During the entire time we were in Madrid, I had an near uncontrollable urge to say everything with a lisp. Even in English. You must understand that this comes not from a desire to make fun of "Spanish Spanish," as I like to call it (Español de España), but because I enjoy the sound so much. It tickles my ears and brings a smile to my face, especially when someone is being very earnest and speaking in quickfire Spanish Spanish, like the Madrileños, as the people of Madrid are known. Thankfully, they are wonderful people with a sense of humor. They made our transition from the mean streets of Paris very easy. The minute we arrived in Madrid, it was as if a weight had lifted from our shoulders.

This was our last stop in Europe and our gateway to Argentina, as it's much cheaper to fly from Spain than from other European countries. While we really wanted one last detour through the Greek islands, we couldn't make it happen. So, here we were, with a few days to spare in Madrid ‒ a first for both of us. I had visited Barcelona as a child, but Catalonia is a world apart, as recent dramatic pushes for independence have shown. Madrid was, after all, the center of the Spanish empire, which, at one time, stretched from most of Western Europe to most of the New World. For better or for worse, this country made its mark on a whole continent and reaped the rewards.

Madrid is an elegant city, with remarkable architecture. Small streets and wide boulevards lead to historic squares and public parks. The whole place is teeming with life, as the locals go about their business, which seems to be a remarkably well-balanced mixture of work and pleasure. In the mornings, everyone stocks up on coffee and pastries. This is shortly followed by an appetizing lunch, which requires a break or siesta afterwards. Things calm down for a couple of hours, before everyone drinks more coffee, puts in another couple of hours of work and then gets ready for the evening. Once everyone is suitably attired and spruced up, it's time to hit the streets. Young and old alike fill the streets with the sounds of friendship, romance and adventure. They spill out of cafés, concerts and theaters. They sing, dance and drink copious amounts of wine. At some point, long past my bedtime, they retire for the night to sleep a few hours and then start all over again the next morning. It's remarkable! Of all the things I liked about Spain, this ability to divide the day into manageable and wholly enjoyable segments was my favorite.

While we didn't keep pace with our hosts, we did see much of the city during our four-day layover. We celebrated the First and Second of May, which are significant local holidays, by joining the crowds flocking to the massive central parks. We couldn't have asked for better weather, as we strolled along the lake, watching couples cruising the water in paddle boats and making out. We listened to street musicians and admired the buildings. We also managed to time our visits to Madrid's famous museums around the holidays.

The Reina Sofia Museum was free after 6 p.m., so we joined a long, snaking line, braving a sudden downpour, in order to see one of the most impressive collections of 20th-century art, including many impressionists, cubists and other moderns. This was one of our favorite museums, although it's becoming hard to rank so much beauty. Just for Picasso's masterpiece, Guernica, about the Spanish Civil War (and war more broadly), this museum is worth a visit, but there were rooms and whole floors full of bold, colorful paintings by artists we didn't know. By the time we were asked to leave (because the building was closing for the night), we were, once again, predictably exhausted. We felt like we had devoured a huge meal, gorging ourselves on art, only to realize we that hadn't left room for dessert: the magnificent Prado Museum, which we were slated to visit the following morning.

With a raging art hangover, we awoke the next morning, drank our coffees, ate our pastries, said "gracias" and "hasta luego" to the señorita in our local café. We walked through still-quiet streets in the early morning light, to the museum, unsure of how much more our poor, beleaguered retinas could take. There's a certain sense of saturation that can overwhelm the senses when confronted with too much art. It happened to us a year earlier at the Vatican Museum, which is a veritable assault on the mind, as every space is crammed with art, as far as the eye can see. It happened to us again at the Prado. It's a beautiful museum with gems by Hieronymus Bosch, Goya and Velasquez, among many, many others, but we knew we'd reached our limit. We saw as much as we could, before heading back to our favorite churros spot, Maestro Churrero, for one last snack.
 

There are dishes that we liked, including Spanish tortillas, the bocadillo de calamares sandwich and papas fritas, but the local version of churros was the best. They come in different sizes and flavors (with or without chocolate) and are then dunked in hot chocolate for good measure. It's decadent, but, when in Europe, you have to indulge. We walked it all off during the rest of our time in town anyhow, retracing some of Spain's imperial history, which is now very low-key, just like its royal family. The palace, for instance, feels very much like a relic of some distant past, filled with imperial ghosts. These monuments stand in stark contrast to the vitality of the people outside in the streets of Madrid, who are defining and redefining what it means to be Spanish today. While we didn't understand it well, we wished we had more time to enjoy the country, but added it to the list of places we long to revisit one day. Until then ¡Hasta luego!