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On the way to El Prado |
This morning, I rousted myself at a reasonably early hour, thinking I might grab breakfast and get to El Prado before the bulk of visitors arrived.
I found a little snack bar just up the street from where I'm staying where I made a connection with the proprietor when I ate there yesterday, so I returned there this morning. When I came in, he and two of his patrons were watching Spanish news. They were running a story about American politics, of all things. The Spanish reporters were speaking with the mayor of Miami, asking him what was behind the rise of
Donald Trump!
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My Spanish friend, who runs the snack bar up the street |
People over here are amazed and befuddled by Donald Trump, just like many Americans. Well, I felt compelled to let the folks in the snack bar know my thoughts on the matter. "Donald Trump!" I sneered. "
Yo soy un ciudadano de los Estados Unidos, y yo digo que él es una broma! Una broma!" I slapped the surface of the bar with the flat of my hand for emphasis. I couldn't tolerate the thought that these Spaniards might imagine that Donald Trump enjoys the support of most Americans. My friend smiled, but then grew sober. "
Tal vez, pero el mundo se vuelve más peligroso," he said. "
Cada día," I agreed. But now that I think about it, I'm not sure I believe it. We've always been on the
edge of disaster. There's nothing new in it.
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Desayuno |
Anyway, he cooked me up a breakfast of eggs, toast, hard cheese,
café con leche, and fresh-squeezed orange juice (they don't do concentrate over here). After my repast (which was most satisfying) I set off for the Metro, negotiated Madrid's subway system, and emerged in the general vicinity of El Prado.
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Compassion from the Spaniards (but why is the sign in English?) |
I can't tell you how excited I was to go to El Prado, to see the works of Hieronymous Bosch, El Greco, Rubens and Diego Valásquez. And, boy, was I rewarded. I was surprised to learn from a scolding, matronly exhibition staffer that photos were not allowed, but I managed to sneak a few anyway. (Don't worry. I felt appropriately guilty about it.) Here's some of what I saw.
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The Third of May, Goya |
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Apollo gives Vulcan the bad news about his wife |
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Christ crucified, Diego Valásquez |
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The Holy Trinity, El Greco. |
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This one really grabbed my attention. Not sure why... heh. |
My personal favorites were the works of Rubens and Hieronymous Bosch. Bosch's Garden of Earthly Delights was constantly surrounded by a throng of viewers and I never had the opportunity to snap a covert photo, but I include here an image downloaded from the web.
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The Garden of Earthly Delights |
And here's another downloaded Bosch work.
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The 7 Deadly Sins and the Last Four Things |
Bosch's works are full of symbolism. You can spend hours poring over them. I spent a good 20 minutes going over this one and, were it not for the insufferable crowd that mobbed the Garden of Earthly Delights, I could have spent an hour on it.
I contend that even the most
cynical atheist, when viewing some of these masterpieces --El Greco, depicting the Holy Trinity, van der Weyden's Descent from the Cross, Noli Me Tangere by Correggio --must hesitate in his convictions. The inspiration required to create such works seems (to me, at least) to be almost beyond human.
After about 2 hours of viewing, however, the senses are saturated. I departed El Prado in the early afternoon and walked back to my rented suite on
La Calle de Beníto Guitierrez.
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Cosmopotlitan Madrid |
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Don Quixote and Sancho Panza |
In the late afternoon, I took a walk through
Parque Del Oeste, just down the street. It is perfect fall weather and folks were out enjoying the park's many paths, fountains, and gardens.
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A decrepit bunker. Remnant of la Guerra Civil? |
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Beautiful day in Parque Del Oeste |
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Rosas |
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Sun sets behind an Egyptian temple. |
There is an Egyptian temple in
Parque del Oeste that was a gift to Spain from the Egyptian people. It was odd to be wandering through a park in the heart of Spain to come upon a temple that looked better suited for some solemn plain along the Nile. But that's what happens when you travel: you stumble on all kinds of perplexing wonders.
What a trip! I'm having a wonderful time. But I miss
Maty.
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This is the life... except I miss her. |
Ah, well. Like Bob Dylan says:
"I can tell you fancy, I can tell you plain
You give something up for everything you gain
Since every pleasure's got an edge in pain
Pay for your ticket and don't complain;"
1 comment:
Boy, this really brings it back. When we first came to Madrid, we lived in that big building behind Sancho Panza's head, the Torre de Madrid. My mom has a picture of me in my stroller in front of Don Quixote.
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