Canaria in the Canary Islands. His paintings are deeply infused with a North African and Mediterranean aesthetic: vivid, expressive, and exquisitely detailed. They depict scenes of tropical deserts, the sea, and everyday life of the local people. It’s exactly the kind of style I’m drawn to.
On my way back, I passed by Madrid’s City Hall and the adjacent plaza, where I stumbled upon a charming little courtyard, quiet and delightful.
On the way, I happened to catch the only rainfall of my entire two-week trip. To take cover, I ducked into Chocolatería San Ginés to try the must-eat Churros con Chocolate. To my surprise, the churros tasted exactly like the dense, frozen mini ones you can find in Chinese supermarkets. The chocolate dip wasn’t overly sweet or rich, nothing too special overall, but that sugar-oil combo still delivers a certain kind of satisfaction. Despite the thunder and lightning, only a few drops actually fell. Madrid’s summer really is as hot and dry as they say.
After a brief rest, I took a cab in the early hours to leave Madrid for Porto. The airport is surprisingly close to the city center—about a 30-minute drive. What caught me off guard was how massive it is—its footprint feels almost as large as the city center itself.
Before I left
Since I had booked round-trip flights to and from Madrid, I returned to the city before heading home. I couldn't help but joke with a friend: there’s really not much left to do in Madrid. Sometimes I wonder if skipping Lisbon due to a tight schedule was the right call. But in hindsight, considering how much I loved Porto, maybe I wouldn’t have liked Lisbon more anyway.
It wasn’t until I came back that I realized the annual MadCool Festival was happening. Unfortunately, the tickets had to be delivered by mail, and since I was still constantly on the move, it wasn’t practical to buy them. I gave up on seeing Muse this time, but I trust I’ll get another chance.
Earlier in the trip, I caught a cold, so the first thing I did upon landing in Madrid was head to a pharmacy. I ran into a young guy who didn’t speak any English at all, except for the sentence "I don't speak English," which he had clearly mastered for customer service. The moment reminded me of when I had an allergic reaction while on exchange in Korea a few years ago, and a friend who was studying there helped me navigate the hospital. This time, I was on my own, but I had the confidence and maturity to handle it myself.
For lunch, I followed Google Maps to a fusion restaurant called Bardero. I arrived too early, so I wandered the nearby streets and noticed a river-like shape on the map. In such a dry inland city, its presence surprised me. Sure enough, it turned out to be a riverside park, though sadly, the water didn’t bring much relief from the scorching summer heat.
Under the blazing sun, I hurried back to the restaurant from the overpass. I had ordered casually, without expecting much, but the food turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The grilled vegetable salad paired with burrata and a Japanese-style dressing was unexpectedly harmonious, while the seared foie gras on toast delivered a perfect hit of richness, deeply satisfying with just one bite.
After lunch, I headed to Retiro Park. It was truly vast, and undeniably beautiful, but the heat was just as intense. I collapsed onto a shaded bench for an hour, yet the sweltering air refused to ease. Realizing I might actually get heatstroke if I stayed any longer, I pushed myself to walk through the park and make my way out.
I'll skip over the events of that evening, and just say that the next day I boarded my return flight, officially wrapping up this trip. A pleasant surprise came with the first leg to Doha, operated by Iberia Airlines: the in-flight meal was unexpectedly tasty, the entertainment selection was fresh and abundant, the cabin was sparsely populated, and the seats were spacious.
But the real highlight? The flight attendants looked like they were cast straight out of a male model agency: each one charming in his own way. It definitely made the flight a lot more enjoyable.