{"id":537,"date":"2015-04-06T22:35:33","date_gmt":"2015-04-06T22:35:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/?p=537"},"modified":"2016-08-21T00:46:49","modified_gmt":"2016-08-21T00:46:49","slug":"madrid-unfiltered-april-4-reflected-glory","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/?p=537","title":{"rendered":"Madrid Unfiltered, April 4: Reflected Glory"},"content":{"rendered":"

Big day, Number Three. Where do I start?<\/p>\n

Went to sleep around 2am \u2013 blame it on those nightlife loving Madrile\u00f1os and tourists on perpetual spring break. Instead of being woken up, I just wait until it starts to slow down.<\/p>\n

Left the Prado<\/strong> to the amateurs on the weekend, I headed West, towards the Royal Chapel of St. Anthony of La Florida<\/strong> with ceiling frescoes painted by Goya and where he is buried, planning to stop along the way to see the Museo Cerralbo<\/strong>. It’s the collection of Don Enrique de Aguilera y Gamboa, XVII Marquis of Cerralbo, left to a dazzled nation with the proviso that it be kept intact, each painting and object exactly where he placed it. http:\/\/translate.google.es\/translate?hl=en&sl=es&u=http:\/\/museocerralbo.mcu.es\/&prev=search<\/a><\/p>\n

Along the way I saw an Easter window – it’s not about fluffy bunnies and peeps over here.
\n\"easter\"<\/p>\n

And the Church of All Grips (actually the entrance to a Medical Association.)\u00a0\"grip<\/a><\/p>\n

Then I walked into the Cerralbo<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

\"entry\"<\/a>Words fail me. So. Much. Stuff.<\/p>\n

The good stuff. Some inherited, some acquired. What centuries of influence, conquest and wealth can accumulate, and edited down to what he could shoehorn into a mansion in town. What the Hearst Castle yearned to be but emphatically isn\u2019t. More than the Frick<\/a>. More even than Isabella Stewart Gardener<\/a>, before<\/em> the heist. Every square inch of it the best money and power could buy. After the initial string of wow wow oh wow moments, it was like eating buttered foie gras in B\u00e9arnaise sauce smothered in whipped cream. Rich.<\/p>\n

Where to start. Okay, how about he never met a mirror he didn\u2019t like. Five seemed to be the minimum for every room.\u00a0 We’re talking large, in ornate gold leaf or Murano glass frames.<\/p>\n

\"mirror3\"\"mirror<\/a>
\nAlso chandeliers in bronze and horns and crystal; at least one per room and five in the halls.<\/p>\n

My favorite was an enormous Murano glass chandelier in pastel party colors, shaped like a gondola.<\/p>\n

\"gondola\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u00a0And sometimes you see both, like this chandelier mirror combo.<\/p>\n

\"vamirror<\/a><\/p>\n

Then there was the art. Every wall was crammed with paintings, not an inch to spare. In the dining hall \u2013 too grand to be called a room – mostly still lifes of flowers and fruit, with the puzzling exception of a large painting of porcupines fighting vipers. Not something I\u2019ve seen before.<\/p>\n

\"dining<\/a><\/p>\n

\u00a0 Just when you think you couldn’t possibly have anything in common with the Marquis, you notice the ceiling frescoes above the table, celebrating the Goddess of Chocolate and the Goddess of Coffee.\u00a0 Kindred spirit!<\/p>\n

\"choc2\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"coffee2\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The adjoining billiard room doubled as a portrait gallery. It also had raised settees, so the ladies could watch the balls in play. Thoughtful.\"billiard<\/p>\n

There was one hall dedicated to his collections of drawings \u2013 closed off by a velvet rope. Sad for me.<\/p>\n

Three floors of rooms meant there were withdrawing rooms for ladies, smoking rooms for men, morning rooms for flirting, bedrooms, dressing rooms, even bathrooms (with servants for plumbing), a library and his private office where he kept track of his realm. No doubt paid the bills and filled out his 1099s.<\/p>\n

\"office\"<\/a> Not a cube.
\nThere was a summer wing and winter wing – they lived in the wing where the light and air were best for that season. They could travel to their summer home without leaving the front door.<\/p>\n

The public reception room and hallway were lined with armor, plus the weaponry to go with. Ceremonial swords as a centerpiece? Check. Suits of armor complete with leather gloves and fringed skirts? Check.<\/p>\n

\"glove\"
\nScimitars, sabers, pikes, spears, knives, claymores, pistols and daggers? You bet.<\/em> Samurai armor? But of course. The message –<\/p>\n

I may be rich, but I am still a bad ass sonofabitch, from a long line of stone-cold killers. I can afford to lose more on one game of billiards than you will earn in your lifetime. Deal with it<\/em>.<\/p>\n

The marquis collected clocks \u2013 there is one in every room, all working and they strike the hours merrily as you wander, dazed, though this dragon\u2019s dream of a hoard.<\/p>\n

He backed the right horse \u2013 King Carlos \u2013 and won big. Having done that, he retired to enjoy his chosen passion, archeology, collecting art and objets d’art. Lots and lots of art.<\/p>\n

\"more1\"<\/a> \u00a0 \"More2\"<\/a> \"More3\"\u00a0\u00a0\"ballroom\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It’s sumptuous and luxe on a grand and unrelenting scale. After a while, you yearn to rest your eye on nothing much. A blank wall. Some white space. Apparently, the Marquis felt the same way.
\nThere is only one room on the tour that isn\u2019t jammed with loot, and that is the bedroom of Marquis. It is austere, with plain painted blue-gray walls, a white spread on a black wooden spool bed of medieval design, a\u00a0small bedside table that held a chamber pot, a shaving stand, and a wardrobe.<\/p>\n

\"bed\"<\/a>A cross hung by the bed and only two paintings on the wall \u2013 one a classic Virgin and child, the other, interestingly, Christ and Mary Magdalene<\/em>.<\/em><\/p>\n

I left after four hours\u00a0because they close at 3pm. I was reeling. I wanted to go sit in an empty room for an hour. I\u2019d still love a month in the place, with access to really look at everything. \u00a0I just sent them an email to beg for an English tour, which their website says starts in April.<\/p>\n

Off I staggered, hungry by now, and after passing several deserted places nearby\u00a0went into a pretty little bakery. Alas, it looked better than it tasted. Everything was dry as day-old bread and the coffee tasted like instant, even though I saw her make it.<\/p>\n

Walked on to the chapel, passed the Temple of Debod,<\/a> through a park and then on to a path that wound downhill, faithfully following the iMap on my phone. The next thing I knew I was crossing a ramshackle bridge, rusty and trashy, over multiple train tracks, with every surface sprayed with graffiti as far as the eye could see.\u00a0 It was dirty and deserted and I was very glad I had didn\u2019t try to walk to this chapel at night.<\/p>\n

When I walked up to the chapel, I found it was closed until 7pm. I was tired and sweaty and disappointed. Before I quit, I looked around and discovered its had a twin across the street and sure enough, that was where the Goya chapel<\/strong> was. I went inside the very small church and looked at the glorious frescoes and ceilings and his tomb, simple and roped off. Strategic mirrors allowed the visitors to gaze at length without neck strain. There were also plain walls and plain stone floors. What a relief.\u00a0 I ended up sitting on a bench and drawing his tomb and a lamp held aloft by three cherubs for about an hour. It was perfect. http:\/\/www.lonelyplanet.com\/spain\/madrid\/sights\/museums-galleries\/ermita-de-san-antonio-de-la-florida<\/a><\/p>\n

Here’s a glimpse of the reflected glory.<\/p>\n

\"glory\"<\/a>When you think about it, that’s what the accumulated treasure of the Marquis was meant to achieve; to reflect his glory. And what\u00a0Enrique really wanted was to potter around in the dust and rubble of archeological digs.
\nStarted back keeping an eye out for a taxi but saw none for about four blocks. I was still a 45-minute walk from my apartment\u00a0and was very happy to finally see a vacant cab and grab it. Of the miles I walk, at least a third are backtracking because I turned the wrong way. I do not lie.<\/p>\n

Decided to swing by the famous Mercado de San Miguel<\/strong>, a sort of upscale food\/tapas court, in a cast iron framed pavilion. It was lively and crowded and touristy, but in a good way. I bought some acorn fed jambon, a wedge of Brie cheese, and a cup of ceviche I ate on the spot.<\/p>\n

\"pork\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Not far to get to my apartment after that but I manage to find some Limon gelato to eat on the way. Yum.<\/p>\n

Cup of tea later I\u2019ve been writing this for a couple of hours. Time for some peppermint tea.\u00a0 Tomorrow the famous gigantic outdoor flea market, El Rastro.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Big day, Number Three. Where do I start? Went to sleep around 2am \u2013 blame it on those nightlife loving Madrile\u00f1os and tourists on perpetual spring break. Instead of being woken up, I just wait until it starts to slow down. Left the Prado to the amateurs on the weekend, I headed West, towards the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":558,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false}}},"categories":[19],"tags":[181,152,188,158,186],"class_list":{"0":"post-537","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-madrid","8":"tag-cerralbo","9":"tag-church","10":"tag-food","11":"tag-goya","12":"tag-museum","13":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/04\/office1.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7OBxc-8F","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=537"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2256,"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537\/revisions\/2256"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/558"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=537"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=537"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.virginiaparker.net\/travel\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=537"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}