© 2011-2026
A guiri I will always be, but today I am a guiri with a more typically Madrileño home. I moved far north of the colorful, historic central city, no longer stroll daily among rollaboard-toting visitors on Gran Vía, less often overhear tourists chatting in a farrago of foreign tongues at Puerta del Sol. I am…
(Nota: la mayoría de los enlaces están en inglés.) Un guiri siempre seré, pero hoy soy un guiri con un piso más típicamente madrileño. Me mudé muy al norte de la colorida e histórica ciudad central, ya no paseo a diario entre los visitantes con maletas con ruedas por la Gran Vía, ni escucho tan…
I am now a proud Madrid homeowner, post to tell what I think I know about buying a home in Spain (or in the capital, at least), and how the process compares to the equivalent in California. At the outset, I caution once more about plunking potential life savings on the counsel of a lone…
I have been busy with other things of late, haven’t taken time to post, and admit I write today mostly to keep this URL from oxidizing, or sprouting green fungi. I may have more to hold forth about later in the year. In the meantime: another installment of favorite words and sayings in español: Mas…
Tarragona is a Catalan port city near the high-speed rail route linking Barcelona and Madrid. The ancient Romans called it Tarraco, built a shore side amphitheatre and a circus for chariot races. Tarragona has beaches, a touristy old town and a cathedral, one of Catalonia’s largest. I hankered for a visit, and also craved a…
I’m free to write an ‘Ode to the Prado‘ post — and eventually might, as I’m now a card-carrying Amigo¹, visit often — but Spain’s flagship art museum hardly needs publicity. Three and a half million visited the Prado in pre-pandemic 2019; a million more descended on the nearby Reina Sofía. These are world-famous bucket…
As photographed at the Príncipe Pío mall on December 26. I was surprised, too. Spain’s little ones see Santa on TV, explained one Madrileña, clamor pitilessly to lobby the Bearded One for merch east of the Atlantic, too. Still a relative novelty in Spain, and not uncontroversial. What was so terrible about waiting for gifts…
The blue-shirted innocent at lower right above is about to enter Madrid’s Alsacia station: second to the last on the eastern end of the metro 2 line, in the city’s un-touristy outskirts. Alsacia straphangers can expect weekday subways every three to five minutes for a twenty-six minute shlep to the Sol transit hub in Madrid’s…
5+ years in Spain, and I still marvel at Madrid’s subway like a first-time tourist. I sip tea out of a Madrid Metro coffee mug, festoon my refrigerator with Madrid Metro magnets, pay dues to Andén 1, a local enthusiast group, own their book about the metro and a thicker official history published by the…
Industrialization drove thousands of rural families into Spain’s big cities last century in search of money and work. The fictional story of one is told in Surcos, a 1951 neo-realist film that chronicles the grim disintegration of the Pérez clan amid the temptations and shams of a heartless Madrid. A local screenwriter told me about…