Madrid: Where the Train Slows and the Heels Fly

Just before we began this trip, Spain’s high speed train system suffered a couple of tragic accidents. We always enjoy traveling by train, so there’s a little pause when heading out. The initial response has been to reduce the speed on the line so our train from Barcelona to Madrid is about an hour longer. For safety sake it is well worth it. We have window seats with a table, a delicious sandwich with some wine and chips/ crisps, and lots to occupy our time.

The ride through the Spanish countryside is fascinating. Farms and olive groves give way to desert and stone ruins. The train is comfortable and well supervised, so we are comfortable and secure. 

Arriving in Madrid we navigate the metro( albeit initially heading in the opposite direction at first) to our Airbnb. Changing locations is always a little unsettling. We pop out of the metro to a square under construction and an unease of our location. After meeting our host, dropping our bags and exploring our new neighborhood, all begins to feel more homelike. 

Our first night we have planned a Flamenco experience. Each month Flamenco Real hosts an evening of Flamenco, at the grand opera house, with some of the countries top Flamenco artist. The venue itself is a treat. Marbled stair cases, rich jewel/toned wallpapered walls, guilded artworks and chandeliers, give way to a Caberet styled theater with a lighted ceiling resembling the stars.

The stage is set simply with three chairs. The guitarist takes his seat, the two singers, a man and a woman sit as well, and the magic begins. The guitar is soulful and haunting. The woman, Silvia Miranda emits a note like a call to pray. Her voice is rich and stirring from somewhere deep in her soul. You do not need to recognize the words to understand. Then starts the percussive clapping as she and her male counterpart layer the rhythm. An occasional olé, an  ey from a fan, then like a phoenix rising, a young woman in a long,ruffled dress with a brightly embellished cream shawl floats up the stairs to the stage and explodes into a coquettish pose.

Her arms out stretch, hands and fingers gracefully curling, a slow click of her heels begins to intensify and soon she is bringing the lightning burst of sound, movement. Her dress is as much a character as her choreography, ruffles swishing, she strikes a pose still as a painting as the guitar crescendos and the vocals build and suddenly she is a bird, her shawl flying as she spins and stomps. She appears other worldly, the pounding of her feet clacking at machine gun speed with the guitar matching her staccato builds to a frenzy.

When it ends and the applause subsides, she again floats away down the steps and vanishes into the darkness as a new song begins. It is a visceral experience. If you are in Spain be sure to experience flamenco! It will inhabit your soul long after you leave the theater.

From the quiet rhythm of the countryside rolling past our train window to the thunderous cadence of heels striking the stage, this chapter of our journey reminds us why we travel at all. There is always a measure of uncertainty in motion—new cities, unfamiliar streets, altered plans—but there is also beauty waiting on the other side of it. Madrid has welcomed us with both grandeur and soul, and already the memories feel indelible. We move forward grateful, curious, and ready for whatever Madrid has to offer. Stay tuned.