21st July 2024: From the Sea to the Butterfly (Madrid, Spain)

When planning for the day, the one thing I did not count on was the heat wave. I did take into account problems with trains, but apparently a half-hour delay is a non-issue by now and not worth mentioning. I reached Madrid around 12:30, and I had a reservation at 13:00 for a themed restaurant which had caught my eye when I saw it online. It was honestly a big disappointment, though I refused to let it ruin my day.

The restaurant is called Bestial, and it is ocean-themed. The pictures were awesome, it looked super cool, and I was pretty excited to go there. However, the experience was mediocre at best – I guess solo travellers are not their target audience, and it showed. As I was mainly ignored, I could watch how the restaurant worked. The waiters got the tables mixed up a few times, and they allowed others to take pictures with cocktails that were not theirs – that was weird, and I am pretty sure that against health code. I ordered a lemonade – the best thing – a tuna tartar and a crab bao without coriander, after checking that the coriander could be taken out. The tuna was tasteless, and the bao did have taste… coriander. All in all, I was not impressed by the food, even less by the service. Between the two dishes there were about 35 minutes waiting, and after an hour I just gave up and asked for the check, which was brought in a little book… and dropped halfway, then picked up from the floor… I just paid – the meal was not cheap – and left without dessert. A pity, really, but I really did not care any more.

Restaurante Bestial by Rosi La Loca

It was ridiculously early for my 16:00 visit, but I wanted to try my luck. I had chosen that day because CaixaForum Madrid was running two exhibitions that I wanted to see – Patagonian dinosaurs (which had just opened) and The Science of Pixar (which would end soon). The exhibition centre was booked out, so I could not sneak in before my time slot, but I managed to get my most burning question answered – how on earth were they going to fit a Patagotitan inside CaixaForum? Answer: they did not. They placed it outside, which was a fun surprise!

Patagotitan skeleton in front of CaixaForum Madrid

Since I had about an hour and a half, I decided to trot over to the painting museum Museo del Prado, part of the national network of museums, which I can access with my one-year card. I thought I might be luckier and the queue to enter without a reservation would work better. Indeed, I did not have to wait indeed, and I could have a look at a few of the masterpieces the collection holds (though not take photographs) – Francisco de Goya, Joaquín Sorolla, Diego Velázquez, Esteban Murillo, Fra Angelico, Hieronymus Bosch… Of course, not all the masters, because El Prado is enormous. It is also air-conditioned, and surprisingly, not as full as I half-expected. There was a queue when I came out, so I guess it worked out well!

I walked back to CaixaForum Madrid to see the two exhibitions I had booked. It was a bit before 16:00, but this time I did not ask, and just walked into the first exhibition – “Patagonian Dinosaurs”: Dinosaurios de la Patagonia, which had very little new information, and even fewer actual fossils, but a lot of dinosaur reconstructions. Those were cool. Aside from the Patagotitan mayorum placed outside, there were full skeleton replicas of Herrerasaurus ischigualastensis, Eoabelisaurus mefi, Leonerasaurus taquetrensis, Eoraptor lunensis, Condorraptor currumili, Brachytrachelopan mesai, Amargasaurus cazaui, Tyrannotitan chubutensis, Neuquensaurus australis, Carnotaurus sastrei, Gasparinisaura cincosaltensis and Manidens condorensis. There was also a Giganotosaurus carolinii skull. As for the real thing, a femur, a shoulder plate and a forelimb of Patagotitan, some teeth and vertebrae and a few invertebrates and leaves. It was really cool, and not extremely crowded for a dinosaur exhibit in summer. It was only the third day of the exhibit, so maybe it was not that well publicised yet? Out of the new species I discovered, Amargasaurus was my favourite – with the neck spikes it looked exactly like I would have imagined a dragon.

Patagonian Dinosaurs

Patagotitan front and back legs, along with a huge shoulderblade

The other exhibition that ran at the time was “The Science of Pixar”: La Ciencia de Pixar. It felt like a nerdy companion to Mundo Pixar, focusing on the maths and the process to create a Pixar film. Unfortunately, it was bustling with kids who – understandably – just wanted to smash buttons and make things light up. The exhibition had a lot of cool machines which simulate the different steps of creating a computer-animated film – rigging, modelling, lighting, rendering… The most interesting was an analysis called “What colour is this pixel?” taking into account movement, lights, shadows… It must be amazing to be able to visit the exhibit alone and be able to play with all the computers. I did find one where you get to simulate crowds using shoals of fish (from Finding Nemo) and I played with that for a while. There were also a few life-sized models from several films, miniatures and 3D mini-sculptures.

La Ciencia de Pixar

I left the venue after browsing the shop, and I walked down towards the theatre. It was still early, and I wanted to hit a couple of shops. Actually, I wanted to go to what is commonly known as the Primark flagship shop. The building Edificio Gran Vía 32 was originally erected in the 1920s to host the first department store in Madrid, Almacenes Madrid-París. It was designed by architect Teodoro de Anasagasti and used the most modern technology and materials at the time – reinforced concrete in the avant-garde style. The whole interior is built around an octagonal lightwell with a central staircase, and today the lowest four floors have been turned into the Primark shop, which has fitted screens and lightings while keeping the previous structures and railings. The modernisation project was undertaken by architectural studio RCCyP and it took three years until the shop opened in 2015.

Interior of Edificio Gran Vía 32

I continued off towards the theatre Teatro Real. I had a bit of time and some unspent calorie budget, so I decided to splurge at Starbucks with a whipped-cream Frappe for my pre-show snack. For the same price I had awesome third floor for Carmina Burana, I had a fifth-floor-in-the-back paradise ticket now. However, it was a lone seat with a great view, so I am not going to complain. I was going to watch the opera Madama Butterfly by Italian composer Giacomo Puccini – and sometimes I think that the better the singers are, the worse time I have with this show.

Madama Butterfly Promo

The main character is Cio-cio, a name that when pronounced in Italian sounds similar to 蝶々, [Choucho], butterfly in Japanese. When she is 15 years old, in 1904, Cio-cio marries an American navy man, Pinkerton, who intends to leave her and find a ‘decent’ American wife. Cio-cio is repudiated by her whole family when she converts to Christianity for her marriage. Three years later, she is alone, almost bankrupt, the mother of Pinkerton’s child, and a marriage broker is trying to sell her off to another prospective husband. Pinkerton returns to Japan with his American wife, who agrees to raise the child, but he cannot face Cio-cio because he is a coward. She (spoiler alert) prepares their son to go with him, then commits seppuku.

And even a bigger spoiler alert, I hate Pinkerton. Viscerally. My parents tried to start me into opera way too young to understand plots, I feel, and I did not want to do anything to do with it for a long time. However, at one point I wanted to see Madama Butterfly due to it taking place in Japan – being older helps, and I slowly learnt to appreciate the musical genre. Basically, by hating on Pinkerton.

Apparently, Teatro Real is known for its alternative settings and takes on classical operas. In this case, they let go of the old Japanese cottage in order to use… a modern-ish undisclosed Asian country. There was an overpass with Chinese signage, a billboard with McDonald’s and Bailey’s spoofs in Japanese (that did not make any sense), and the traditional cottage was exchanged for a greenhouse of sorts. There is a scene in the traditional opera in which the characters fill the house with flowers. In this case, they coloured the glass panes with hand paint. It was a great show.

Cast:

  • Cio-Cio-san: Ailyn Pérez
  • Suzuki: Nino Surguladze
  • F.B. Pinkerton: Charles Castronovo
  • Sharpless: Lucas Meachem
  • Goro: Moisés Marín

Artistic team:

  • Musical conductor: Nicola Luisotti
  • Stage direction: Damiano Michieletto
  • Set design: Paolo Fantin

Madama Butterfly Teatro Real

The show finished around 22:20. I walked up Arenal Street towards Sol. While I missed my first train because some people love to take up space while walking slowly, I made it for a good connection at Atocha, and I was actually home before midnight.

6th July 2024: O fortuna! (Madrid, Spain)

A couple of days before going to London to see Kamijo, I found out that a local music non-profit was staging Carmina Burana by Carl Orff in Madrid. Buying tickets (for that, and the upcoming opera Madama Butterfly) broke havoc with my credit cards, but everything was eventually fixed – I think. It had me stressed at the beginning of that trip, but it seems to be finally fixed. Again. I did have to miss Swan Lake in London because the credit cards would not go through.

Anyway, I had my ticket and though I would have loved to spend the day out, I was too ridiculously tired to take a whole day of sightseeing. Furthermore, the place I wanted to have lunch out was not taking reservations since they broadcast sports, and there was some big match or another. Yes, I want to go somewhere that defines itself as a sports bar, but that’s a story for another day (like the time I thought I could go to a sports bar during the Olympics because “Oh, well, there’s nothing sporty going on, right?”).

I thus decided to head off with a small pre-show plan, which turned out to be a great idea. When I alighted from the train station, the streets were clear for the Pride parade – I do not think I have ever seen the area surrounding Estación de Atocha so empty. I walked towards the theatre Teatro Real, but my first stop was the underground station of Opera, home to one of the Underground museums Museos de Metro de Madrid. Unlike the others, this is only tangentially related to the underground system itself – it is an archaeological museum, hosting an ancient fountain, part of an aqueduct, and the remains of a sewer.

King Felipe II made Madrid the capital of Spain in 1561, and aside of some brief periods of strife, it remains so to the present day. That has implied a lot of changes through history – among them, the destruction of the city walls, and the construction of an aqueduct to provide the city with water. When the court moved there, the villa of Madrid was little more than a village whose population skyrocketed in a couple of years. The new city needed services as it grew.

One of these was the fountain called Caños del Peral (literally something like “Peartree faucets”). The fountain was 34 metres long and it channelled water from the stream that ran down what is now Arenal Street. It was built in local limestone, had six faucets, and it probably was the largest fountain in the area where it was built in the late 1500s – the outskirts. Ironically, today it is quite close to the centre of the city, even the middle of Spain, the so-called “Zero Kilometre” in the square Puerta del Sol.

Fountain Caños del Peral

The fountain was destroyed during the reign of José I (Joseph Bonaparte, Napoleon’s brother, who was installed as king of Spain between 1808 and 1813). Caños del Peral, along with the buildings around the square, were demolished and used to fill the gorge that until then had separated Madrid in two. And in that filled gorge it was discovered in the early 2000s during works to refurbish the underground station of Ópera. Further works uncovered the sewer from the same period, a structure that channelled black waters away from the drinking streams for sanitation.

Sewer at el Arenal

The aqueduct Viaje de Amaniel was built around 1615 century to bring clean water to the Royal Palace, and with time it also supplied other properties. The infrastructure was heavily remodelled in the 18th century, after the Royal Palace was rebuilt into its current form after the fire that destroyed the original alcázar.

Section: Viaje de Amaniel

As I was coming out from the little museum and the underground system, I noticed a display reading that the underground / train station that I needed after the show was closed “until end of service”. Which was good to know beforehand, since I had time to replan my route – the trains were a mess in the evening due to Pride, and a few stations being closed off for crowd control. I grabbed a snack at the local Starbucks and headed into the theatre.

The Royal Opera of Madrid Teatro Real opened in 1850. It was originally designed by José Manuel González-Valcárcel, though it has been widely renovated, with the latest iteration dating from 1997. It is considered the most important venue for performing and musical arts in Spain – despite having been closed for decades at a time. Curiously, the theatre has the shape of a coffin – at first, I really thought that was my imagination, but apparently it is not only real but intentional.

Teatro Real: stairs and interior

I had found really good tickets, first floor next to the Royal Booth – for the same price, I would later get a fifth / sixth floor ticket for Madama Butterfly. The repertory had been put together by Fundación Excelentia, a non-profit foundation dedicated to promote and divulge lyrical heritage and musical values.

Carmina Burana Promo

Programme:
  First part:
  1. Beethoven: Egmont. Overture: Sostenuto, ma non troppo – Allegro
  2. Beethoven: Symphony No. 8 in F major, Op. 93
  Second Part:
  3. Carl Orff: Carmina Burana

The show was conducted by Juan Pablo Valencia and interpreted by the orchestra Orquesta Clásica Santa Cecilia, the choir Sociedad Coral Excelentia de Madrid, soprano Rocío Martínez, baritone Manuel Mas and countertenor David Miranda.

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770? – 1827) is considered one of the most important figures in Western music. Born in Germany, his works bridged the classical and romantic periods in classical music. His works are amongst the most performed in the world, even though he began losing his hearing halfway through his career. He composed Egmont around 1810 for a full symphonic orchestra, and Symphony No. 8 in F major, Op. 93 in 1812. The Symphony has four movements: Allegro vivace e con brio (F major), Allegretto scherzando (B flat major), Tempo di menuetto (F major), and Allegro vivace (F major). I am not the biggest Beethoven fan, to be honest, but it was good. The conductor had a great time.

My main reason to be there was the second part of the show: Carmina Burana (Officially Carmina Burana: Cantiones profanae cantoribus et choris cantandae comitantibus instrumentis atque imaginibus magicis which translates from Latin as “Songs of Beuern: Secular songs for singers and choruses to be sung together with instruments and magical images”, quite a mouthful). German author Carl Orff (1895 – 1982) composed the cantata between 1935 and 1936. Most of the lyrics are in Latin, though there is a bit of old German and even old French. The cantata has 25 movements based on 24 Medieval poems, with the first and last movements being the same: O fortuna, which happens to be one of my favourite choir pieces ever. There is one instrumental-only piece, and all the others have vocals – for choir, soprano, baritone and countertenor.

The twenty-five movements are organised in sections, which are officially five, but divided as:

  • Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi (Fortune, empress of the world): 1. O fortuna (Oh, fortune), as I mentioned, I love this choir; 2. Fortune plango vulnera (Regret for the wounds of fortune).
  • I. Primo vere (In spring): 3. Veris leta facies (The joyous face of Spring); 4. Omnia Sol temperat (All the things are warmed by the sun); 5. Ecce gratum (Behold the welcome)
  • Uf dem anger (In the meadow): 6. Tanz (Dance), the only instrumental movement in the cantata; 7. Floret silva nobilis (The noble woods bloom); 8. Chramer, gip die varwe mir (Monger, give me a coloured paint); 9a Reie (Round dance); 9b Swaz hie gat umbe (Those who dance around); 9c Chume, chum, geselle min (Come my dear companion); 9d: Swaz hie gat umbe reprise; 10. Were diu werlt alle min (If the whole world were mine)
  • II. In taberna (In the tavern): 11. Estuans interius (Seething internally); 12. Olim lacus colueram (I once swam in lakes) – this is the piece the countertenor sang, and I am not completely sure the guy was drunk, or playing drunk. 13. Ego sum abbas (I am the abbot); 14. In taberna quando sumus (When we are in the tavern)
  • III. Cour d’amour: 15. Amor volat undique (Love flies everywhere) I have to admit that I did not love the soprano, who sang for the first time at this piece – she sang well, but too low, it was difficult to hear her at times; 16. Dies, nox et omnia (Day, night and everything); 17. Stetit puella (There stood a girl); 18. Circa mea pectora (Inside my chest). 19. Si puer cum puellula (If a boy with a girl). 20. Veni, veni, venias (Come, come, please come) – these are the same lyrics that Final Fantasy VII’s theme for Sephiroth, One-Winged Angel has, and looking at the translation, now I understand why it was never intended to be the psychotic mass-murderer theme… 21. In trutina (On the scales); 22. Tempus est iocundum (Time to jest); 23. Dulcissime (Sweetest lad)
  • Blanziflor et Helena (Blancheflour and Helen); this refers to the romance story of Blancheflour and to Helen of Troy. 24. Ave formosissima (Hail to the loveliest)
  • Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi: 25. O fortuna (Oh, fortune)

All in all, it was a great experience, and I had a privileged seat. I really enjoyed the show, as it was expected from something at the Teatro Real. The gentleman next to me slept through the first part and hummed along the second, which was weird. The soprano’s voice was too faint and she tended to sing towards the other side of the theatre, making it hard to hear her, but the baritone was good. The choir was fantastic, and the percussion musicians had a perfectly choreographed exchange of positions to play all the small parts which was really amusing to watch. Especially one who hugged the gong to quiet down the reverberations.

Artists after the Carmina Burana Show

When I came out the theatre, I headed off towards the underground system and reached the train station, which took over 20 minutes – normally, I would have just walked to Sol and take the first train there to connect faster, and stay within the same system. As Sol was closed, this was not an option. When I arrived at Atocha, the platform was almost overflowing as the trains were running with long delays. I think I took a train that should have passed through around 22:30… at 23:00. I was not sure everyone would fit in the train, to be honest. Good thing that they announced a second one for a few minutes later. I made it home past midnight, took a shower and crashed because it was hot – Spain in July. What else is new?

30th June 2024: Engines, illusions, history and tea (Madrid, Spain)

Since finding about my tea time outings, my sibling had been wanting to tag along to one. I was asked to organise something for the weekend that involved either Chinese hotpot or afternoon tea in Madrid. The hotpot place was booked out both days, but I found an afternoon tea opening on Sunday the 30th. I am too lazy to move out just for tea, so I organised a bit of a day out.

After an uneventful train ride, our first stop was at noon: Nave de Motores de Pacífico, the former energy centre that fed electricity to the original underground lines. Today, it is not in use and it has become part of the network of museums Museos Metro de Madrid. The warehouse was built by Antonio Palacios between 1922 and 1923 to home the diesel engines, transformers and fuel that single-handedly powered the underground system before the Spanish Civil War. The system was actually in place until 1972.

Warehouse containing the old underground engines

The building was erected in red brick, with white tiles inside, decorated with Palacio’s typical metallic green. The floors are ceramic tiles, and the engines are three monstrous vessel-powering pieces of engineering. These diesel engines created electricity, which then entered the transformers, and was sent to the power lines to feed the trains. At night, the excess was sold to the local street-light network.

Since we were going for afternoon tea to El Jardín de Orfila, where I have been before, I knew lunch was out of the question. However, we needed a snack. I planned that at Yatai Market, an… Asian food court of sorts. A number of stands come together to offer different cuisines and snacks, even full-sized meals. We tried a Chinese bao each and a couple of dim sums. I ordered a hoisin duck bao which was extremely yummy. I will definitely come back to try other stuff.

HotBao Yatai Market Cortezo

Afterwards, we headed off to the so-called Museum of Illusions. This museum is a compendium of optical illusion and installations designed to fool the brain into believing things that are either wrong or just not there: a distorted room so you look big in one corner but small in the other (Ames room), a vortex where you seem unable to walk straight, a rotated room, a room full of mirrors – there were a lot of illusions with mirrors actually – stereograms with hidden images, turntables, holograms…

We had a reservation for 14:00, and I was surprised at how chaotic entry was. I mean, they’ve been running the thing for a while now, someone should have figured out how to do crowd management, but no. Then, there were kids running and screeching all around, but it calmed down after a while. I had really hoped that the museum would be calm and half-empty at lunch time, but it was not so, not by a long shot. It was interesting though, and pretty fun.

Museum of Illusions Madrid

However, the experience was shorter than I had calculated, so I had to improvise an extra stop. Thus, we entered the local history museum Museo de Historia de Madrid, which tells the city’s history since Madrid became the capital of Spain. There are paintings, models, typical costumes, plans, maps, and Playmobil sets depicting of the uprising against the French in 1808. The museum is hosted in a former palace-like building which was actually built as a hospice. To the side stands the original Baroque chapel. It also has a lovely garden with a monumental fountain, which was relocated from its original place for conservation.

Museo de Madrid exhibits

Museo de Madrid - chapel and fountain

We spent some time there and then headed off to the building that now holds the office of the Copyright Owners’ association, a manor known as Palacio de Longoria. It was designed by José Grases Riera and built between 1902 and 1904. It is one of the few actual Art Nouveau buildings in Madrid, possibly the most important one. The façades were made in artificial stone, with sculptures and shapes resembling vegetation. I’ve wanted to visit it for a long time, but it is only open when there is an exhibition, and the stars had never aligned – until this time. There was an exhibition about urban music, and I was not going to let go of the chance to see the monumental staircase and the skylight.

Longoria Palace

We finally set off for afternoon tea at El Jardín de Orfila. Out of the several places I’ve tried afternoon tea in Madrid, this has been my favourite to date. The outside garden is lovely, but mostly, their scones are the best around.

We ordered green tea, and the snacks were finger sandwiches – smoked salmon and cheese cream, classic cucumber and cheese, pastrami – pastries – carrot cake, macarons, lemon curd – and the scones. This time round, I decided to eat the scones after the sandwiches in order not to be full when it was their time. The afternoon was pleasant, but we shared the terrace with another table, and later a loud lady who wanted a smoke. That broke the magic a little, but the tea was fantastic and the scones were great.

El Jardínde Orfila: tea serving for two

Afterwards, we just headed for the train station to get back to our places. Of course we missed the correct one since they run whenever they like. What else is new? But the fun part was being able to pull a fun day out from my sleeve, and it was not stupidly expensive either, so good fun, all in all!

17th June 2024: Horniman Museum and Gardens {London, England, June 2024}

I woke up early-ish and got ready to leave. I stopped by the local supermarket to grab a coffee and got on my way towards the closest Overground station – this being London, it was not far. This was an easy commute since there were no changes, and I could just relax on the train. I got off on Forest Hill and walked up the… well, the aforementioned hill, until I reached the Horniman Museum and Gardens, in the Borough of Lewisham around 9:00 – passing a Costa Coffee on the way. I filed this information for later reference.

Normally, I would not have gone to a museum which had a Natural History Gallery closed for renovations, but they were running a dinosaur exhibit that created the perfect excuse to go there, even if it was a bit out of the way. Frederick Horniman was the heir to his family’s tea emporium in the 19th century. He started travelling the world around 1860, collecting artefacts from his travels, and developed the museum to exhibit them. The original museum opened in 1890, and the gardens in 1895.

The gardens are almost 6.5 hectares (16 acres), divided in different areas, including a bee garden, a sound garden where you can make music with metal tubes, a grassland garden, a prehistoric garden, a grassland garden… I wandered around a little and was surprised to catch a glimpse of City of London by the 1903 bandstand. I knew the gardens were a bit far out, but I had not realised how much.

Horniman Gardens with the City in the background

I explored for about an hour, then I headed towards the Victorian Conservatory, built in 1894 in Horniman’s private residence. A century later, it was transported to the gardens and restored by British Heritage. It is a quaint little greenhouse in white iron and glass, with pressed tiles on the floor. Next to it stands a little café that I would have stayed at if I had not wanted to see some of the themed flowerbeds.

The Horniman Conservatory

At 10:00, when the museum opened, I entered to see the exhibition Dinosaur rEvolution, which looked at the evolution of Dinosauria into birds. The travelling exhibition has five animatronics, a couple dozen cast fossils, several plushies and beautiful palaeoart. The T-Rex animatronic had some feathers, and the information notice asked the reader if they would find the Jurassic Park tyrannosaur less scary with them. I honestly would find a feathered Rexy even more terrifying. The exhibition was all right, with plenty of information, but there was nothing real, which was a bit of a bummer. But since it is a travelling exhibition, it makes sense they would not be moving around the real thing. However, given the ticket price, I expected something a bit larger.

Dinosaur revolution

After I was done, I decided to check out the rest of the museum. First, I saw the anthropological galleries, which had the most bizarre array of artefacts – from an Egyptian mummy to a Spanish inquisition chair, along Inuit costumes, European masks, African religious items, Indian masks, Easter eggs, prehistoric items from all around the UK… There was a wish tree, where you can write something on a colourful paper and hang it from the branches.

Horniman athropology museum

In the basement of the museum there is a small aquarium, which was full of schoolchildren on a day trip. I could have got the tickets online for that. However, I did not know how big the dinosaur exhibition would be, and I did not want to rush over. When I seemed to have the time, I decided to go down to the aquarium. It had a handful of tanks – jellyfish, coral reefs, Amazon rainforests, a lot of clownfish and a handful of poisonous frogs, mostly colourful stuff to grab attention. I managed not to get run over by the kids, which was a good thing.

Horniman Aquarium

After I had seen the aquarium, I considered checking out the Butterfly House, because those are always beautiful. However, since I knew I’d want to go back to the museum and gardens in a couple of years, when the natural history gallery reopens, I decided to head towards the train station. I would see the butterflies another time. That way I could be on my way to the airport with some buffer time without rushing my way through and stressed over connection. Instead, I checked the museum’s tea gallery, which summarised the history of tea and how it ties with colonialism, not pulling any punches towards the Horniman tea emporium itself. Funnily enough, the tea brand still exists in some Mediterranean and South American countries, but not in the UK.

On my way back to the station, I stopped at the Costa Coffee I had seen before for a drink and a snack. Unfortunately, the nice barista forgot to put the vanilla syrup into my vanilla latte – oh, the drama. Since the coffee was hot, I did not really notice until I was already on the Overground, and turning around was not worth it.

I had to change at Whitechapel into Hammersmith & City, but since I had the extra time, I decided to walk a little and go down into the Elizabeth Line, which, believe it or not, I had never used before. The commute time was the same anyway. The platforms felt so new and clean, lacking the grit that other stations have – not that they are dirty, really. They’re just… not that new or aseptic.

Even with the little detour, I reached Liverpool Street with time to take an earlier train than I had originally given myself as ideal – which is a couple of trains earlier than the one I would need to be right on time, but since that time the train just did not reach the airport, I’ve lost some faith in the Stansted Express. I went to the end of the platform, and sat down in the first carriage of the train. I was the only person there, even after the conductor announced that “the first carriage was almost empty, please move forward for comfort so the rear of the train is less crowded.” Happy to be an “almost”, I guess – and good that the carriage did not become anything close to full during the trip.

There were no issues reaching the airport, but security was crazy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many queues, and so long ever. When my backpack was flagged for secondary inspection I understood why – the person in front of me was told he was carrying “too many contact lenses”, and my tiny handcuffs key chain was apparently extremely threatening. Then they needed to check aaaall the electronics, and my boots. However, the security guard said that he was sorry and that I should not have been pulled over because of the key chain. I’ve never had a security officer apologise to me for pulling me over for secondary inspection – and honestly, that was the key chain I bought for my first apartment… in 2001? I’ve flown with it before countless of times… Hilarious…

I put on my boots, and headed off to buy some sushi at the Stansted Itsu. Sadly, the quiet area has stopped being so – they have closed the upstairs toilets and now they send everyone downstairs, so it was packed with holidaymakers and people hyping up toddlers, which I find a horrid mistake to make just before jumping on a plane. Thus, I drank my miso soup, ate my sushi, and buggered off to wander the airport – better than the cacophony of kiddos running, squealing and acting up. The airport was full, and while I am usually better at dealing with other travellers, I had been looking forward to the “quiet area”. Either that or I was a bit tired and everyone was rubbing me off the wrong way, I guess.

When it was time to board, queue went extremely slowly. The airline line personnel were being extremely picky with the luggage, measuring every backpack and trolley. Eventually, the slow process made departure late, so the end of the queue was rushed. They barely eyed my backpack, though I was asked to turn around to show it to the check-in agent.

The plane was full and way too many people were not aware of “boarding from the rear door” when their seat number was high, causing a bit of a jam. I found my seat, huddled in, and shut off for a while. I woke up with 40 minutes to land. When we did, we took a bus which conveniently left us right in front of passport control. The only problem on arrival? It was 31 ºC and sunny, and I was wearing clothes chosen for the 13 ºC and rain in London. I guess the order of digits is… important when you’re wearing longs sleeves, layers, and knee-high boots – which by the way I think have seen their last concert trip. RIP. You will be missed, cool concert boots.

16th June 2024: Southwark, the National Gallery and Kamijo at The Garage {London, England, June 2024}

According to the weather forecast, there was a chance of rain in London in the morning. When I got up and drew the curtains open, it was actually pouring, so I decided to wait the rain out. When I left the hotel around 9:00 to head to the queue, there was still a bit of drizzle which cleared as I was walking. However, when I reached the venue, I was surprised to find a notice on the door “We reserve the right to refuse entry. Anyone queueing before 16:00 will be refused entry.” Ho-kay, that sign had not been there the evening before – or I would have planned accordingly. I shrugged it off and resolved to make the most out of the morning and early afternoon, and be back at 16:00 sharp. I mean, what else could I do, mope at the hotel?

I took the Underground to the London Bridge stop, in Southwark. The first thing I came across was Borough Market, which had never even been in my radar before – I tend to stay on the other bank of the Thames. The market is an Art Decó building designed by Henry Rose in 1851. As a business, it had been in operation for centuries at the time though, and the building would get many refurbishments in the following years. Borough Market claims to be place for sustainable products with a short supply chain. There were wholesalers, coffee brewers, tapas bars and for some reason a bunch of guys yelling that everyone should try their mushroom risotto. The area was packed, and it was almost impossible to get a good picture.

Borough Market

Next to the market, stands Southwark Cathedral, officially Cathedral and Collegiate Church of St Saviour and St Mary Overie. London has four cathedrals: St. Paul and Southwark are Anglican, and Westminster and St. George are Catholic. Southwark Cathedral has stood in place for at least a thousand years. However, there is a legend that places its foundation in the early 600s, and there is archaeological evidence of a Roman road dating even further in time. The current structure is gothic, erected after the previous building was damaged in an area-wide fire in 1212, then transformed with the passing centuries. In the 19th century it was “remedievalised”, and in the 20th it became damaged by the Blitz and requited restoration. Today, it prides itself in being LGTB-friendly and having a resident cat, Hodge. It is also common that a fox, nicknamed Richard, visits the garden. Not sure either keeps the cathedral mouse- or rat-free, or they are too full with treats from the congregation.

Southwark cathedral - outside and nave

Southwark Cathedral details

After the cathedral, I headed to the actual reason I was in Southwark, The Old Operating Theatre Museum and Herb Garret. The museum is located in the attic of a former church – in other to access it, you have to climb up a spiral staircase with 52 steps, up the bell tower. The church was attached to a medieval hospital, in whose attic (or garret) the apothecaries dried medicinal herbs and stored medicines. In 1822, this garret became an operating theatre, with a huge skylight built in order to let light in – we are talking about a time when surgery was performed without anaesthetics, painkillers or antibiotics. The hospital was abandoned some 40 years later, and the theatre was lost to time, until it was rediscovered in 1952 – it is considered the oldest surviving operating theatre in Europe.

The museum has a small collection of pathology specimens, a bigger one of nightmarish medical tools, and a reconstruction of an apothecary shop, with a counter and a lot of herbs, and informative panels. Funnily enough, it also runs through the history of medicine, and the great London epidemics using… rubber duckies. Not collecting rubber duckies is becoming more and more difficult… Anyway, these particular rubber duckies have been painted and modelled over, and next to them there is a list of symptoms. From those, you need to diagnose the duckie with “silent killers of the past” – measles, tuberculosis, cholera…

The duckies were a good comic relief of sorts from the pathology collection and specimens, the pre-science artefacts, and the history underlying at the theatre itself. The theatre had several rows of stands where people watched / learnt from the operation while the patients were awake – allowing the procedures to be public was the only way poor people had access to medical treatment and the good surgeons. Honestly, the idea of surgery is scary enough, but just thinking about amputation without anaesthetics makes me shiver. Especially when you see what was used for it – basically a handsaw – with spectators.

The Old Operating Theatre and apothecary

It was still early afternoon, so I hopped onto the Underground towards Charing Cross and Trafalgar Square. I had not seen The National Gallery London since I was a child, and I remembered next to nothing of it, so I wanted to revisit it. The National Gallery, in the City of Westminster borough, dates back from 1824, when the government bought 38 paintings from a private collector – and it has been continuously expanding since then. The current building was designed by William Wilkings in 1832, and opened in 1838. the collection comprises over 2,000 paintings by 750 artists, among them Giotto, Leonardo da Vinci, Dürer, Michelangelo, Raphael, Tintoretto, Veronesse, El Greco, Caravaggio, Velázquez, van Dyck, Rembrandt, Vermeer, Canaletto, Goya, Constable, Delacroix, Degas, Monet, van Gogh…

Here’s the fun thing, I always thought I liked the impressionists, but it turns out that seeing Monet’s Water Lilies myself was rather underwhelming. Conversely, I found myself enjoying British landscapers a lot, especially Constable. I spent a few hours in here, looking for the masterpieces, but a lot of them were on loan to other sites.

National Gallery London

At one point I was taking a photograph and a gentleman thought he was on my way. When I reassured him he was not bothering me, he said something akin to “That’s because you’re a professional”. I wonder, a professional what? I was not carrying a camera or anything, just the phone…

I did a run throughout the whole gallery, and I was considering staying at the café for a bite, but… I was rather close to Leicester Square… so I thought I could walk there and check if I could have lunch at Coco Curry or somewhere in Chinatown. The line at Coco was rather short – surprisingly, since the Chinatown Coco is always pretty full. Thus, I decided to wait it out and have lunch there – after all, it is the “iconic” one, and the previous time I had only visited the Bond Street shop. I’m not sure when Coco became the feeling of a taste of Japan, but it is one of my favourite food places.

Coco Curry Leicester Square

I had a bit of extra time. Not much for exploring, too long to just stay at the restaurant. I wandered Chinatown a little, and then got to Leicester Square. I’ve been to the Lego store, and the M&Ms place, but there is also a tea boutique, the TWG Tea Shop which I had never stepped into. I did it this time, and I was really tempted by a few of the green teas in pretty tins. I however talked myself out of buying any, since it would be silly to take them to the concert, and if a water bottle is a hazard, I cannot imagine what would be thought of a metal box.

Instead, I headed back to Trafalgar Square and stepped into the church Saint Martin-in-the-Fields. This ancient church was rebuilt in the 1720s by James Gibbs – though it was originally “in the fields”, in the outskirts, by this time it was already part of the city. It is a simple rectangular nave with Corinthian columns and a vaulted ceiling. The church holds choir concerts every Sunday afternoon, and I sat there listening to the music for a bit. I then I headed off to Charing Cross to take the underground towards the venue and the surprise of my life.

The church of St Martin in the Fields

I arrived at The Garage for Kamijo’s Europa Tour 2024 “The Anthem” at 16:00 sharp thinking the queue would be assembling, but no. Apparently there was some “secret parallel queue” going on somewhere – there were between 40 and 50 people there already, so I only got the 18th place due to my type of ticket. I was a bit disappointed, but oh well, what can you do? Nothing any more, so I did not dwell on it. The promoter had actually sent a schedule in advance, saying that doors would be at 19:00 for the VVIPs and showtime at 20:30. Of course, it would not be followed, but it was good having an approximate timetable.

Queuing was okay, not extremely long since we actually went in around 18:30. There was a lady organising the line and giving out the numbers, and the venue staff were willing to go along that, so even if there was a “secondary queue”, there were no issues that I know of. The venue was a bit weird. There were a couple of stairs and a small hall before the actual concert hall. In that tiny hall, all painted black and stuck between the two fire doors, and under horrible lighting, stood Kamijo and his dazzling smile, ready for the meet and greets and pictures for the VVIPs and handshakes for the VIPs.

Kamijo The Anthem poster

I walked in, he gave me a warm smile, and said ‘bonjour’. I smiled back. I don’t know whether I’m getting old, or that sitting on the floor with Yoshiki was a game changer for my brain. And despite the fact that I’ve been neglecting my Japanese, I was able to convey my message. He was adorable. I said something like “There is no ‘I’ve missed you’ in Japanese, but it’s really been a long time.” A staff took our picture, he said thank you again, I said thank you back, then walked into the venue. I received my signed poster – a grey A4 signed in black. Apparently, gold or silver markers were out of the budget…

The barrier was almost completely full, but I was able to squeeze on the left, amongst the people I had queued with, closer to the centre of the stage than I had even hoped. Truth is that Kamijo tends to go to the right more often than to the left than the right, but since he holds his microphone with the left hand, you don’t see his face, so I was happy with my place. However, the hour and a half until concert started felt pretty long, since I was quite squeezed in. Maybe I should have sat, I don’t know. The concert started around 20:00, and it was no pictures of videos allowed.

The supporting musicians were Hiro on guitar – Hiro was also the guitar in La’cryma Christi, one of the most important V-kei bands in the 90s. Also on guitar came Yohio, a Swedish artist who managed to break into the Japanese scene a few years back – he actually got a lot of hate at the beginning, so good that he received some love. On bass came Ikuo (Bykk Zeichen 88, Rayflower), and on drums Ushi (Vorchaos). I’m not sure who the sound tech was, but he or she deserves to be yelled at – for about the first third of the concert Kamijo’s microphone was powerless, to the point that his voices was inaudible at times. There were a few songs I did not know (or was unable to identify due to the noise), amongst them the song that gives the tour its name: The Anthem.

Sound was so bad that at times I could not hear what Kamijo was saying, much less understand it. However, he sang two of my favourite songs, Moulin Rouge and Eye of Providence, and I was lucky enough that he repeated my favourite line twice. Despite my being amused by his idealisation of Napoleon, there is a line in Sang I (it took me stupidly long to realise that sang is French for ‘blood’) that resonates a lot with me: ‘Just like flying with the wind: no pain, only gain’. He started the song and interrupted himself halfway to make the musicians greet the audience in English. He either forgot he was going to do an emcee, or since he said it was his favourite song, he wanted to sing it twice.

He had fun, and unlike other times I’ve seen him, he indulged in a lot of “fan service” with the musicians, which sent the crowd screaming. Aside from the sound issue, there was one other hiccup during the concert. At one point Kamijo tripped over a wire, stumbled and ended up almost sitting down on the drums, but he did not fall, which was good.

Setlist:
  1. 闇夜のライオン (Yamiyo no lion)
  2. Conspiracy
emcee, with Kamijo saying he was glad to be back in London, and inviting the audience to go to Paris with him.
  3. Moulin Rouge
  4. The Anthem
  5. Louis 〜艶血のラヴィアンローズ〜 (Louis ~Enketsu no la vie en rose)
  6. 運命 (Unmei)
  7. Eye of Providence
  8. Habsburg
  9. mademoiselle
  10. CRIMSON FAMILY
  11. Castrato
  12. Beautiful Rock’n Roll
  13. 薔薇は美しく散る (Bara wa Utsukushiku Chiru; song by Lareine, Kamijo’s first band)
  14. Sang I & emcee, where the musicians said what the tour had meant for them
  15. Sang II
  16. Nosferatu
emcee
  17. Avec toi〜君と共に〜
  18. NOBLESS OBLIGE part 1
  19. Throne
  20. NOBLESS OBLIGE part 2
  21. Vampire Rock Star

During the emcees Kamijo said that he was glad to be back to Europe / the UK, and that he was especially happy to be in London. He talked about how great the tour had been, and how amazing an audience we were – though he tells that to everyone anyway. All in all, I had a lot of fun, enjoyed myself, clapped during mademoiselle and even jumped (once, I’m not that crazy) during Vampire Rockstar. Whenever his musicians or himself sing / yell the chorus, the words ‘vampire rockstar’ come out as ‘vampire lobster’. This time, he made the audience yell them all, so considering this was London, it sounded correctly for once.

Snippets pre and post Kamijo's The Anthem concert

After the concert, which lasted a bit over two hours, I bought a sandwich at the open-late supermarket next to The Garage, and headed to the hotel for a shower and sleep. I kind of… forgot to go to bed though. God, I love concert highs, as short as they are. It is always hard to come back to reality, but there was still half a day before that.

15th June 2024: The Old Naval College, and a mishap {London, England, June 2024}

I am getting weirdly used to 5:00 wake-up calls. I drove to the airport and arrived at the long-stay parking lot just before 6:00, with the exact time to catch the bus at the nearest stop. I might be getting too comfortable with timings – either that, or the flights have started taking off a bit later, because I remember having to leave by 3:45 for the first Ryanair flight a few years back. Anyway, security was nice and smooth, but passport control was maddeningly slow – the shiny brand-new machines the airport has spent a fortune on were not working, and there were only two agents, and three flights leaving around the same time.

We left on time and landed on time too, and since works at London Stansted have been finished, I was fast out of immigration. I considered going to the hotel first thing in the morning in order to make sure the credit card went through – and have time to find an exchange office if it did not. When I was able to buy my usual breakfast in the Costa at the arrival area without an issue, I decided I should be all right. Thus, I just headed off towards the centre, reached Liverpool Street station, and transferred to the TfL system. I got a bit confused at the DLR. London’s railway is divided in the Underground, the Overground and the Docklands Light Railway or DLR, which are mostly automatic trains which involve more transfers than I had expected. I needed to backtrack a station or two before I got to my final destination, the area know as Isle of Dogs in the borough of Tower Hamlets. I’ve recently found out that there is a footpath under River Thames which connects the Isle of Dogs with Greenwich. The footpath, the Greenwich foot tunnel, was built from 1899 onwards, and it opened in 1902. You can literally walk from one bank of the Thames to the other in just a few minutes!

Old Royal Naval College from across River Thames

The tunnel was damaged during World War II, and there is a section which is held together by an inner steel lining. The whole tunnel is lit and either painted or tiled in white, so it does not give off any kind of claustrophobic feeling. Something cool that happened to me was that I could actually feel the water running above me, similarly to how I feel when I’m standing on a bridge and look at the river underneath. That was unexpected. Though there are lifts – the original ones were installed in 1904, but there are new ones from 2012 – I took the stairs.

Greenwich foot tunnel

I stepped out of the tunnel and into Greenwich, next to the Cutty Sark. I have already visited the museum inside the ship. This time around, I was going to try to see the Old Royal Naval College, which has been closed whenever I’ve tried to see it – they film rather often there. This time it was actually open to visitors.

The Old Royal Naval College, today part of the Maritime Greenwich UNESCO World Heritage Site, was originally designed as a veteran home and hospital. The current iteration of the building was designed by Christopher Wren – also responsible for St Paul’s Cathedral. The complex has two complexes or courts, Queen Mary Court on the left from the river, King William Court on the right. William III (reigned 1689 – 1702) and Mary II (reigned 1689 – 1694) were offered the throne as joint monarchs when their predecessor James VII and II was declared unfit because he became a Catholic. The building served as hospital and hospice until 1869; later, in 1873 it became a training academy for the Royal Nay until 1998.

I first went into the Chapel of St Peter & St Paul in Queen Mary Court. It was reconstructed after a fire by James ‘Athenian’ Stuart in the neoclassical style. It has one nave, and a wood ceiling decorated with naval themes. The altar piece was painted by Benjamin West. I found the chapel quite beautiful, it gave off a warm feeling. The security personnel were also very nice.

Old Royal Naval College chapel

Then, I headed off to King William Court, to the pièce de résistance of the building. The Painted Hall is a huge ward decorated with Baroque paintings by Sir James Thornhill. The ceiling and walls are painted to honour the kings and queens who gave their patronage to the “Royal Hospital for Seamen at Greenwich”, depicting them surrounded by mythological and allegoric figures. The art was impressive, and the volunteer who explained it was a former teacher who made the whole tour really informative. While I usually avoid guided visits as much as I can, I found the painting too complex to interpret on my own.

Old Royal Naval College - Painted hall

I backtracked through the Greenwich foot tunnel and took the Underground towards the Victoria & Albert Museum. Last time I was over they were running an exhibition I wanted to see… only this time around they had moved to another of their sites. I shrugged it off and decided to have a scone instead – any scone. I mention this because the couple before me wanted two particular scones from the basket. Afterwards, I went to see a gallery within the museum which I missed in 2023, which turned out to have bronze sculptures by French artist Auguste Rodin, considered the initiator of modern sculpture.

Snapshots at the V&A museum

After that, I hopped back onto the Underground and headed off towards the Royal Academy of Arts, located in Burlington House. I was… surprised, to say the least, about the current display in the courtyard, but I was there to see oldest surviving red telephone box – Sir Giles Gilbert-Scott’s original prototype “K2” kiosk, made in wood in 1924.

Burlington house

I then snooped around three of the high-class shopping centres along the Oxford Street area, all of them out of my price range, of course – Burlington Arcade, Piccadilly Arcade and Quadrant Arcade. I walked past Piccadilly Circus and Leicester Square, and headed off to Forbidden Planet to check out if they by any chance had a copy of a comic I’ve been looking for (Alligator Loki, if you ever find it, give me a shout?). I did not find the comic but I did see some stuff by Stjepan Šejić in the wild.

High-end London shopping arcades

Finally, I headed off towards the hotel / venue area, I found the venue – just outside the station. I bought some snacks for dinner and breakfast, then headed off to get to my hotel. The credit card thankfully went through and I got my room. I spent the rest of the evening watching films and snacking on salt and vinegar crisps. Truth be told, the weather was not that nice, but most of the rain happened when I was inside the buildings in the Old Royal Navy College. It’s been a long time since I was in London and there was not a heat wave, so I am not going to complain.

28th May 2024: Architecture and a niche restaurant (Madrid, Spain)

I was talking to an acquaintance whose child likes superheroes – so does the acquaintance, actually – about Comic Planet. After exchanging experiences, they mentioned that their spouse also enjoyed another thematic restaurant, and I decided that it could be a fun thing to do – and since they don’t take reservations for one, I roped my sibling into tagging along. And of course, since we were braving the horribly-working trains, I felt we should fill the day out. We could not leave early in the morning as I would have liked because I had this stupid bureaucracy appointment I had to get out of the way first.

We arrived in Madrid around 12:30, and our first stop was the Casa de Correos, an iconic building in the middle of the square Puerta del Sol. I did not even know you could just visit that building, nor that they ran exhibitions. It was a cool opportunity to check it out. Furthermore, the exhibition was actually something that I was quite keen on – the architect Antonio Palacios, commemorating the 150th anniversary of his birth. The exhibition, called “the Metro architect” Antonio Palacios, el arquitecto de Metro, is part of the network of museums managed by the underground company Metro. It consists mostly of photographs, a few of them by photographer Luis Lladó, an original model of Palacio’s project to renovate Puerta del Sol, and a modern model of a now-lost station, including lifts. It was a bit underwhelming, but still worth it – and free, so it was good either way.

Exhibition Antonio Palacios El Arquitecto de Metro

Afterwards, we headed out to the restaurant for our 13:30 reservation. The place is called Los Secretos de Lola (Lola’s Secrets ). It used to be just another bistro-grill in a street full of them, but some time after the pandemic, it reinvented itself. The restaurant has slowly turned into a Mecca of childhood mementos – Disney princesses, teddy bears, Harry Potter, Funko Pops… and crazy fun references like a Möet&Chandon spray to clean the tables. A lot of the food comes in a special piece of dishware – most of it Disney, but I can’t tell whether it’s actually licenced or a bunch of knock-offs. It was hilarious anyway. Though I am not much of a Disney person (my sibling is), my favourite film of theirs would be Mulan, and I just about lost it laughing when I checked the menu beforehand – I saw that they served gyoza in a Mushu-like dish, and decided we needed to order that. I was open to negotiation about anything else, really, but not the gyoza. The pasta in the Lady and the Tramp dish was also hysterical, but I could do without.

We reached the restaurant on point, and the owner directed us inside. We got a really cute Stitch table, but my sibling was not comfortable on high chairs, so we were accommodated at a Harry Potter one. We shared the non-negotiable teriyaki prawn-and-vegetable gyoza with wakame and bean sprouts, served on a Mushu-plate: Gyozas de gambas y vegetables al teriyaki, a plate of cheese Tabla de quesos variados (Blue cheese, Havarti, Mimolette, Emmental, Basilio, butter and breadsticks, on a Ratatouille’s Remy plate, which I had also found adorable) and a bluefin tuna tartar Tartar De Atún Rojo (on a little boat – I asked for no mango, and it was honoured; this was probably the weakest dish though). Finally, I tricked my sibling into a dessert called “Snowhite magic apple” Manzana Encantada Blanca Nieves: red chocolate capsule with white Kinder and a heart of caramel sauce, which came in an adorable “present box”.

Decoration: Los Secretos de Lola

Food Los Secretos de Lola

The food was good, and I really like themed restaurants, I guess, even if they are not “my” theme. We did not stay for the two hours, I think we were on our way after an hour and a half – and when we asked for the check, it came in a Frozen music box. Then, we left towards Palacio de Cibeles, the old “communication palace” of Madrid, designed by Antonio Palacios and Joaquín Otamendi, and erected between 1907 and 1919. It is considered one of the first and most important Modernist buildings in Spain, constructed in biocalcarenite, with three stained-glass skylights, catwalks on the third floor, and a magnificent lookout on the rooftop. Part of the building is being used by the town hall, the other by the public entity CentroCentro, which runs cultural activities in the open spaces – mostly conferences and exhibitions.

Palacio de Cibeles

We arrived a bit before 16:00. Since we had a ticket for one of the exhibitions at 17:30, we checked whether we could find a ticket for the rooftop. We found available slots at 16:30, which was great. Before the viewpoint access, we had time to wander around. Most of the free exhibitions were of modern art, and not that interesting, and I was more focused on the building itself. There is one dedicated to the World Heritage site Paisaje de la Luz, explaining why the area deserves its UNESCO place.

We found the staircase to one of the towers and we used it to move it through the different floors. It is a spiral staircase around the lift, with Palacios’ typical green tiles similar to the ones he used at Maudes hospital and Chamberí station. The catwalks were paved with glass tiles, and it was quite impressive above all. I loved the building, but after all, Palacios is one of my favourite architects, so it was to be expected.

Inside Palacio de Cibeles

Then, we went up to the rooftop, where we could have a view of all of Madrid around us, most interestingly one of the main arteries of the city – Gran Vía. The weather was great, maybe a bit too bright. The turns were 30 minutes, but we were done in about half the time, after taking two walks around the middle tower.

Lookout on the rooftop of Palacio Cibeles

We went down and sat for a little before we headed down to the basement to see “Notre-Dame of Paris: The Augmented Exhibition” Notre-Dame de Paris: l’Exposition Augmentée. It was only 3€, so I was not expecting much, but it actually blew my mind.

The experience was created by the company Histovery, which specialises in “virtual exhibitions” through an interactive tablet called “HistoPad”. The Public Entity in Charge of the Conservation and Restoration of Notre-Dame de Paris cooperates with the event, and the beauty company l’Oreal is a sponsor. The exhibition (which is simultaneously running in several parts of the world) follows the history of the Parisian cathedral Notre-Dame de Paris – it starts with the 2019 fire, which is a bit heart-wrenching, and then it covers a few key moments in the history of the cathedral, using a mixture of written information, videographs and a “treasure hunt” where you have to find pieces of a puzzle hidden within the virtual information. This is done using the tablet to scan 21 “time portals” that take you to a particular point in history.

Around 1160. The Dream of a Builder. At that time, Bishop Maurice de Sully came up with the idea to build a new, better, cathedral in Paris. The previous one was a smaller, Romanesque building, but the goal was a larger, architecturally impressive building. In this room (the second, actually, but the first chronologically), you find out about the “treasure hunt” – you need to find a number of hidden “light spots” to build a “stained glass window”.

Around 1180. The Gothic choir. This makes a small overview of the kinds of workers that helped in the construction, the kinds of stones, building materials – quarries, forests. I was extremely disappointed at this point when I came across a dog in the virtual quarry, but the program did not let you pet it.

1241. The Holy Relics: Louis IX, the future Saint Louis, bought the Crown of Thrones in Jerusalem and brought it to Paris. There was a great procession into Notre-Dame, where the relics were to be kept. Here there’s a spectacular recreation of the gates with the original polychrome sculptures and decoration.

1645. The Royal Promise: Widowed Queen of France explained to her son, future Louis XIV, that he was to renovate the choir of the cathedral and build a new altar, dedicated to the virgin Mary. This was the original splendour of Notre-Dame, before the French revolution broke out – the church was one of the targets of the revolutionaries, and a lot of the art was damaged and / or destroyed.

1804. The Imperial Coronation. After the French Revolution, Napoleon crowned himself “Emperor”, but a very “equal and revolutionary” Emperor. He held a ceremony for himself in Notre-Dame, with the presence of the Pope and everyone who was anyone in the totally equal new society.

1857. The Spire. Enter Viollet-Le-Duc, a major architect and restorer in France’s 19th century, whose theories influenced countless others. He revalorised gothic style in the country, managing to turn it into a “national style”. The man had the goal to restore and create buildings in “the gothic style that would have been if the Medieval workers had had the technology he had access to”. Historians have not been kind to him, accusing him of “inventing” stuff instead of “restoring” but kudos to him, he managed to make a lot of buildings survive to our time. In Notre-Dame, he is responsible for putting back a lot of the sculptures that were destroyed during the French Revolution. He also built the spire that famously collapsed in the 2019 fire.

2019-2021 (first and last rooms). A description of the restoration works that have been happening in and outside the cathedral since the fire, with special attention to the Paris firefighters who worked the incident. There is a very interesting part about safely removing debris and the original scaffolding, and the fact that there was a lot of lead in the cathedral that the workers had to be safe around. They also homage the “vertical workers” who had to remove collapsed pieces from the ground… hanging from ropes.

Notre-Dame the Augmented Exhibition

We completed the stained-glass window and signed up to get a diploma. The fun part is that most of the exhibition was not really… even physical. There were a few posters, a reproduction of one of the chimaeras, some small models… Nevertheless, it was extremely interesting – possibly the best “virtual exhibition” I’ve seen to date. The length of the experience is said to be 60-90 minutes… we stayed from 17:30 to 19:45, much longer than I had anticipated! Thus, we had to forfeit the last plan of the day to go back to the train system – which of course was experimenting delays. It took forever to get home. Because what else is new?

Time-traveller diploma after completing the treasure hunt in Notre-Dame the Augmented Exhibition

14th May 2024: Three Museums and Tea, Madrid (Spain)

On a whim, I put together a plan for Tuesday, as it is currently my free day. I was too lazy to drive, so I decided to catch a train to Madrid. There was a temporary exhibition I wanted to check out, and it was close to several museums and eateries.

My first idea – breakfast at a French crêperie – went bust, because the place was still closed when I arrived in town – I swear, this is like the fourth time I try to have something there, and it just won’t work. Instead, I ended up at a Starbucks for breakfast, before heading out to my first destination – the exhibition The Art of Manga, held in the Architecture Bar Association building Colegio Oficial de Arquitectos de Madrid, COAM. The Art of Manga is a small exhibit that runs through the history of manga – Japanese comics – with a few snippets of what it was and what it has become, especially in Spain.

The entrance was a sort of tunnel with manga sheets hanging from the ceiling. It ended at a traditional scroll with animals acting like people – Chōjū-jinbutsu-giga 鳥獣人物戯画, which translates to “Animal-person Caricatures”. Some people consider that this is the origin of manga (note the “ga” at the end), though if there is one thing that the exhibition makes clear, it’s that nobody knows when manga actually started. Thus, it just runs through all the possible theories and important names. From the Edo Period, there were a few wood prints (ukiyo-e) – which are claimed to be original – among them two by Katsushika Hokusai [葛飾 北斎], The Great Wave off Kanagawa [神奈川沖浪裏, Kanagawa oki nami-ura] and Fine Wind, Clear Morning [凱風快晴, Gaifū kaisei]. Hokusai is another of the supposed starts (“the father”) of manga. There were also a few toba-e [鳥羽絵], similar to the first scrolls – for the first time in the evolution of drawings, there was text alongside the art. Then came the books, where texts dominated – though there were still drawings – and they became extremely popular during the period.

With the end of the isolation of Japan, Western influences – mainly comics – influenced local artists, and “speech bubbles” appeared. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Kitazawa Rakuten [北澤 楽天]’s works were published in newspapers. He is (also) considered the father of modern manga, and several of his works are displayed. There are also early 20th-century scrolls, painted in a style similar to toba-e depicting the Tokaido Road, which separated Edo (old Tokyo) and Kyoto, and its checkpoints. There were also kamishibai [紙芝居] cards – kamishibai is a traditional form of theatre involving telling a story using a narrator and different “postcards” with images drawn on it.

In the middle, the exhibit had a rock garden, and a torii gate with a lot of lanterns gave way to the second part – modern manga. Here there were pieces and mementos from famous artists and works – Osamu Tezuka [手塚 治虫], known as “The god of manga”, and one of the driving forces of anime. According to the exhibition, they were showing all of his works. There was a bit about Shigeru Mizuki [水木 しげる], and big international hits like Sailor Moon, Naruto, Dragon Ball and One Piece. After a screen showing a video about a cosplayer – which I did not care much about – there was a section on manga magazines, some of the early manga published in Spain, and a stand where you could get some stamps.

Snaps from The Art of Manga Madrid

Finally, there was a bit on merchandising and figurines. The shop did not even have a catalogue, which I would have bought. All in all, it was all right, smaller than I had expected.

Then, I went to the nearby museum of the Romantic period, where I got a national museums card – I’ve been wanting one for a while, but unfortunately you still have to queue to use it. I had hoped you could just walk into museums with it, but I guess crowd control is a thing since Covid. Anyway. The Romanticism museum, Museo del Romanticismo is a small palatial residence which tries to recreate the ambience and atmosphere of the dwellings of the bourgeois families at the time. It had a lot of nice furniture, similar to the one in Riofrío, but I found it lacked on the landscape paintings I like. The museum is currently exhibiting an early painting by painter Francisco de Goya, a Pietà.

Museo del Romanticismo Madrid

Afterwards, I headed out to line for the Sorolla Museum Museo Sorolla. I had to queue for nearly 40 minutes, but I was finally admitted in. Joaquín Sorolla (1863 – 1923) was a generally-impresionist painter (impressionist, post-impressionist and luminist) from Valencia. The museum was built in the artist’s own house, completed with some of his iconic artworks, including Paseo a orillas del mar, Walk on the Beach, and El baño del caballo, The Horse’s Bath. Sorolla excelled in portraits and landscapes, especially the sea side, and social criticism. He was a master depicting light, water, and the combination of both. He became one of the most important Spanish artists of his time – and probably the most famous. He participated in the Paris Universal Exposition of 1900, and was invited to exhibit his art in New York City.

Furthermore, there was a current exhibition called Sorolla in 100 objetos – Sorolla in one hundred objects – which had just opened to the public. It included personal items the artist collected, – some a bit bizarre–, photographies, his passport, the last painting he worked on, the medal he received from the US president, a photograph of his studio in Italy…

Snaps from Museo Sorolla

I then went off towards the archaeological museum Museo Arqueológico Nacional. I used to love this museum – when they remodelled it and they made it all modern and aseptic, it lost most of its allure. Of course, I still enjoy it, as the important items are the exhibits, and the museum has a lot of important items from the Celtiberian cultures – Celts and Iberians inhabited Spain before the Roman conquest, which started in the 2nd century BCE. Iberians were prevalent in the east and south of Spain before their arrival. The north and west were populated by the Celts, and there was a vague area in-between whose people have been called Celtiberian. the Talaiotic culture flourished in the Balearic Islands, and it has recently been declared World Heritage. These cultures were eventually assimilate by Romans, but Celts lived on elsewhere. Iberian and Talaiotic cultures, however, diffused with time. Today, there is little known about it, and most is just interpretation from archaeologists, even less about the more ancient tribes that lived in the areas during the Bronze Age.

Among the objects from pre-Roman Spain, there are mysterious steles from the late Prehistory. However, it is the Iberian funerary art which stands out the most – such as the bust called the Lady of Elche, La Dama de Elche, found in the town of the same name, and the full sculpture named the Lady of Baza La Dama de Baza. Both are fantastic, to the point that it was thought they were Hellenic for some time. Other items include bulls – both metal cattle heads with wide eyes, and vaguely-shaped stone sculptures, verracos. I remember going to the museum when I was little, and the importance of these bulls, called “Bulls from Guisando” Toros de Guisando was drilled into my head, to the point that I thought that the ones exhibited there were the only ones – it also made me sad that they were in the museum and not in the field where they had been found. I was petrified when I learnt, years later, that there are a bunch more…

The museum also hosts a nice collection of Moorish art, and what apparently is a special Egyptian exhibit, as Spain worked with Egypt during the 20th century, and got a lot of objects from that excavation from the Egyptians “in the split of the new discoveries”. I am not sure whether that’s accurate, or the story has a lot of make-up on. I had to leave around 16:15, but as this museum is also covered by the national museums card, I can come back any time within the year for free. I skipped most of the Medieval period.

Museo Arqueologico Nacional Madrid

I had a reservation for afternoon tea a few minutes away from the museum, at 16:30 – I might be doing a bit of a rally around all the places in Madrid which have it. This time around, I went to El Jardín de Orfila – and good thing I had decided to only have breakfast and skip lunch and go straight from breakfast to tea. I was seated in a lovely outward area and I chose a delicious green tea with cherry. The food was plenty – finger sandwiches: pastrami, salmon and cucumber and cheese cream; macarons, carrot cake, meringue, and scones, along with clotted cream and berries jam. It has probably been the best afternoon tea I’ve had in Madrid up to date. The scones were a bit under-baked though.

Afternoon tea at El Jardín de Orfila

I was alone in the outer area for most of the experience, the waiter checked on me once after bringing my tea. It was actually so calm and quiet that I had a visitor – a little house sparrow (Passer domesticus) was very interested on the remains of my scone, so I shared with her. She was happy after two crumbs, and left – or maybe it was because another couple walked into the area.

Sparrow hopping towards a scone crumb

I left a bit before the two-hour timeslot was up so I could catch a timely train home – and because the couple came in, talking loudly, and kind of broke the spell.

7th May 2024: “Dragon Hunters” in Alcalá de Henares (Spain)

The Archaeology and Palaeontology museum in Alcalá de Henares is running a temporary exhibition on the history of digging dinosaur bones, called “Dragon Hunters”. I was drawn to it because well… dinosaurs. Driving in the city centre is a nightmare, so I left the car in an easy-to-park area a bit away, and walked downtown.

I had been trying to see the cathedral of the Magistral Cathedral of Saint Justus and Saint Pastor Santa e Insigne Catedral-Magistral de los Santos Justo y Pastor, but it was always either locked, booked for events, or “closed to visitors”. This time around, I was able to finally see it – and it was honestly a bit underwhelming. Though I generally enjoy Gothic buildings, I guess I was so hyped after trying so many times, that reality did not live up to expectations. Furthermore, I dislike when places do not advertise that part of the visit is closed / unavailable, so I guess I’m still pretty out of luck with this one cathedral. I missed the chance to climb up the tower and see the views of the town due to construction, but oh well.

Legend has it that catholic Saints Justus and Pastor were martyrized in the year 304, near the Roman city of Complutum. In the year 414, a chapel was built to keep their remains in the place where the martyrdom happened. The current building was erected by architects Antón Egas and Enrique Egas in late Gothic and Renaissance styles around 1446. The tower, by Rodrigo Gil de Hontañón and Rodrigo Argüello, is Herrerian. The interior has three naves with pointed arches, and to one side stands the cloister, with access to the museum, and – when it is open – the tower. It was a bit of a bummer not to even be able to step into the open part of the cloister. Underneath the altar there is a crypt with a gold-and-silver urn with the remains of the Saints, and the stone where they were killed.

Afterwards, I continued on towards my real destination, the local Archaeology and Palaeontology museum Museo Arqueológico y Paleontológico de la Comunidad de Madrid, MARPA. They are currently running the exhibition Cazadores de Dragones (Dragon Hunters). The exhibit summarises the historical hits of palaeontology, starting with prehistoric and classical references and theories about them, such as a the phoenix having been inspired by Protoceratops skeletons, or the bones of giants being actually dinosaur fossils. This area has a few replicas and small statuettes – running from the originally-made ones to the newest reconstructions.

Exhibit entrance, protoceratops, corridor

The exhibit name-drops a few of the big figures in dinosaur-digging history such as William Buckland, the man who described Megalosaurus as an antediluvian creature; Gideon Mantell, who tried to reconstruct an Iguanodon from a tooth (now in the Natural History Museum in London); Georges Cuvier, who proposed the idea of extinction, and named animals such as Megatherium, Pterodactyl or Mosasaurus; and Richard Owen, who “invented” the word “dinosaur”, meaning “terrible lizard” – though today we know that a lot of dinosaurs had more in common with birds than with reptiles, down to protofeathers and even feathers.

Archaeopteryx, titanosaur

The following section follows the “Bone Wars” – Charles Marsh and Edward Cope were two palaeontologists who raced through the Morrison Formation (Montana, USA) to discover up to 30 species of dinosaurs – they were not always honest in their competition, and it did not help that Cope messed up a reconstruction of an Elasmosaurus, placing the skull at the end of the tail. The Morrison formation was (is) in the middle of nowhere, and digging during the 19th century had its risks. This concept ties with the idea of “the adventurer” à la Indiana Jones, mentioning Roy Chapman Andrews and Barnum Brown, the man who excavated the first Tyrannosaurus. And then you turn a corner and are greeted by a replica of a T-Rex. Of course, I stayed a while here – trying to take pictures without the security guard in them.

Tyrannosaurus rex replica

After World War II, palaeontology hits moved from the USA to Mongolia and the Gobi desert, with new species being discovered every so often. Later, in the last years of the 20th century, the idea of “the avian dinosaur” arrived, and there is a replica of a Deinonychus, with screens showing recreations of the creature looking “like a lizard” and looking “like a bird”, feathered and all.

Titanosaur, therizinosaurus, eggs, deinonychus

Finally, there are the local dinosaurs: a tail and part of a foot from Qunkasaura pintiquiniestra, a nest from the Poyos Site (Guadalajara), and the star of the show – the original fossil holotype of Concavenator (Concavenator corcovatus), a theropod found in Cuenca. The fun part? The museum which holds the holotype, Museo de Paleontología de Castilla-La Mancha, bans pictures – so I took my sweet time with this. There is also a life-size reproduction, with colours tuned down to more realistic than the originally proposed blue and red.

Concavenator fossil and reproduction

Afterwards, I wandered around MARPA, mostly to go to the palaeontology room, as I have explored the museum extensively before. The palaeontology ward is relatively new, and it has quite a few nice reproductions and… even if I have explored that one too. I also dropped by the shop to get the exhibition book. Finally, I went back to run through the Dinosaur exhibit again, just because I could, before I headed home. I had thought I’d look for a nice restaurant for lunch, but nothing drew my attention.

27th & 28th April 2024: Paris & the Fan Festival (France)

27th April 2024: From the Fan Fest to Les Invalides

My grandmother used to say that nothing good happens before sunrise, and to be honest, when the alarm clock rang at 4:40 on Saturday, I was very tempted to believe so. However, there were planes to catch, and red-eye flights are called so for a reason. My sibling and I had tickets for Paris on a 7:25 flight, which required us to be at the airport with enough time to board ± 30 minutes in case we had to get to the Satellite Terminal. Since I started planning with time – back in January – I had booked a parking spot in the actual terminal parking lot, for just a couple quid more than the long-stay one, and I activated a service the airport has so your card is billed automatically when your licence plate is detected, for convenience.

We reached the terminal with plenty of time (± 30 minutes) but recent problems with French air controllers going on strike, I was anything but calm. However, we took off on time and I just huddled off to nap. Arrival in Orly was early, and we did not taxi much, nor need buses. We just stepped off at the gate, and headed towards the Orlyval. We bought a Paris Visit card each, in order to be able to ride the public transport system as much as we needed for the weekend, and hopped on the shuttle. After a couple of transfers and a short walk, we arrived at the exhibition centre Paris Expo Porte de Versailles, where Paris Fan Festival took place.

Paris Fan Festival is a yearly convention that focuses on everything geek / nerd / niche, whatever you want to call it: video games (and retro video games), Star Wars, TV series, Ghostbusters, manga, comics, K-pop, there’s something just for everyone. I think it’s a bit of what Japan Weekend aims to be, but openly. It felt a little like that Funko slogan “Everyone is a fan of something”.

My reason to be there was European comic, actually. Authors (and married couple) Stjepan Šejić and Linda Lukšić Šejić, whom I’ve been following for a few years now, were in attendance. Stjepan Šejić has worked for DC in works such as Aquaman, Harley Quinn, and Suicide Squad, but he has gone independent, focusing on his own content creation. So has Linda Šejić, who started off at Image Comics and currently works on her own web comics. I’m currently buying his works Sunstone, Fine Print and my favourite Death Vigil, and her Blood Stain and Punderworld, the latter based on the Greek myth of Hades and Persephone. I also have the Aquaman hardcover that compiles all of Stjepan’s issues, and the Batman-character self-conclusive Harleen.

Of course, I wore an appropriate “Velocirapture” T-shirt to the event. The goal was to get an issue of each collection signed, and maybe a commission and some merch. In the end, we could only get a commission from Linda – we almost got one from Stjepan too, but things did not work too well on that front. I hope to get one next time they’re reachable – I actually wanted to go and meet him a while back, but I was in the middle of a weekend in Cuenca back in 2017.

Paris Fan Festival: Stjepan Šejić and Linda Lukšić Šejić

My sibling and I wandered through Paris Fan Festival for a few hours. We had something to eat at a Paul’s bakery, which I had discovered in Toulouse, and whose prices were not stupidly inflated by being inside the convention. Unfortunately though, I had followed the instructions of the venue and I was not carrying any water, and just a small backpack. I could’ve completely ignored the rules though, just like… most everybody else did. I did learn a valiable lesson though – when travelling to conventions for people, you buy tickets for both days. Just in case.

One of the most interesting vendors at Paris Fan Festival was the Lyon Cinema and Miniature Museum Musée Cinéma et Miniature, which had brought many sci-fi props from their permanent exhibition. They had the tip of a pyramid, a hieroglyph stone and a mask from the original Stargate film, ), a compsognathus animatronic, and the velociraptor claws from the Jurassic Park saga (), Loki’s mask from The Mask, a xenomorph head from Alien, suits from one of the older Batman films and Armageddon, prosthetics from X-Men

Samples of the Lyon Cinema and Miniature Museum at the Paris Fan Festival

As every other niche convention, were tons shops with merchandise, books and comics, not all of them legal. They held an exhibit of figures and statuettes. There were also a number of conferences – pity that the one about Jurassic Park was in French, too. Also, I discovered that France has a lot of “replica” culture – there was an actual “Imperial Army” (Star Wars), someone who had customised a car into the Ectomobile from Ghostbusters (2016), even people impersonating Tolkien’s orcs… It goes a little beyond cosplay… Supposedly, there was someone walking around with a dragon, but we did not run into them.

Paris Fan Festival snippets

Eventually, we left the convention to find our way to the hotel and drop the luggage, since comics are heavy, and Paris is on high alert and most places won’t let you through with backpacks. We wasted some time finding the hotel as it was raining cats and dogs – and they were remodelling, so the outer signal was not there. After check-in, we headed out again, and when we reached our next destination, it had literally stopped selling tickets – it was one hour and four minutes to closing time, and the recommended time is one hour and five minutes, so sadly, we could not get in.

It was a bit disappointing, but we moved on towards Arènes de Lutèce. Lutetia (Lutèce) was the Latin name for Paris when it was part of the Roman Empire, and the amphitheatre is one of the most important remains from that period. Built during the first century CE, it would have seated 15,000 spectators. It was restored and open to the public at the end of the 19th century. Today, it is the centre of a park.

Lutetia Amphitheatre

After that, we took the underground towards the high-end department store Galeries Lafayette Paris Haussmann. In 1894, two Parisian businessmen opened a shop that would eventually become the biggest department store chain in Europe. Through the following decades, the businessmen bought buildings around the shop in order to grow their emporium. In 1907, architect Georges Chedanne carried out the first main renovation in the Art Déco style, and Ferdinand Chanut completed it with a Neo-Byzantine dome, built in 1912. Today, the galleries focus heavily on luxury products, and not that we could afford any, but I wanted to see the dome.

When we arrived, we snooped around – it was packed, full with high-end tourists, mostly Asians. The brands selling their products were the most expensive ones – from Chanel to Cartier. As we were admiring the dome, we saw there was a glass walk hanging from the balcony on the htird floor. Of course, we had to investigate. It was around 17:30. We found the end of the queue, and saw that there was a QR to reserve a spot. I was able to book us in for 19:20 – surprising, considering it was the same day, and access is free – maybe it was a language barrier or something? I’m not going to complain.

There was a nearby gallery I also wanted to see, Passage du Havre, a typical Parisian shopping passage. It was less impressive than the Lafayette, but also surprisingly cosy – as my sibling put it “the other guys have Chanel, they’ve got Sephora”. It had some nice decoration and quite a different crowd. Furthermore, we had been up since 4:00, and ate quite early, so when we found a Pret a Manger, we decided to buy dinner there.

Passage Du Havre escalators

We went back to Galeries Lafayette for our “Glasswalk” experience, and it was really, really cool. The staff were also impressively friendly and we enjoyed ourselves immensely for the whole… five minutes of it. I really loved the dome.

Upper floor of the Galerie Lafayette

We finally headed off towards Napoleon’s tomb, the Dôme des Invalides in the complex Hôtel des Invalides. Hôtel des Invalids was originally commissioned by Louis XIV in 1670 as a hospital for disabled soldiers. The church-and-chapel complex was designed by Jules Hardouin-Mansart in several iterations from 1676 on. The complex is considered one of the most iconic examples of the French absolute monarchy Baroque style. When Napoleon’s remains were repatriated in 1840, a state funeral was held, and a mausoleum projected in the crypt under the Dome. Construction of the grave extended until 1861, when the former Emperor was finally entombed there.

We were going to see the light mapping event Aura Invalides, a spin off of sorts from the display in the Notre-Dame Basilica in Montreal (Canada). The show highlights the history, architecture and meaning of the monument through light and orchestral music. The event lasts about 45 minutes, and it comprises three parts: First Movement: Creation, which focuses on the architecture of the monument; Second Movement: Collective Memory, through which you get to wander, seeing different effects in the chapels; and finally Third Movement: Universal Elevation, more spiritual and ethereal.

Projections inside the Invalides church

Les Invalides church by night

Afterwards, we headed towards the hotel to have a shower and sleep.

28th April 2024: No plans, really

After a nice breakfast at our hotel, we tried our luck at the Paris Fan Festival again. We got our drawings from Linda Šejić, but Stjepan Šejić had brought all the wrong markers and was not doing any more commissions. I offered my own pen, just to test the waters, and it was unfortunate that he did not take the bait.

Oh, well. You can’t win all the time. Instead of wallowing in our bad luck, we decided to get going and do something cool. For me that meant the park known as Jardin des Plantes, to visit two sites of the French Natural History Museum Muséum national d’Histoire naturelle. The day had started weirdly, with my underground ticket not working, but my sibling’s doing so. A lady who did not seem to enjoy being stuck at work Sunday morning waved us through without exchanging it. As the ticket was still not working when we left Paris Expo, another employee exchanged it.

The first site we visited was the Great Gallery of Evolution, Grande Galerie de l’Évolution, the biggest site of the French Natural History Museum. It has four visitable levels – the upper balcony (third floor), focused on “Evolution of life”, the second floor “Impact of man in life”, and the first and ground floors that deal “Diversity of life” (terrestrial on the first, marine on the ground floor). The way it is arranged makes it, in my view, a companion to the Gallery of Compared Anatomy – (which I still like best, to be honest).

The collection finds its core in the disappeared Zoology Gallery, whose building dates back from 1877. Designed by architect Jules André, the interior was a cast-iron structure with a central nave and a skylight. Although the original project was never completed, the Galerie de Zoologie was inaugurated in 1889. It closed down in 1966 for restoration, although works were actually only carried out between 1991 and 1994. During this time, taxidermist also took care of about a thousand animals. Today, the gallery holds a cavalcade of savannah animals on the ground floor, and more conservative vitrines and glass cases on the upper floors. The museum still keeps the 19th century allure and entertaining aura – we did not go into any of the VR experiences, as they were sold out (and, you know, in French), so we did not see the more modern area of the museum.

Great Gallery of Evolution

We started off on the third floor and made our way down to the ground level. There were a ton of taxidermy animals, collections of insects and shells, even a wool one, and some bizarre specimens such as a tiger attacking an elephant with a chair on top… To be honest, though, I think it is more of a regular zoology gallery, just arranged in a surprising way. I found the evolution angle better developed at Brussel’s Natural History Museum. The classical design is extremely cool, though, and it would have given a great feeling had it not for all the free-range kids wildly running around…

Afterwards, we headed off to the geology and mineralogy gallery, Galerie de Géologie et de Minéralogie, which had a really nice collection of gemstones, crystals and jewellery. And of course, fluorescent rocks which kept my attention for a very long while.

Mineral and geology gallery

It was almost lunchtime and we decided to head out towards a busier area to grab a bite. My Paris Visit ticket was not working again, and I exchanged it yet once more. I went through, but my sibling did not, so they had to wait in queue again to exchange that too. Apparently, I was keeping the tickets too close to my phone – even if it was the one without internet? I deemed my sibling responsible for the tickets from then on.

We stepped out at Palais Royal–Musée du Louvre, hoping there were places to eat, and we were right – there were a bunch of them along the street. The one that grabbed our attention was Café Brasserie Ragueneau, a small eatery close to the Louvre. There, I splurged on a Tartare de boeuf poêlé au foie gras (Pan-fried beef tartare with foie gras) just to be a snob. It was delicious. The foie gras version came slightly cooked, though the raw version would have been fantastic. Our waiters were extremely friendly too, and tolerated my poor French with a smile.

Pan-fried beef tartare with foie gras

After lunch, we walked to the last place on my list for the trip – the church Église Saint-Germain l’Auxerrois de Paris, which mixes elements of Romanesque, Flamboyant Gothic, Rayonnant, and Renaissance styles, though the tower – my favourite – was only added in 1860 as part of Baron Haussmann’s plan to reconstruct the city. The base of the church dates from the 12th century, and during the 14th and 15th centuries it was decorated with a balustrade by Jean Gaussel, multiple sculptures, and gargoyles. The interior is lighter than usual gothic churches, and there is a monumental set of carved wooden seats for the royal family. There are multiple windows with stained glass, although not all of them are the original Medieval ones, since they were destroyed during the French Revolution and replaced in the 19th century.

Church of Saint-Germain l’Auxerrois

The Louvre was not selling same-day tickets, so our idea to spend a couple of hours there went bust. Then, we decided to walk towards Île de la Cité to check on the cathedral’s progress, as it is supposed to reopen this year, when reconstruction from the 2019 fire has been completed. I wanted to check something called Tunnel des Tuileries, but I misunderstood – I thought it crossed underneath the Seine to get to the Isle of France; apparently I mixed it with a pedestrian tunnel under the Thames – it turned out to be a place of modern art, and it did not feel too safe. Thus, we continued under the sun, and reached the flower market Marché aux Fleurs Reine Elizabeth II.

We found out that a sort of stage has been built for visitors to sit in front of Notre Dame, and we saw a lot of people taking pictures of the pictures on the wall, which was a bit weird. We sat for a while, but not long because there was a guy singing really badly at the square.

Notre Dame under reconstruction

We went on and saw the park Square René Viviani, where the oldest tree in Paris stands. Next to the park is the church Église Saint-Julien le Pauvre and close to Église Saint-Séverin. We could not enter any of them, so instead we decided to sit down to have a coffee – in my case a “detox smoothie” because the orange-and-carrot blend reminded me of one in Japan I really like.

We finally set off to collect our things, and this is when I usually say I got home without an incident. Not this time. The public-transport tickets worked fine to get to the airport, we bought dinner and settled to wait. There was nothing much too strange, we were late – forty, forty-five minutes? I’m not sure, but not an obscene amount of time – the crew announced connections over the PA system, I thought that was nice of them. When we landed… I had a moment that I did not know where we were, which is strange, because the terminal is pretty straight forward. It turns out that in order for the travellers who had connections to South America to make it, we had landed at the Satellite Terminal, not the main building! Which meant over thirty minutes of “commute” back to the parking lot… I had taken a leeway of around an hour and a half after landing to get out, but we barely made it!!

A nice weekend to break out the routine, a lot of comics signed, and a lovely piece of artwork were achieved. Unfortunately, I caught a stupid, stupid cold, my first since the whole Covid thing started, and my immune system freaked out. It seems it’s back to facemasks on planes for me.

17th March 2024: Council Houses & Royal Collections (Madrid, Spain)

Madrid’s town hall opened a new season of their “walking Madrid” Pasea Madrid to show off some of the usually closed-off monuments in the greater area of the city. I’ve signed up for a few before (also under the name of open for restoration); while I am not a fan of guided visits, the program grants access to otherwise closed off places. This time I was lucky enough to get a spot for the old town hall Casas Consistoriales.

The original council house was built around 1645, following the plans by Juan Gómez de Mora, in the Herrerian style – the exterior is sober and barely decorated, erected in bare brick, with towers in the corners. The interior used to host a square courtyard, around which the whole dependences were designed. Subsequent remodellings closed off that patio, gave the construction a balcony overlooking Main Street, and exchanged the wooden roof for black slate. Even later, the structure was connected to the nearby palace Casa de Cisneros, a Plateresque palace built round 1537, by a passageway on the second floor. The two buildings were the main site of the town hall until 2011. Nowadays, the complex hosts some offices and is used for special events.

After going through the metal detector / X ray machine, we gathered at the entrance. The visit took one hour, and we were shown some of the most important points in both buildings, permanently followed by an armed security guard. In the actual Casa Consistorial, we saw the monumental staircase, the “royal room” with a fantastic glass lamp and frescoed ceilings, the so-called “crystal courtyard”, whose ceilings is a stained glass window, and the room where the council meetings used to take place, now used for formal events.

Old council Houses, Madrid

We crossed over to the palace Casa de Cisneros, where we saw the library, several meeting rooms and the “Andalusian staircase” with ceramic tiles, until we finally reached the actual yard, built in brick, but with some original decorations similar to those found in the palaces of Guadalajara (Infantado and Condesa de la Vega del Pozo).

Old council houses, Madrid

The whole thing took about 50 minutes, including checking in, security and introductory explanation. It was extremely rushed, and I still find being followed by a guard a bit unnerving. However, I got to see the two buildings, which is what I wanted.

Afterwards, I went to a new museum recently opened by the Spanish Heritage service Patrimonio Nacional, called the “Royal Galleries” – Galería de las Colecciones Reales. The massive space was built into the ground of the terraces that separate the upper area of the Royal palace from its gardens (Jardines del Campo del Moro), and consists of three floors. The building is completely accessible by wheelchair, having ramps instead of stairs. The collection comprises part of the art pieces owned by the State that were originally purchased by the Royal Families before the 1975 Constitution and the 1982 Law. The uppermost floor contains the pieces collected by the early monarchs, especially the Catholic Monarchs and the Habsburg Dynasty. There are a lot of tapestries, armours and so on, as we are talking the Middle Ages. I also found some Last Wills and Testaments, and the first ever Spanish Grammar, by Antonio de Nebrija (1492). During construction of the building, the archaeological remains of the foundations of the first Royal Palace in Madrid were found, so those have been incorporated into the exhibit.

Royal Collection Galleries - Hausburg collection

The second underground floor, deeper below, holds the Bourbon collection, from Felipe V (king 1700 – 1746, he abdicated on his son, who died, and he had to go back to the throne) to Alfonso XIII (king 1886 – 1931, when went into exile upon the start of the Second Republic). This is more… French-style, of course, with paintings, decorative items, chariots, and actual objects of everyday use. Here are exhibited works by Goya and Velázquez, musical instruments, and the first photographs.

Royal Collection Galleries - Bourbon collection

The third floor is a temporary exhibition of royal chariots and cars, including a Rolls Royce, a couple of sleighs, and a sedan chair. It kind of looks that it’s going to be a forever temporary exhibitions though…

Royal Collection Galleries - chariots and cars

The Galleries were rather… underwhelming. After all, there are quite a few royal palaces and sites in Spain, all lavishly decorated, and most of the paintings are in the museum Museo del Prado, one of the largest painting galleries in the world. This felt a bit of a haphazard collection of “stuff we did not know where to host”. I really struggled to find any link or logic beyond “this king bought this”. And even if it was chaotic of sorts, it felt quite short of other places like the Victoria & Albert museum in London. I am not sure they will “fill it up” eventually, or if the main items will remain in their dedicated locations.

Oh, and in case you are wondering why I did not check out St. Patrick’s parade… It was the day before…

9th March 2024: Minerals, fossils & trains (Madrid, Spain)

I might not be the most people-person ever, but if there is something that makes conventions extra fun, it is seeing attendees unapologetically geek out about what they love – in the case of Expominerales, that would be… rocks. Of course, this is an over-simplification. Expominerales is held yearly in the mine and energy engineering school Escuela Técnica Superior de Ingenieros de Minas y Energía (ETSIME) in Madrid. The year 2024 marks the 43rd edition of the event, which is considered one of the most important fairs in Spain in the topic of Earth Sciences – minerals, fossils, gems, and meteorites are widely available to the public. Aside from the small historical museum Museo Histórico-Minero Don Felipe de Borbón y Grecia, there were dozens of exhibitors with all kinds of items for sale, ranging from a few euro to several thousands. These year there were a few lectures, too, and coincidentally, the two of them I was most interested in happened on Saturday, one after the other.

I arrived at the ETSIME around 11:00, and I walked around the stands a couple of times. I have to say that I wanted everything, but I set a budget and I was able to stay around it, after shopping and lunch. At noon, I settled to listen to the lectures – one about the rehabilitation of an ancient gypsum mine in a hamlet called Hornillos de Cerrato, in the area of León. The other one versed about the uses of an already-rehabilitated one in the south of Spain, home to a huge geode. Both of them were pretty interesting, though the conference room was freezing. Someone had forgotten to turn on the heater there, it seemed…

Expominerales 2024 at ETSIME

After the two conferences, I had a last round to buy a last thing, so in the end I bought an iron-meteorite pendant, a fossilised shark tooth pendant, a plesiosaur tooth, and a soil sample of the K–T boundary. A plesiosaur was a marine reptile with flippers, a short tail and a long neck. The K–T boundary (now named the Cretaceous–Palaeogene (K–Pg) boundary) is the theoretical layer of iridium-rich black sand that was formed by the meteorite that caused the extinction of non-avian dinosaurs – and basically most life at the time, in one of the great world-wide extinctions in the history of Earth.

Shopping from Expominerales

At 14:30, I had a reservation for lunch at a Japanese franchise called Ramen Shifu. While I had originally been looking forward to trying the ramen (and I got my hopes pumped up when I read that they were Hakata ramen style), the noodles were rather disappointing. Fortunately, the okonomiyaki – Japanese pizza of sorts, made with a base of cabbage and topped with sauce and bonito flakes, was all right. On top of everything, paying was stupidly difficult because they did not have change.

Shifu Ramen ponzano - okonomiyaki and ramen

When I came out of the restaurant though, it was raining like crazy. I pulled out my umbrella and hopped towards the closest underground station, as my next destination was inside the metro system – one of the Underground’s museum network Museos de Metro de Madrid the collection of classic trains Estación de Chamartín: Exposición trenes históricos, inside the Chamartín stop. The exhibition displays four historical trains, restored from among the first ones that ran under the city, and some memorabilia. It was a bit underwhelming – more like false advertisement. I hoped I would be able to snoop inside the trains, since that was the photograph that opened the webpage, but unfortunately they were cordoned off. There was however a map with the works by Antonio Palacios in Madrid, which will become handy eventually.

Classical Train Exhibition Madrid

Afterwards, I just headed off towards the train station and got back home.

24th February 2024: Feria de las Mercaderías de San Matías 2024 (Tendilla, Spain)

Going to the Medieval Fair in Tendilla around the festivities of Saint Matthew’s Feria de las Mercaderías de San Matías seems to have become a tradition. Though they close off the village to traffic, I know the area well enough to know where to ditch the car so I can get in and out easily. Since last year, I’ve been driving in early on Saturday, before the scheduled events start so I can help out with the shopping for the day – there’s the tradition of cooking breadcrumbs, migas at my relatives’, and it’s a big meal, so we usually need to get some last-minute stuff.

The weather forecast was miserable – and there was the risk of a huge storm like the previous day, so this year there were fewer stands and visitors. That, in turn, meant I ran into many more acquaintances than usual, as it was harder to blend in…

After getting everything ready, we left the house around 11:30 to walk around the already-set stands and look at the communal migas. There was not much of interest on display. We walked into the women’s association ladies, giving out confectionery items, and we tried those. A bit after noon, the opening parade set off, with musicians, dancers and giant puppets.

Opening parade

Then we found a place at the edge of Main Square Plaza de la Constitución, to watch the equestrian show by the group Caballeros del Alarde, called Privilegio de Juan II de Castilla. It was very similar to the one they did in 2023 – they make sure that the square is covered in sand and prepare two U-shaped courses and they do different activities on the horses, trying to emulate a joust. At the end, they brought out a small hawk – which they called “fat” – so it got used to people. During the show there was a few minutes’ worth of hail, nothing serious. It was chilly all through the day, though.

Stuntment doing horseriding exercises

Afterwards, we went home to make lunch and we happily ate our migas – breadcrumbs seasoned with paprika and fried with garlic and minced chorizo, with a sunny-side-up fried egg on top. Some people like eating them with grapes or orange bits, but I just like them “plain”, so I ate the fruit later.

Once fed, family needed to entertain some guests and I made myself scarce. I headed out on my own, and I went to see the animals at the exhibit at Plaza de Vicente Mariño. It was still early and bright, so I decided to climb up to the ruined monastery Monasterio de Santa Ana. As spring was nearly upon the village, the almond trees were in bloom despite the cold, and it was really pretty.

Animals at the farm exhibit - A rabbit, a horse, an ox, a goat, two geese, a pig and a herd of sheep

Saint Anne's Monastery with flowers in the foreground

I went back home and we decided to show up to the “guided visit” that the town hall organised. Right now, this is the only way to see the recreation of a traditional house that has been built in the ethnography museum Museo etnográfico. It made me feel old, because there were a lot of things that I was used to seeing – and using – when I was a kid. However, the guide was… not too good. She even said things like “oh, I’m not rural, I wouldn’t know what that is” about some items.

Afterwards, we tried to find a good spot to watch the parade-show by the cultural group Asociación Gentes de Guadalajara, which started after dusk. They played the funeral parade for the Count of Tendilla Cortejo fúnebre con el catafalco de D. Íñigo López de Mendoza, I Conde de Tendilla. Born in the Mendoza family, one of the most powerful clans during the Castilian Middle Ages, he was a politician and warrior. The Count participated in the power struggle before Isabel I was proclaimed Queen of Castile. He died in 1479, and was originally buried in the monastery Monasterio de Santa Ana. Later, his tomb was relocated to Guadalajara, and eventually destroyed during the Civil War. The whole thing was very solemn, and we ended up catching the parade at three or four points. We even could catch part of it from the balcony at home as they turned to “bury” the Count in the church.

Burial of the Count of Tendilla

We went back to the square Plaza de la Constitución to watch the last show of the day – by now dark night. It was supposed to involve the Knights Templar arriving, and then dancers and jugglers, but apparently the Templars got lost. A lady danced with fire, and there was a scuffle with fire swords, but no knights. That was a bit of a bummer.

Jesters at the Medieval fair

Afterwards, I went to find my car and drive back before all the Sunday drivers finished having their dinner and left. I hoped that would mean fewer idiots on the road. Unfortunately though, I still could not avoid the stereotypical idiot using full-beam headlights behind me. It seems there is always one of those when I drive at night.

17th February 2024: Hita, Medieval villa (Spain)

Today, Hita is barely more than a hamlet at the foot of a hill, lost in the middle of the Spanish central plateau, in the Guadalajara region. Its origins date back to pre-Roman times, and the settlement was first recorded in Roman roadmaps. The area later became part of the Caliphate until 1085, when it was conquered by king Alfonso VI and the town was incorporated to the Crown of Castile. The town flourished in the Middle Ages. In the 14th century, a then-famous poet, known as Juan Ruiz, the Archpriest of Hita (Arcipreste de Hita), wrote one of the most important literary works in Spanish-speaking history, the Libro del Buen Amor (Book of Good Love), a bit of a parody of the local society of the times in poem form.

Also in the 14th century, the lord Íñigo López de Mendoza took over the region. He rebuilt the castle from the ruined Moorish alcazaba and erected a wall around the settlement. However, the village eventually lost its importance, inhabitants, and vineyards, as the feudal system evolved. It was mostly destroyed during the Civil War in the 20th century. In 1961, historian Manuel Criado de Val wrote a play based on the Book of Good Love and it was played in the town square. People liked the idea, which eventually grew into the town’s Medieval Theatre Festival. It revitalised the village a little, and the first summer of June, the town fills up with plays, a marketplace, tournaments and jousts, and people dressing in period clothing. Today, Hita has fewer than 300 inhabitants, and it’s trying to build a reputation as a picturesque day trip “Medieval villa” – it has even built a visitors’ parking lot.

We arrived around 11:00, and left the car at the entrance of the village, in said parking lot. By 11:20 we had walked by all the whole historical centre – which, given how the town is promoted as a Medieval marvel, was a little underwhelming. We parked in front of the area named stockade or palisade, Palenque, where the medieval tournaments are carried out. Its construction is fairly recent, so it does not hold any historical importance outside the festival.

Stockade in Hita.

Next to the Palenque stands one of the remaining sections of the medieval walls Muralla Medieval that still remain around the village. There is also the sculpture of a semi-mythical figure – Álvar Fañez de Minaya. Minaya was Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, El Cid’s, right-hand man. El Cid’s deeds are known from the Spanish epic poem Cantar de Mío Cid, which presents him as someone akin a Round Table knight. Though he probably did exist – along with his lieutenant – he was probably more of a mercenary and a warlord than the legendary hero.

Sculpture of Minaya in front of the medieval wall

The access to the historical centre is done through the stone gate Puerta de Santa María, the only one of the wall entrances that has survived – although it has been heavily restored. It was originally an arch, in civilian gothic; today the upper part is completely reconstructed, with two turrets. In front of the gate stands the pillory Picota, which signals that in medieval times there was a justice department.

St. Mary's gate into the town of Hita.

The village is small, and mostly uphill. There is a main square, some ruins, and a church. Since the church was closed and we could not snoop around, we decided to visit the local museum and sign up for the guided visit that was offered, as they would open the visitable monuments up.

The museum, Casa Museo del Arcipreste, multitasks as archaeological display, ethnographic museum, festival promotion, and recreation of the Archpriest’s writing chamber, with some facsimiles of the pages. There are masks from the festivals, and the town’s botargas.

Hita - local museum

When the guided visit started, we first overlooked the landscape. We got a commentary of the location of the village and its historical importance, and the kind of soil and crops that used to and still are grown in the area. I had chosen the weekend because the weather was going to be nice, and it was – especially no wind, which would have made things awkward.

We then visited the ruins of Saint Peter’s church Ruinas de la Iglesia de San Pedro. Originally a Romanesque temple turned mudéjar, it was blown up during the Civil War. Today, only the altar stands, and it is used as stage for cultural acts. As a memento of its original mission, the town has kept the tombstone of the last governor of the castle before it was destroyed, still on the ground.

Hita - Ruins of St Peter's church

We moved onto the church Iglesia de San Juan Bautista. The building was erected in the mudéjar style throughout the 14th and 15th century. The tower is herrerian, erected in the 16th century. Inside, the most remarkable detail are the wooden ceilings, also dating from the 16th century. The floor is sprinkled with gravestones that used to be in the other church. There are two baptism fountains, and a small statue of the Virgin Mary with the Child, carved halfway between Romanesque and Gothic styles. Then she was embellished with baroque jewellery.

Hita - Church of St John the Baptist

Thankfully, we only looked at the ruins of the castle,and did not climb up to it – today, only a wall and the base of a tower stand, high up the hill that in the Medieval Age controlled the whole plain.

Ruins of the castle in Hita

Instead, we were invited to peer into a bodego, a traditional cave-house. The one we saw was restored, but it felt pretty authentic. There was a bedroom, a kitchen, and the end of the dwelling was more cave-like, working as stable and barn. The smell was damp, and it was good that they’ve put electric lights on it, because the tiny windows would have made it a little claustrophobic.

Cave house in Hita

We then descended towards the main square Plaza Mayor, which was the old marketplace and even older synagogue. A hollow on the wall has been used to recreate a cell where the Archpriest was imprisoned. Opposite the wall, there are popular architecture houses, with typical porticos.

Main square in Hita

The Archpriest's cell

To end the visit, we looked at the gate Puerta de Santa María, and then were invited to see a traditional wine cellar excavated into the medieval wall. Though wine production was abandoned long ago, the cellar Bodega de Doña Bellida still exists with its traditional structure and huge clay vessels. It was excavated into the mountain, just like the bodego.

Wine cellar and jars

There was not much more to see in the village, so we just headed off afterwards. I was a bit underwhelmed about the whole thing, I am not going to lie.

16th December 2023: A day out of ExpoGema (Madrid, Spain)

Since the mineral expo ExpoMinerales back in February was all cool and fun, I decided to attend its shinier (and unbeknownst to me, way more unaffordable) sibling, the gem expo ExpoGema, and make a day out of it. Thus, I headed out for Madrid on the 9:00 train with temperatures below zero – I was not made for winter. It was not much better when I arrived, but for once the train ride was uneventful, I actually made my connection, and it seems that after a chaotic year, the underground train tunnels are finally open. Everything going smoothly gave me some unexpected 45 minutes to wander around as the square Puerta del Sol slowly became fuller and fuller with people.

I had booked a guided visit through the company Madrid en Ruta, who has the exclusive concession to show the business centre Casa Comercial Palazuelo. Located in downtown Madrid, it was designed by architect Antonio Palacios. The promoter, Demetrio Palazuelo, bought the lot left behind by a fire, and commissioned the building with the goal of renting it out to shops and professionals – it was thus the first office building in Spain conceived as such, and not repurposed from a manor or an apartment building. Palacios drew inspiration from the Chicago School commercial architecture and used iron to stabilise the building, which allowed him for bright interiors using lots of glass. The office building was erected between 1919 and 1921, and the offices are still rented out today, with the only caveat that the beautiful interior translucent-glass doors have been painted white – to either protect privacy or hide the fact that today the house seems to be almost empty – at least according to the building’s own directory.

The exterior façade could be considered eclectic – the main frame tends to neoclassicism with huge glass windows framed in black iron. The interior tends towards Art Deco and modernism. The offices are distributed around a central indoor patio, with curved balconies that overlook it and lots of lights mainly due to the skylight. There are two classical lifts which are the original ones, in peartree wood. When we went up, I took the stairs, which have white treads, and the riser is made out dark green ceramics. I have seen these in other works by Antonio Palacios.. The interior, with the iron balustrades and its curvy design, was really cool, but I think it is really a pity they painted over the glass.

Interior of Casa Palazuelo

The visit started at 11:00. We spent the first fifteen minutes outside getting context, roughly half an hour inside, and the last twenty minutes on the roof of the building, waiting for the clock of the Puerta del Sol to strike 12:00, then we were ushered out. I really wish we could have wandered the house a little bit, even if we could not go into the offices. The ten euro we paid surely did not feel like we were paying customers, but more like we were sneaking around like unwanted guests – which we probably were anyway.

Puerta del Sol from the roof of Casa Palazuelo

I grabbed a quick snack then and headed off towards the engineering school Escuela Técnica Superior de Ingenieros de Minas y Energía (ETSIME) for the sixth edition of the gem fair ExpoGema. The fair itself was neat, but most everything was way above my budget range. I was there at the typical Spanish lunchtime, there were few people, and most were at the stands. Thus, I had the museum Museo Histórico-Minero Don Felipe de Borbón y Grecia almost completely to myself. I really like old-style museums, and this one has a huge amount of specimens, most of them are minerals, but there are also fossils and a collection of cave bear skulls and bones. I had decided not to book any guided visit or activity as none happened within the couple of hours of lunch downtime.

Geology Museum at Etsime

I bought an ammonite pendant, a small pyrite with almost perfect right angles, and another pendant made with a small meteorite from Campo del Cielo, along with a tiny extra piece. Campo del Cielo is an area in Argentina where four or five thousand years ago an iron meteorite fell. The meteorite shattered upon entering the atmosphere and, when it impacted the surface, the different created up to 26 craters. About 100 short tonnes of a fragmented iron meteorite have been recovered to date, and I now own around four grammes of it – yay me. I did not buy any precious stone though since the pretty shiny rocks were way out of my budget.

Expogema 2023

I left the ETSIME and I walked towards the square Plaza Pablo Ruiz Picasso, where there is a temporary art installation called El Regalo (The present) by Amigo&Amigo, a studio specialising in art installations. The artwork comprises a few arches that end in pads that can be stepped on – when they are, music sounds. The day was still bright, so the artwork was not shining, but a bunch of kids jumped on the pads to keep the music playing.

El Regalo artwork

Afterwards, I took a train and headed off towards central Madrid again. I had a reservation for an afternoon tea at NuBel, an “avant-garde gastronomy space” in the modern art museum Museo Reina Sofía. I had been drawn to the place due to the “freshly-baked scones” they advertised.

The experience was beyond disappointing. First, I had to wait to get seated, but then the person who checked me in forgot to notify that I was there – this is what I assume happened, I was literally told that “the kitchen had forgotten about me”. The set menu took 40 minutes to come out, and the scone was cold anyway, so not even freshly-made. I had got a decaf latte that was also cold when the food came.

The menu, 16€ as I don’t drink alcohol, consisted of: two mini-sandwiches – the two of them had been made from the same bread slice, so you can imagine the size, with some kind of mayonnaise filling which was not bad but rather unidentifiable; one shot-sized glass of (pre-made) gazpacho; one scone; a piece of red velvet cake; a piece of carrot cake; one chocolate brownie; a side of cheese cream, butter and jam; and in my case the already-stone cold decaf latte.

Nubel afternoon Tea

The scone was cold – so much for freshly-made, the only thing that had kept me waiting. Furthermore, the cheese cream, albeit nice, did not fit it like at all, so I had to use butter on it. I laughed to myself thinking about “the horror!” while I clutched my metaphorical pearls. The red velvet was probably the best, but in general the cakes were too sweet – good thing the menu included free tap water. Afterwards, I was comped another free decaf as an “apology for the delay”. However, when I tried to pay, more drama ensued. First the card-reading machine was not working, then they could not take cash because they were balancing the register, then they could bring the machine to the table. All in all, I spent almost hour and a half there – about five minutes waiting to be seated, forty minutes waiting for the tea set, and twenty minutes trying to pay. I’m sorry to say I did not tip, nor do I plan to ever come back.

I missed my train due to the paying delay, and I had to wait almost half an hour for another one. I hung out the Christmas market for a bit, and looked at the lights around Puerta de Atocha station. As it was cold, I walked in and went to check out the original train station, now turned botanical garden. I had never stopped to look at the iron ceiling, just at the plants – and the tortoises people used to dump there – but there had been an old photograph during the Casa Palazuelo visit that made me want to look at the building itself, and I recognised that old station in today’s building, with its wrung iron columns. Funny, how you can look at the same old things and recognise them.

3rd December 2023: Sushi, I“k”ons, Goddesses and Light Bugs (Madrid, Spain)

I had evening plans in Madrid with my sibling, and they wanted to have lunch in town and make a day trip out of it. Since I had previously ascertained that the Running Sushi franchise was all right and fun, I proposed to check out another of the locations. They agreed and I had booked a 13:00 slot at Running Sushi in Akihabara, near Plaza de España. It was even more fun than the one I had checked out before, with Godzilla, Taito Station signs, Pacman, neon, anime graffiti in the toilets, and Japanese music playing. From the outside, the restaurant is shaped like a train carriage, and the sliding doors relay the same message they do when Tokyo JR stops at the station at Akihabara. In general, Running Sushi Akihabara offered the same food as the In Market restaurant, but this time there was tuna. I don’t know if it is because of the location, or because it was a weekend – and thus more expensive. Reservation was a great idea, because though I had no problem booking for 13:00, there were plenty other people with and without bookings, and when 14:00 – standard Spain lunch time – approached, the place became almost crowded. We stayed for the whole hour since we had a late start due to missing chopsticks and napkins, and I own up that the last takoyaki might have been excessive. This time, I remembered to ask for the membership card – you get a reward if you visit all the restaurants in the holding, something I’m considering to aim for.

Running Sushi Akihabara

After lunch, we had a 14:50 ticket for a place called IKONO. I have to say I’m warming up more and more to these Instagrammable places – I’ve recently read one of them described as a “fun house” and I think it’s a more than accurate idea. I like them because they’re silly places for, quite literally, kicks and giggles. According to themselves, IKONO was born as a leisure option alternative to “restaurants, shopping and clubbing” for young people – I disagree with the “young people” take though. Out of the permanent establishments of its kind in Madrid, it is probably my favourite.

The IKONO mood kicks off even before you go in, with a peacock-like armchair just outside the main entrance. Spread over three floors, the venue has 15 different experiences / things to do. Once your tickets have been checked, the first “door” you go through is a thick wall of foil fringe curtains in a gradient of shiny colours,which felt like going through the Stargate! (I know, I know, niche comment). All through the place, there is bouncy music playing.

Once you have crossed the curtain – I somehow ended up in a weird inner space instead of where I was supposed to reach, but that’s just me – the first room is a ball pit, and a deep one at that. It was quite hard to move there. There are quite fewer rules than in other ball pits too – you can jump in, and throw balls up. Once you manage to drag yourself out of the ball pit, you get to go upstairs, what I’ve mentally named the “paper floor”. It has three rooms – the landing one has a pretty origami tree and some wings for you to take pictures with. There is a “psychedelic” ward with black-and-white décor and a blue-and-pink confetti cannon. The third one is a dark “jungle scenery” with glow-in-the dark colourings and paintings that I really loved – the frogs were adorable, and the serpent god quite impressive.

Back on the ground floor, the following room is a Japanese-style bamboo forest with wooden lanterns and a torii [鳥居], the traditional entryway to a Shinto shrine. As you may imagine, this was my favourite area. The room walls are covered in mirror, so it looks like a long path, that ends in the following room, a “bamboo forest” which a felt a little underwhelming in comparison. According to the website, the idea of IKONO cemented while visiting the Japanese Arashiyama bamboo grove, and these two rooms are a homage to that place.

Then we walked downstairs, to the “lights area”, with a few more rooms, including some hanging bellflower-shaped lamps, and another with lights made with marbles that went on and off to the music, some modern art inspired by The Last Supper, and a cube of infinite light dots. Back upstairs, there were a couple more panels for photo-ops, and a small souvenir shop. The staff offered a small present if we left a Google review, so we did. Oh, and they had a cloak option for coats, which was amazing.

IKONO Madrid highlights

We walked outside towards our following spot Caixa Forum Madrid, where there are two exhibitions at the moment. The one I really wanted to see was Veneradas y Temidas: el poder femenino en el arte y las creencias, “Worshipped and Feared: Feminine power in art and beliefs”, an exhibit on the female presence in the religion and spirituality of different cultures. The other one was Horizonte y Límite: Visiones del Paisaje. Colección de Arte contemporáneo, “Horizon and Limits: Views / visions of Landscape. Collection of Contemporary Art”, which I had not read about beforehand – because I am biased.

Veneradas y Temidas: el poder femenino en el arte y las creencias is a British Museum’s touring exhibition, Feminine power: the divine to the demonic (which I feel is a more appropriate name, but that’s just me and my problem with translations). It is a collection of artefacts (most of them not exhibited anywhere else) originating from different cultures, trying to convey the “female spiritual power”, though it also has snippets of erotism and homosexuality. One of the most important and impressive pieces include a copy of the Campo Iemini Venus, a “modest Venus”, halfway though covering herself – a copy of the Capitoline Venus, it was found in an Italian Roman villa in 1792. Aphrodite / Venus was the Greek / Roman goddess of Goddess of beauty, love, lust, passion, pleasure, and sexuality. Other Ancient Greece and Rome pieces include Hecate / Trivia (goddess of boundaries, crossroads, ghosts, magic, necromancy, transitions, and the New Moon), Athena / Minerva (Goddess of handicraft, warfare, and wisdom) or Eros / Cupid (God of desire, love, lust, and sex). There are several pieces of pottery, both red and black, depicting different scenes of various… degrees of erotism.

Halfway between Athena and Aphrodite, the goddess Ishtar, Queen of Heaven, and goddess of love and sexuality was worshipped in Mesopotamia (modern Iraq). Though according to the mythology, she had many lovers and was responsible for creation, she was not considered a “mother goddess”, and one of her advocations is the goddess of war.

The Divine to the Demonic: Greece and Mesopotamia

The first thing we saw from Asia were three masks. There was Taraka [Tāṭakā], a Hindu spirit, whose rage upon the murder of her husband turned her turned into a man-eating ogre (ogress?). From Bali, there was Rangda, the demon queen, antagonist of the forces of good, leader of an army of evil witches, and child-eater. From Japan there was a hannya [般若], the jealous vengeful spirit of a scorned woman.

Also from Hinduism, there is a creepily fantastic (or fantastically creepy?) devotional icon (murti [मूर्ति]) of Kali [काली], goddess of death, doomsday and time. The sculpture is the advocation Dakshina Kali – depicted with four arms, a scimitar, a collar made of heads of her slain enemies, and Shiva at her feet. The murti represents a passage in which Kali goes on a rampage after fighting demons, having lost control, and her consort Shiva throws himself at her feet hoping to calm her down.

Theatre masks and Indian Goddess Kali

Among the Egyptian representations, there was Sekhmet, the warrior goddess, represented as a lioness, who was also the goddess of medicine and one of the sun deities. There were also Bastet, who started off similar to Sekhmet but became more of a protector figure, represented as a cat. There were also references to the cosmic goddess Nut, who symbolises the sky, stars, astronomy, the universe, and mothers.

From China, there was a gorgeous Guanyin [觀音] as the Goddess of Compassion, a very different style from the one I had seen in either the British Museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum. There was also a Shiva porcelain which was astonishing.

Egyptian Sekhmet and Chinese Guaiying

From Meso- and South America, there was a beautiful sandstone of Toci, the “mother of the gods” who is depicted with bare breasts and her hands on her belly. There was also a statue of a Mexican cihuateotl. The cihuateteo were spirits of women who died in childbirth, and received the same honours as the warriors who died in combat. There were other references, such as the Hawai’ian goddess of the sea Na-maka-o-Kaha’i, talismans of sex and love (because the Victorians were a bunch of perverts), references to the Mesopotamian demon Lamashtu, Egyptian protection sculptures, funerary steles… and some modern art kind of thing, like a lady sitting down with a ball python slithering on her because… yeah? I really enjoyed the exhibition, though I have to admit I ignored the interactive art a little, to focus on the mythological aspect.

Afterwards, we visited the contemporary art exhibition Horizonte y Límite, which focuses on different… I’m not sure because I know squat about contemporary art (see above comment about the lady and the snake). There were paintings, imaginary photographs, a piece made from different geological cores representing a fault, a panel with postcards, a glass box filled with smoke to represent climate change… Pleasant, but not really my thing. Except the geology cores, they were cool.

Art piece fromthe exhibition Horizonte y Límite: Visiones del Paisaje

After seeing both exhibitions, we headed off towards our next stop. We took a break and sat down for a while to have a great banana-and-strawberry smoothie of all things. Then we walked towards the park Parque Enrique Tierno Galván, where we had tickets for the light show Naturaleza Encendida: Insectos “Lit-up nature: Insects”. The Naturaleza Encendida show used to take place in the Botanical Garden, which is smaller. This year, it has been relocated this year for “reasons unknown” and it feels a bit too long and almost unconnected. All that without taking into account that the idea of a larger-than-me butterfly and giant spiders is a bit creepy to be honest. We had premium tickets which gave us access to the enclosure at any time between 18:00 and 19:00 without queueing, and decided to arrive there around 18:30 as it would already be dark. We had also ordered a cute “magic lantern” – a bunch of sparkling LED filaments – for the giggles.

After an entrance of archways and carpets of light, there is a swarm of dragonflies as a centrepiece. You walk around it, and enter the zig-zagging path. Along the route, you encounter butterflies of different kinds, a line of hard-working ants, bees, grasshoppers, more bees, mosquitoes and flies, more bees, eggs, more grasshoppers, disco balls, larvae (I think? If I had to hazard a guess I’d call them anemones), beetles, ladybugs, spiders and a row of differently-coloured Christmas trees. There were “light corridors” in-between, hive-like hexagons projected onto the trees, and lots of artificial smoke. There are supposed to be some praying mantises somewhere but… I did not see those?

Naturaleza Encendida Insectos figures

All in all, Naturaleza Encendida: Insectos felt too spread out, as if trying to justify the bigger space. Though we had a premium ticket, there was no special premium-only area, and the only benefit was having an hour to go in, without having to queue – which is already enough in my books. I think you really have to be into the topic – we came across a lady who was very freaked out and mostly running so she could get away from the bugs. I have been to three editions of Naturaleza Encendida, and the only one I really enjoyed was the sea-creatures one, Explorium. I thought that the bad weather last year had damped the experience – literally – but I’m going to stop holding my hopes high.

Finally, we headed back to the train station. My morning train had had a five-minute delay, which by the early evening had progressed to the upper 40s. Joy. I’m hoping that when free ticketing is over, service will improve, but I’m not holding my hopes too high…

12th November 2023: Trains and Parks (Madrid, Spain)

I had booked a visit for 15:30 using Madrid’s program to divulge the Heritage of the city Pasea Madrid (“Walk Madrid”), and I had planned a great day around it. Unfortunately, such plan had me on the best train to get to the demonstrations happening there at noon and therefore it would most likely be “delayed due to uncontrollable circumstances” or worse. Thus, I needed a new plan. Since there was a yellow weather-alert in effect across the parks in the area I wanted to be , I just drew a general list of places I could check out and decided to keep it flexible.

The day did not start off as I had imagined it. I slacked off a bit in the morning and by the time I was ready to leave, it was too too late to catch the original train of the second plan. There was part of me which was really not in it, and I considered just cancelling the visit and staying home. Then again – I reasoned with myself – the visit was sold out every other day, I had been lucky to secure a spot. I did not know whether I would be lucky enough to be free when the next batch of tickets were released, nor if the dates were convenient – if they ever opened again, or as the webpage said, it was a “special occasion” (honestly, I think that they just say it is to hype up the reservations). Thus I set off to catch the next train, still in good time for plan B as it was flexible and I could just kick one stop off if necessary.

Once in Madrid, I headed off to the Railway Museum Museo del Ferrocarril, technically closed that day due to the monthly flea market Mercado de Motores. It turns out that the ground floor of the museum is still open, which allows you to have a look at the main train collection (actual historical trains) and take some cool pictures. For once, I was not the only one with the camera, but one among a bunch – to the point that a few of us ended up queueing for a similar picture at some point.

The Railway Museum is located in what remains of the former terminus of Delicias, which opened in 1880. Designed by French engineer Émile Cachelièvre, it had three distinctive areas – the passenger building, the loading docks, and the customs building. The last train left the station on the 30th July 1969, at 22:15, headed for Badajoz. In 1984, the Railway Museum opened in the passenger building, which kept the former platforms.

Fleamarket at the Railway Museum

I am not sure how crowded the museum is during normal days, but for the market, it was packed. I had secured a free entry reservation, just in case. The main building hosts a number of actual trains which serviced passengers and cargo throughout Spanish history – real locomotives and cars on the tracks they used to travel. Before Covid, one of the cars was used as cafeteria, and another as an Orient-Express-inspired restaurant, neither of which are in active now. Though the side rooms of the ground floor and the upper floors were closed due to the market, I got to see the trains from the outside and admire the building structure.

Railway Museum Madrid

In the outer part of the museum, I found the food court and the former tracks which disappear into the nearby park. To the side stands the miniature train complex Ferrocarril de Las Delicias a layout of tiny trains – a 265-metre long, 127-millimetre wide track, to be exact – where you can travel on equally-scaled trains, with classical tickets and all. My original idea had been riding it, but I found a great spot for photographs and decided not to queue through all the toddlers and their parents. I thought that since I wanted to go back to the museum to see all the rooms, I could do that on a day when the tiny trains were running.

Miniature trains in Delicias

I left the station-turned-museum and walked towards the so-called Pantheon of Spain Panteón de España, a burial site for remarkable Spanish politicians, noblemen and military personalities – formerly known as the “Illustrious Men”. Before mobile phones with a camera were a thing, my school took my class to the crypt, but nowadays only the upper area and the gardens can be visited. The original plan, designed by Fernando Arbós y Tremanti in the Neobyzantine style, comprised a basilica with a bell tower and a cloister. The project began in 1891, but only the tower – now part of a school – and the cloister had been built when construction stopped in 1899 due to astronomical costs. In the cloister, there are funerary monuments to a number of important Spaniards who were exhumed and reburied there, such as Mateo Sagasta, Antonio de los Ríos y Rosas, Anonio Cánovas del Castillo or José Canalejas. Eight tombs and a central monument can be visited in the cloister and the central garden. The entrance is decorated with golden mosaics, and the interior is white calcite and grey slate, with domed rooftops. The central garden had flowering winter roses and a view of the abandoned bell tower.

Pantheon of Spain

I headed out towards Madrid’s main park Parque del Retiro, part of which had been restricted until noon due to predicted strong winds. The weather, however, was fantastic, even warm, which felt weird for such autumn-coloured day – it made the yellow alert issued a little strange. The park was gold, red and orange everywhere, a stark contrast with the green grass and bushes. I reached the crystal palace Palacio de Cristal, which looked extremely cool with the fall tones, though it was packed.

Retiro park in autumn

El Retiro crystal palace

I took a turn towards an area that I had not visited before inside the park. In the 18th century, when the now-public park was the monarch’s garden, the royal gardeners kept complaining that flowers bloomed where they had not planted them, and blamed a magical force living in the park. The Spanish word used is duende, which is a nature creature somewhere in-between a fairy, a spirit and a gnome. The sculpture Duende del Retiro was created by José Noja in 1985 to honour the legend. The duende plays a flute while sitting on a stone hut, which used to be a cage for the bears of the former zoo Casa de Fieras del Retiro, now turned into the garden Jardines de Herrero Palacios. I’m glad no animals live there any more, except some geese and ducks that can fly – or waddle – away any time they want, but considering how much they get fed by passers-by, I doubt they care about doing so.

Duende of Retiro Park

I finally made my way towards the central pond of the park Estanque Grande and the monument to King Alfonso XII Monumento a Alfonso XII, my 15:30 visit. The monument is composed by a colonnade, two lion-gates, four mermaids sitting on different marine animals, and a triumphal column with a sculpture of the king riding a horse on top. The complex measures 30 metres high, 86 metres long and 58 metres wide. The colonnade is public access, and I would not have booked a guided visit for it. However, what made the visit special is that we were granted access to inside the column to climb to the lookout that lies within the top pedestal where the horse stands (97 steps, thankfully on newish metal ones).

Alfonso XII became king of Spain in 1874. He grew up in exile in France until his mother, Queen Isabel II abdicated when he was 17 years old. He reigned for almost eleven years. His first wife, reportedly his one-and-only love, died within a few months of marriage. He married again, and had three children with his second wife, Queen María Cristina, two more with his opera singer lover. He was charismatic and the Spanish loved him, he was called “the bringer of peace”. He died while María Cristina was still pregnant with his son, king-to-be Alfonso XIII, and she became Regent. It would eventually be Alfonso XIII who inaugurated the monument to his father.

The monument was designed by architect José Grases Riera and involved as many as 20 sculptors. Probably the most important one was Mariano Benlliure, who made the horse and the king in bronze – the horse is about seven metres long, and the whole sculpture from the horse’s hooves to the King’s hat, about eight metres high. Grases Riera placed his project on the existing pier of the pond, in order not to cut down any tree from the park, as a pier could always be rebuilt somewhere else. The monument was funded by the public, so it alternates cheaper stone and more expensive bronze, according to how much money there was at nay given moment. The colonnade features shields from the different Spanish regions at the time, and the main column has scenes from the King’s life and allegories to Peace, Industriousness, the Arts… Completion took 20 years from the call for projects in 1902 to the monument inauguration in 1922.

Monument to Alfonso XII across the Great Pond

The lookout is encased in the pedestal where the horse stands. It has windows made of glass to allow a 360-degree view of the park, and I swear I had never even realised it was there. The stairs were not steep and there were cool views from the lookout, especially with the autumn colours, and the sun starting to set. The guide was good – just again impressed by the camera – and explained to us everything that could be seen from there. A relative, however, took the same visit a few days later and, when we compared notes, the information we had been told was rather… different.

Monument to King Alfonso XII - horse and king close up, plus views from the viewpoint

The whole visit took an hour, with 15 minutes at the lookout, and we were out by 16:30. It took me a bit over 25 minutes to reach the station, but the train was late – it was actually at the platform when I got there even if it should have left ten minutes beforehand. I hopped in, and I spent the ride organising the photos on the phone. I am glad I did not cancel the visit and went on with it. I shall remember that for the upcoming one.

23rd October 2023: Happiness Museum and a former hospital, Madrid (Spain)

At the beginning of the year, I found out about an old hospital building turned office building that looked pretty interesting to visit in Madrid had opened up. It is a governmental office, so the visits are guided and supervised. Unfortunately, I was working an afternoon shift and they only run the visits on Mondays at 16:00. I signed up for the waiting list hoping for a summer visit, but they don’t run them in July and August. The September and early October visits did not work out either because I was in London. I finally managed a spot for the visit on the 16th of October, which was rescheduled for the 23rd. It’s not hardcore work season yet, so I was easy to rearrange meetings to have the day off.

Of course, it was a Monday, and Mondays are not Madrid’s best day, especially when the weather is not nice – most things are closed, and even though there are many neat parks, they usually close in the event of storms or winds. However, I almost accidentally discovered something potentially-fun and open, and I made plans with my sibling and nibling, who had a free morning.

I took a train with an hour’s berth of time, but then, because what else is new, there were train issues, and we were all delayed. I was stuck on my line for almost 40 minutes, and decided to walk instead of taking the connection, and they were waiting at their station for almost 30. If you are wondering why I keep taking the train, it is because during 2023 I can get a four-month unlimited pass for 10€, which beats any other transportation mode.

In the end, we luckily made it on time to a new photo-op place, which calls itself the Museum of Happiness Museo de la Felicidad MüF, with a little happy face on the u. It is a two-storey… silly-fun kind of place. Out of all the “instagrammable” places I’ve visited, I think this has been the weakest, as there were actually few things to actually do (too many touchscreens), and it kind of looked a bit… plain. Probably because it was Monday morning and there was no animation. I mean, it was fun, don’t get me wrong.

The first thing you see when you come in are two individual trampolines and a slide that ends in a ball pit. As I can’t jump, I skipped the trampoline. There is a small exhibition on lucky symbols, and another on things that make people happy. There is a small soundproof capsule where you are coached on how to laugh – weird – and a “team good people” that you can stand behind for a picture (the message being “kindness brings happiness”). As I was taking a photograph of my nibling, someone – who had just seen me show my ticket – decided I was the official museum photographer. I turned her down as nicely as I could. It was a day with a lot of comments about my camera.

The MüF has some screens and a VR experience, a “magic” trick on a screen, a big heart made of blocks and a hugging machine – apparently made to comfort autistic kids who benefit from deep pressure, but can’t deal with actual people hugging them. To go down from the second floor back to the first one, you can use the slide into the ball pit or the plain old stairs. That slide is steeper than it looks…

The basement has a few more things that you can touch, a ward with headphones and uppy songs, and the abrazadores (huggers), big plushies that are apparently designed to simulate hugs and grow people’s confidence. They were fuzzy and warm, but I am not sure how they can improve your mental health… There are a few confidence boosters, and a “five-senses happiness booth” where you get to eat chocolate, which is always good. In the end there were lots of silly giggling, because in the end that is why you go to places like that. There is also a “closet of truth” which you should not spoil for other people and helps you discover who is the most important person in your life.

Happiness Museum Madrid

After the museum we headed off for an early lunch. Despite being 300 km from the nearest port in the Mediterranean Sea, one of Madrid’s most famous meals is the calamari sandwich – bocadillo de calamares. A lot has been speculated about how this came to happen, though no one is really sure how the sandwich made its way into the local gastronomy throughout the 20th century. The squid is cut in rings, battered, and served within a small loaf of rustic bread similar to a baguette (pan de barra), an interesting combination at the very least.

The most famous joint to eat a calamari sandwich is Bar El Brillante. It might not be the best, and it quite surely is not the friendliest, but it is the iconic place for it, which actually makes it a tourist spot. The bar was established in the 1950s and it is a family company, the current owner being the third generation. They do not care much about customer loyalty as their business is based on the “novelty” and the “being a must do in Madrid” since the 90s – or maybe they’re just nice to regulars? I for one I’m open to try thebocadillo de calamares again, but not the place. The staff was unhelpful and took forever to clear the tables, which led to a lot of… hm… “birdwatching” as pigeons and sparrows helped themselves to leftovers.

Calamari Sandwich at El Brillante

We separated after lunch and ice-cream, and I continued alone towards the Chamberí district, which at the beginning of the 20th century was the outskirts of Madrid. There, philanthropist Dolores Romero Arano commissioned architect Antonio Palacios to build a hospital for labourers: Hospital de Jornaleros, known today as Hospital de Maudes. During that time, it was typical that a hospital had a “target patient”. In this case, it was male workers from the newly industrialised city who were not infectious or incurable – sort of a trauma unit, early-20th-century style. They took in labourers that could be cured, nursed them back to health, and released in “perfect working conditions”. Considering, of course, that the hospital opened in 1916.

For the building, Antonio Palacios chose a cross layout with a hall on one side and a church on the opposite one and two smaller buildings to complete the symmetry. He used Francisco Zuloaga’s ceramics for decoration until money ran out, and aimed for lots of light and open spaces. There are two types of decorative ceramics on the outside: water drops which imitate waves, and broken tile mosaics (Trencadís, a technique favoured by Antoni Gaudí). Palacios even built lifts of sorts to take patients to the roofs of the wards. The hospital worked for its intended purpose until the Civil War broke out and it became a military one. It was eventually abandoned and derelict during the following years until it was bought and restored by the local government in the late 20th century.

All this was explained to us during a 45 minute talk for an hour-and-a-half visit, as we stood in the hallway – which is actually in the basement floor. I arrived about 15:50 for the 16:00 visit, gave my name and ID and sat to wait. We had to go through metal detector and X-ray before the visit started – there is a volunteer guide from a retiree association and an actual worker to chaperone (governmental workers do not work afternoons in summer, which explained then why there had not been visits during that period as I had hoped for). Once the “introduction” was over, we finally got to see what I wanted to see – the building itself. Unfortunately, as the guide prattled on and on inside, it had started raining, so we could not go out to the patio, nor barely see the outside. That was disappointing – I mean, I’m all in for introductions and historical contexts but this is my problem with guided visits, it is just too much talking and too little visiting.

As we walked into the inside of the building, we were pointed out to the ceramics on the walls. Then, the tunnel that connected the hospital with the morgue – which was one of the outer minor buildings. We went up using one of the decorative stairs and we finally arrived at the ground floor of the crossing point of the wards. The centre of the structure is the octagonal patio with the fountain in the middle. As people saw me taking photographs with the camera – I had asked for permission beforehand – they decided I was either a journalist or the official photographer. It got annoying at the fourth or fifth time I was asked or someone made a comment / joke about me photographing them. Which I was very careful not to, even if they keep walking into my field of view.

Maudes Laborers Hospital exterior

The main material of the building is white limestone, which both contributes to the building’s luminosity and it’s common in Palacio’s design. His likings are also shown in the green colour of the interior tiles, which are very similar to the ones in the ghost station of Chamberí. The tiles all along the corridors are decorated and some of them feature heraldic symbols. We got to snoop around the cafeteria, one of the few areas that still features the original floor, since most of the flooring was too damaged to be restored.

The central area surrounding the patio is also octagonal, full of ground-to-ceiling windows. From one side of the corridor to the other and through the patio you can even seethe main staircase that we used to access the second floor behind the windows. Once on the second floor, we crossed the metal bridge that separates the main building from one of the accessory constructions, where the external consultation rooms used to be. Finally, we went downstairs again, walked around the patio and crossed over to the former operating theatres (the above-ground area of the morgue), which are now being transformed into an exhibition room.

Maudes Laborers Hospital interior

By the time the visit was over, it was raining heavily, but I still had the time to visit the in-hospital church Santa María del Silencio, Our Lady of Silence, which is the parish of the Madrid deaf and hard-of-hearing community. Lots of the architecture details are Modernist in style, including the iron fence and coloured glass ceiling.

Altarpiece in Our Lady of Silence

It was still raining cats and dogs when I left, so I forsook the idea of walking around the building to take pictures of the main hospital entrance, I just crossed the street to head to the train station. After aquaplaning on the square to get in, I had to wait about 50 minutes for a train, as the morning breakdown was still causing delays. And of course, when the train came it had already stopped raining.

Maudes Laborers Hospital and Our Lady of Silence from the outside

It was a nice day out, with great company and lots of laughs. Food was okay, the hospital building was amazing, the guide not so much. And the weather… very… autumn-ly.

12th – 14th October 2023: Yoshiki Classical World Tour “REQUIEM”, London (England, Great Britain)

This was my third and last trip to London in these five crazy weeks, and it was again to see Yoshiki. Someone once told me that I love Yoshiki because he appeals to both my wild and posh sides – it is partially true, I guess. It has a lot to do with how many of his lyrics resonate with me, more deeply than I am comfortable admitting sometimes.

I don’t think I would have travelled twice so close in time for any other artist. And believe me, organising this trip was a logistics nightmare. In other circumstances I would have flown out the same day of the event, which was Friday the 13th, but I don’t think that airports in the UK have completely recovered from the Covid chaos, and there are still a bunch of issues – just the previous week to my arrival, a good number of flights were cancelled in Gatwick. Second, the 12th is a holiday where I live, and since it was a Thursday, it kickstarted a long weekend. And last but not least, the 12th is also my parent’s birthday, and they were excited for a big celebratory lunch.

Taking all this into account, I tried to coordinate everything the best I could without breaking the bank. I found the last plane leaving on Thursday the 12th, at 21:50. That gave me time to have lunch at my parents’, then drive off past 19:00 – there should not be too much traffic. I booked the parking lot – the shuttle runs every 15 minutes in the evenings. In the worst case scenario, if my flight was cancelled or too delayed, there was space to manoeuvre on Friday morning. The plane was scheduled to arrive in London Gatwick close to midnight, but I was quite sure it would be delayed, and in order to avoid late-night trains and stress, I reserved a hotel next to the airport terminal – I did not have to worry about dinner as my parents make food to feed a small army. For the following night, I found a “boutique hotel” next to the venue. I booked my return flight on Saturday the 14th in order to avoid the end-of-weekend traffic that would concentrate on Sunday.

Great plan. In the end, something happened and the celebration had to be postponed, so I spent the evening watching the clock, and checking and rechecking both the weather forecast and my luggage – finding something to wear that was nice and still weather-appropriate was difficult. I changed my mind regarding footwear about six times.

Around 19:00 on the 12th, I finally drove to the airport. Considering that the forecast was rain both at home and at London, I took boots in the end, but more comfy shoes for driving. I reached the parking lot and airport a bit earlier than expected, and I found a nice covered spot for the car – which I had to check that it was not reserved a few times. As I entered the international terminal, I was disoriented for a second – since I usually take planes before 7:00, I had not seen the shops open for a long time! It turns out there is a Duty Free just after passport control which I had not even realised before, and that threw me off track for a heartbeat or two.

I had some dinner at one of the fast food stands, and as expected, the plane was delayed. Then it needed an engineer. Then it taxied forever. And after almost two hours of delay, the two-hour-and-a-bit flight to Gatwick was cut short – we landed not even ten minutes late, so we flew the route in a little over an hour. I never knew you could step on it so bad on a plane! I went through passport control and found my hotel – just outside the North Terminal, and much closer than I had calculated. Gatwick was also crazy busy even if it was nearly midnight.

I checked in, and I was surprised that even though it was the same chain I had stayed at next to the O2 Academy Islington, the procedure was completely different. But it went without a hitch, and I was in bed within thirty minutes. I even caught some sleep. For some reason they gave me a room with a sofa-bed aside the regular one.

Leaving in the morning was a bit more complicated. After a much-needed caffeine boost at Costa Coffee, I took the inner airport shuttle from the North to the South Terminal, where the train station is. From there, I found my connection to central London. The good thing is that Gatwick trains belong to a regular line, so they do not require a special ticket, you can use the Oyster card, which I did. The shuttle and train went through awful weather, but when I reached London, rain and wind had calmed down a little. I wanted to leave my things at the hotel because of the bad weather and not to go into any museums with the backpack – just in case. The nice person doing my check in was very stressed that I might want my room – it was before 10:00 for a 15:00 hour check-in. I really just wanted them to hold my luggage. After that was successful, my next step was finding a bank that would exchange a handful of old pounds for new ones. In the end, train, underground, hotel and bank took a bit longer than I had expected and I was running a bit behind my self-imposed schedule.

My first stop was Sir John Soane’s Museum. Sir John Soane was a neoclassical architect – he worked in the remodelling of the Palace of Westminster, but his most prominent legacy is his house-museum. He bought a couple of attached houses in the centre of London, and combined them both as an architecture experiment and to host his collection of antiquities, copies, paintings, and pieces of architectural interest. There was a special Act of Parliament to establish the museum while Soane was still alive, stating that after his death the houses should be kept as they were, to avoid his son selling the collection, as some of pieces were / are worth a fortune. For reference, one of the most important artefacts hosted there is the sarcophagus of Egyptian Pharaoh Seti I (Second Dynasty). Adventurer Giovanni Battista Belzoni tried to sell the piece to the British Museum after taking it from the Valley of the Kings in Thebes. The Museum was not willing to pay what today would equate to almost £200,000, but Soane bought it in 1817 to exhibit it in the basement “sepulchral chamber”, where it still stands today.

Entry to the museum is free, but you are requested to purchase the guide for £3, which I did. The first area you visit is the lovely library, and then you step into the real treasure – the area comprised by “the dome”, “the colonnade” and “the corridors”, where literally hundreds of sculptures, friezes, amphorae, decorative pieces… pile up on one another to the point that everything is overwhelming and fantastically chaotic. Wherever you look, there is something else to notice – whether it is Apollo, a copy of the Farnese Hercules, a pegasus… Then you go down to the basement, and both the “catacombs” and the “sepulchral chamber” are equally cluttered – a pair of Chinese guardian lion-dogs, Aphrodite bathing, a Poseidon head, and of course Seti I’s alabaster sarcophagus, encased in glass, which sucks for pictures but protects it in the super-tight space.

Artefacts at Sir Soane Museum

Sarcophagus of Seti I in Sir Soane Museum

Other spaces include the kitchen – which feels strangely empty in comparison– the drawing rooms on the first floor, and the picture room on the ground floor – with some of Canaletto’s Venetian landscapes, and drawings of ancient monuments. All in all, whenever you blinked, you missed a detail. It was almost stressful, but an amazing place to visit.

Afterwards, I met up with fellow Yoshiki fans A****d and A**i, at the British Museum. They were going there first thing, and we had arranged to get together around noon, but I ran a bit late and only reached them around 12:20. Through that time, they went through the must-dos. We met at the Ancient Middle East and saw a few exhibits about the history of money, one on clocks, Roman Britain, the library… They asked me if there was anything I recommended, and we went past the Moai so I could show them one of my favourite sculptures ever – the Bodhisattva Guanyin [觀音 in Chinese], associated with compassion, in the Chinese Art Gallery. Guanyin sits with one leg up in a very relaxed and informal position compared to other Buddhist imagery, and I just adore this wooden representation.

Artefacts in the British Museum

Around 14:00, we went out for lunch. We tried an okonomiyaki place near the British Museum, but it was unfortunately full, and both my friends had had CoCo Curry the previous night. We walked into Chinatown and we found a self-proclaimed izakaya Japanese restaurant called Oita (Soho). I ordered sushi bento for £16.95, which at first felt a bit expensive, but I had forgotten British-sized servings. It was actually very proportionate size-wise, and came with complimentary miso soup. The bento (“boxed lunch”) itself comprised a small salad, seven pieces of assorted raw fish on sushi rice (tuna, salmon, butterfish, mackerel, squid, prawn and octopus – these last two were no raw, actually), four assorted nigiri (tuna, salmon, butterfish, mackerel), three salmon sashimi, two tuna sashimi, three avocado hosomaki, and some garnishing including cucumber, radish and alfalfa, along with pickled ginger and wasabi. It was really good.

Oita Soho sushi bento

The three of us separated after lunch to go to our hotels and get ready. On my way, I bought a sandwich and a bottle of water from a supermarket to have for the night, and decided to take a shower before changing into concert gear. When I reached my hotel, they showed me around, and told me my luggage was in the room – which it was not. I had to come down again to get it, which embarrassed the staff a lot. The room was posh to the max – I even had a bed with a canopy! Apparently, boutique hotels are “small hotels with a personality” that try to “tailor the experience to the customer”. For me, a hotel is just a place to sleep in, so I’m just happy with them being safe and clean. I can do without the personality, the steeper price, and the surprise extra service charge.

I reserved the hotel through Booking, and they got in touch that they wanted payment outside the page. I dislike this, but it is not unheard from. I needed to demand my payment receipt, too, because the page did not generate any. Later, they tried to charge me through Booking again (though in their “defence” this might have been a Booking issue, as it has been hacked). In the end, the image I got from them was that of an overpriced wannabe high-end hotel, but there were too many blunders to consider coming back if I can help it.

At least, the hotel fulfilled the one reason I had chosen it – it was a short walk from the Royal Albert Hall. Considering how badly I felt after the Miyavi concert a couple of weeks before, I was a bit apprehensive this was going to be too much. It was, but not in the worse sense of the word. The recital was emotionally hard on me, as I tend to connect a bit too much with Yoshiki’s music, but fortunately I did not take ill this time around.

I was deeply moved when I attended the first Yoshiki Classical concert in Paris in 2014, but this time my mind was absolutely blown. Back in May, in a moment of fanby weakness, I decided to buy RAH membership (£55) in order to get access to the presale. Despite that, I only managed a sixth-row seat to the side – Arena F – Row 6, Seat 27 (£60). These were sent by post and arrived in physical form in late July. I decided on this delivery method because even if the tickets did not arrive on time, or got lost, I still had the option of “will call” with my ID and the card used for purchase (of course, my bank decided to cancel my cards meanwhile and get me new ones, so I’ve been running around with both working and not-working cards in my wallet for the last couple of months).

Having a RAH account also meant that I was notified about a “Yoshiki meet and greet VIP package” within minutes of its release, which included an exclusive opportunity to meet Yoshiki after the concert in the 1871 Bar, a photo opportunity with Yoshiki, and a piece of merchandise for signing (£150) – I booked it as soon as the email came through, and I think I was the 10th person to buy the upgrade. These tickets were supposed to arrive by post, too, but the venue changed them to e-tickets the week before the show – when I was already antsy about them arriving – “will call” was still an option, but I was restless.

Around 18:15 I left the hotel to walk to the venue to meet A****d and A**i. The Royal Albert Hall is one of the most famous concert venues in the United Kingdom. It was world’s first domed amphitheatre, designed by two civil engineers, Francis Fowke and Henry Y.D. Scott, and inaugurated by Queen Victoria in 1871. The outer structure is built in Fareham Red brick with a mosaic frieze that represents the arts and sciences, and the roof is a glass and wrought-iron dome. It has several halls and a corridor surrounding the amphitheatre, with several bars and other hospitality offerings.

The three of us walked around and found the merch stand, which was a bit underwhelming – two short-sleeve T-shirt models, and a tote bag. I kind of regret not getting the tote now, but I felt I had already spent too much money. A****d was sitting next to me, and A**i just a couple of rows behind. However, upon being shown to the amphitheatre when doors opened around 18:45 for the 19:30 concert, my brain shortcut. Rows 1 to 5 were inexistent. My row 6 ticket was a first row ticket. I was first row for a Yoshiki concert!

Fine, to the side and with some camera equipment in between, but I was first row for a Yoshiki concert. In particular, for Yoshiki’s Yoshiki Classical 10th Anniversary World Tour with Orchestra 2023 “REQUIEM” on the 13th of October 2023.

Yoshiki Requiem Poster 2023

Most seats had a small booklet, and since mine did not, I decided to “steal” it from a still-empty seat – I’m selfish, sue me. Once my brain settled down enough to take everything in, there were two things I noticed – one, that the grand piano in the centre of the stage was not Yoshiki’s trademark glass piano, and two, that his drum set was there. This was not a huge surprise as he had hinted it during the Q&A in September that he wanted to do something with it. We passed the time looking at people come in, being impressed at how fancy some people dressed, meeting other friends, and taking photographs in front of the stage.

Inside the Royal Albert Hall

The concert / recital was intense. Most of the music played had been composed by Yoshiki himself either for his different collaborations or for X Japan. Vocals were entrusted to pop singer Beverly [ビバリー] and soprano Ai Ichihara [市原 愛]. Special guests St.Vincent and Ellie Goulding sang their own songs. The Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra was conducted by Ward Stare. Ballet dancers from Jlee Productions performed on stage during Forever Love and Swan Lake..

Setlist:

Part 1
   1. Amethyst (orchestra alone)
   2. Tears
   3. Angel
   4. Miracle with Ai Ichihara
   5. Forever Love
   6. Kiss the Sky with Beverly
   7. Anniversary
Part 2:
   8. Drum improvisation while the orchestra played Serenade for Strings (by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky) and Symphony No. 3 (by Henryk Gorecki) and Ai Ichihara on vocals
   9. Say anything
   10. Swan Lake (by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky)
   11. New York by and with St.Vincent
   12. Love me like you do by and with Ellie Goulding
   13. Red Swan with Beverly
   14. Requiem
   15. Without you
   16. OPUS 13 in A-minor (by Felix Mendelssohn)
   17. Art of Life (second and third movements)
   18. Endless Rain

Although the auditorium opened later than it was supposed to, the concert started almost punctual, a bit past 19:30 – which for Yoshiki is a miracle of ontimeness. He had probably done all his interviews the month before. Director Ward Stare came on stage and the orchestra played Amethyst as warm-up – this is the song that was usually heard at the start X Japan’s concerts, before members came in. Yoshiki walked on stage to play piano from the second song on, Tears. The tour title Requiem comes from the song Yoshiki wrote to honour his mother after she passed – he was understandably devastated, and it made sense to start the show with Tears.

Yoshiki playing piano at Royal Albert Hall

Throughout the concert, he alternated piano-playing and talking – most of the talks we had heard before, but a few were new to me. He told us that when he felt that he had managed a great achievement his mother used to bring him back to earth with questions like “have you eaten?” or “did you sleep?”. He explained that she really praised him when he composed Anniversary for former Emperor Akihito. We also had some promotion of the Under the Sky film, and Yoshiki’s champagne line, along with a recap of him being honoured in LA’s Chinese Theatre. There was also some “thank you to my sponsors” talk, and he might have said “amazing” around a thousand and three times.

The first part went more or less as expected – except for the ballet dancers. I did not think we would get them, but I am not going to complain. I did miss Hero, because I really enjoy listening to that one live, but something had to be taken out to accommodate the songs by the special guests. Some people say that he talks too much, but I think that he’s just trying to catch a breather – both physical and emotional. At one point he spoke about an “X Japan song that we would never really hear”, which was heartbreaking. There is a difference between knowing that there won’t ever be any X Japan ever again, and having it confirmed. Both in September and now, we’ve heard him openly say things that usually went only implied, which I think means that we are in a new stage of his artistic career / life.

Yoshiki Royal Albert Hall with orchestra and ballet dancers

For the second act, he pushed himself even harder with a drum solo to start off. He always smashes the drums as if he were trying to get a confession out of them – it is like he has so much anger inside him and the drums are his only way to release it. In a way, it probably is – he always says that he turned to drumming to deal with his father’s suicide, and that is how he expresses himself. But then he goes back to the piano, and it feels that the keys are crying with him.

The acts with St.Vincent and Ellie Goulding, in my opinion, were more promotional than anything else. Both are well-known and established in their own niches – and Yoshiki likes female singing voices because they can hit high notes better, I think – though I miss Katie Fitzgerald and Ashley Knight, to be honest. St.Vincent was okay, Ellie Goulding left me wondering… what she was doing there. Apparently the pinnacle of her career until now has been composing Love me like you do for the film Fifty shades of grey… And I hate to be that person, but both of them could have chosen way better outfits.

The titular song, Requiem, was extremely poignant. It was the piece Yoshiki wrote to deal with his feelings for his dead mother, in his own words, the means he found to stop crying for her loss. Just like he took to drumming after his father’s death, he took to composing after his mother passed. Later, he explained again how the song Red Swan symbolises standing up through the pain and the blood. The original version of this song is sung by vocalist Hyde, and since he was bringing in people from all around the globe, I would have been extremely happy if he had flown him in for it, and I was hopeful for about one tenth of a heartbeat. Unfortunately, you cannot have everything.

Throughout the recital there were sad moments and happy moments, to thank fans, and to remember those who are gone, moments with ballet dancers and with the torch on the phone on, moments to sing and to laugh, and to feel your heart shrink. In the end, Endless Rain with all the audience was extremely special – it never feels that it is going to be, I keep thinking “this time it’s not going to affect me this much”, but it gets me every time.

Yoshiki talking at the Royal Albert Hall

In the end, the show lasted for about three hours, plus a twenty-minute intermission. He thanked the conductor, the orchestra and dancers and the guests, and received lots of flower bouquets. Next to me, A****d managed to give him a Union Jack with a small EU flag sewn into it, which he proudly wore around his shoulders. It’s fun how he is such a huge super star and then he becomes all shy and embarrassed. Or he just… crashes.

Yoshiki with the Union Jack flag, Royal Albert Hall

After the concert was over, we said goodbye to A**i and, A****d and I made our way to the 1871 Bar, where the Post Show Meet & Greet Experience was to take place. We went to one of the doors, but of course then we needed to go to the other one. Eventually we got in, and rather quickly – I was the 20th person in the queue, and got to wait inside the bar. It was upholstered in blue, turquoise and green tones, with the most garish decoration I’ve seen in my life, including mirrors, golden wallpaper, bright plastic deer heads (better than real ones but still gaudy), lava lamps… There were about… four or five sofas, and the whole floor was carpeted in reddish and green / grey tones.

I was a bit nervous – waiting to meet an artist is actually the worst moment of queueing, I feel. To be honest, the first time I saw Yoshiki in person in 2017, my brain went 404 on me and I was not able to utter a word, though in Vienna I did a bit better and got a selfie. I was shaking so badly it came out horrible and moved.

As we were waiting, a staff member came to tell us that we could talk to Yoshiki a little, and that they would take our pictures with him and email the link to us. He explained that Yoshiki had just played a three-hour show and that he was bound to be tired – and how amazing he was. We smirked that we knew that already – most of us were not local, after all. Meanwhile, lights were set up, and signed posters brought out.

Yoshiki arriving for the M&G in the 1871 Bar at the Royal Albert Hall

Once he came in, we clapped and then everything went very fast and very slow at the same time. Everyone got to talk to him a little indeed, ask for an autograph or give him a present. Some people conjure amazing gifts for artists, but I never bring anything for them, because I feel it’s imposing and they don’t need any junk I could get them. However, I was clutching my bad selfie print-out, running through my head what to say. It was finally my turn, and then something I could have never prepared for happened – he declared that he was tired and just sat down on the floor. Not one of sofas. Yoshiki, superstar, just plopped down on the garish carpet of the bar at the Royal Albert Hall.

I have no idea how or why but my brain kicked into gear at that point. Before the staff could react in any way, I asked Yoshiki if it was all right to sit down on the carpet with him – I really did not know if he wanted to have his picture taken on the floor. I’m not sure if the staff and the aides knew what to do, but when he said it was all right, I approached and sat – A****d had stayed behind and was able to document the whole thing, apparently I sat in the proper traditional Japanese way for the conversation.

I thanked him for his music, and told him how his lyrics helped me feel better after a bad situation. Then I asked him to sign the “horrible selfie” – I actually said this – from Vienna. He thanked me for coming back, and I said “no, thank you for coming back”. The whole thing was absolutely surreal. There we were, sitting on the carpet of the Royal Albert Hall, surrounded by dumbfounded staff and… sofas. Photographer Andy Paradise took our picture, and what I saw when I looked at the camera was the photographer crouching, the video-camera person kneeling, someone else also crouching down, and a fourth person coming in with a chair (despite… sofas). I said thank you again, and dragged myself away – the guy whose turn it was behind me also sat down on the floor.

A****d and I got our signed posters, while I clutched to my now autographed bad Vienna selfie, and left the venue. Some people asked questions on the way out, and we explained how it went. When we came out, it was cold, so damn cold. My hotel was a block over, so I asked reception to order a taxi for A****d, and we parted ways, hoping to see each other soon.

I went up to my room to take my third shower of the day, and have my snack. I was so overwhelmed, it was hard to sleep. It was also stupidly cold because unbeknownst to me, I had not closed the window well, and there was an open crack. I burrowed under the bed covers, a towel and a bathrobe, and got some rest.

The next morning, I made myself a hot instant coffee to start off the day, but it did not do much to get my blood pressure up. I vacated the room around 9:00 after asking the hotel to keep my luggage – but considering what had happened the previous day, I made sure I had all the important things with me. I had a nice plan for the day, but I decided to discard it last minute because underground disruptions had escalated – it was not worth it to get stressed due to commuting issues having alternative things to do. Seeing the first red phone cabin will have to wait for another time.

It was still extremely cold when I stepped out. First, I went to see the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens, and I crossed to Hyde Park. I also found the Monument to Livingstone. I went around the Royal Albert Hall, and a bit before 10:00, I joined the queue to enter the Victoria and Albert Museum. Whenever I am in Kensington, I always get distracted by the Natural History Museum, so I had forfeited the V&A for a while now. Today was the day to finally explore it.

The Albert Memorial

Royal Albert Hall from the outside

Founded in 1852, the V&A is one of the largest museums in the world – it’s actually the largest museum of applied arts, decorative arts and design. It covers 51,000 square metres, with 145 galleries and almost three million individual items in its permanent collection. It is a chaotic museum, and yet, it makes sense. The museum is organised by “themes” such as Buddhism, England Middle Ages, metalwork, porcelain, glass, Baroque sculpture… I tried to see things in some kind of logical order, but it was pretty much impossible. Apparently they tried to rearrange it a while back and they just… gave up, as it would diffuse expert knowledge. I found this very interesting, but since this was my plan B, I did not really have time to plan the visit very thoroughly.

Before diving into the galleries, I headed over to the museum café for a gigantic tea-infused scone with jam and proper clotted cream, and a mug of coffee, and sat down at the Gamble Room. When it opened in 1868, it was the first museum café in the world. It is decorated with tiles imitating the Italian Renaissance majolica tiles, columns, golden ceilings, and weirdly modern lamps. After breakfast, I felt a bit more grounded, though I felt a bit off all day.

Scone and coffee at the Gambler Room in the V&A museum

I roamed around the museum for a few hours, and I know that I missed some important areas. I found it difficult to keep track of where I was and where I wanted to go, but I got a bit of a taste of all. I was very impressed by the Cast Courts, where copies of some of the most iconic pieces of architecture and sculpture are kept. These were made in the 19th century, and represent “the truest spirit of the Victorian museum.”

Artefacts at the Victoria and Albert Museum

On the ground floor, I wandered the Korea, Japan, China and Buddhism galleries, and I came across another depiction of Bodhisattva Guanyin, in the same pose but a completely different artistic style. I saw the largest Middle East and Islamic Art collection in Europe, and the adjacent galleries –South Asia (especially India) and South East Asia had a lot of interesting artefacts, too. The sculpture galleries are tantalising.

Other areas I visited included Medieval and Renaissance, Britain though history, ironwork, metalware, gold, silver, ceramics, glassware, jewellery, stained glass, architecture, and I could have gone on and on. But alas, I had a plane to catch.

Artefacts at the Victoria and Albert Museum

Victoria & Albert Museum

Around 13:00, I left the museum, collected my luggage, and made my way to South Kensington Station amidst the Tube closures of the lines that would take me directly to Victoria. A while back, I had to take a similar alternative route from Earl’s Court due to the wires overheating when I was going to the Apollo Victoria Theatre to watch Wicked. The South Kensington station runs the same Tube lines, so I was able to reach Victoria railroad station at the desired time – even with a line change and more than double stops. I was off towards Gatwick airport on the expected train.

Once there, I went through security without a hitch. I had a snack in the most expensive and unfriendly Wagamama in history – give me Stansted’s Itsu anytime. I wanted something warm because my body gets weird after emotional highs, and I was freezing. I even wondered if I was taking ill again, but no. I was just cold. I did not let either the restaurant nor the chill spoil my mood though, and I might even have had a nap on the plane. By the time I got off, I had warmed up. I cleared passport control, found my shuttle to the parking lot and – aside from the inevitable idiot on the road – there was not even that much traffic, which is good. You know the routine – shower, snack, bed.

I was not ill in the end, just stupidly exhausted. Going back to normal was quite difficult, especially as I still had Sunday free. I did not ever dare look at my phone to see if the photographs were real. A few days later, on the 18th, we received the email with the meet & greet professional photos. I look ridiculously happy, sitting on the carpet ,with a sofa behind me, with who is probably my favourite artist. I feel a bit guilty that I burdened him with my problems – I really hope he forgot quickly. Nevertheless, I am mostly glad that I was able to take these three crazy trips to London without incident. I feel extremely lucky that all three of them worked out, if not flawlessly, without any huge mishap. There is actually another Yoshiki event announced for December, but as much as I would love to go, it is just not in the budget, and I am a bit sad about that. But then I think “I sat with Yoshiki on the carpet of the Royal Albert Hall” and smile.

1st October 2023: The City and North Greenwich {Miyavi in London 2023}

As I was going to drive myself to the airport, I had a parking reservation at 5:00 for my 7:00 flight – you have to love those wee hours of the morning wake-up calls. I reached the airport around 4:55, just as the shuttle was leaving. I didn’t worry too much because there were people at the bus stop though. I found a nice parking spot under cover, but did not see the number on top, so I tried to memorise where I had parked. The shuttle arrived again around 5:25. Security was not a problem, but then I was sent to the automatic passport control, which did not work, and I had to go through manual control. The plane took off and landed on time, and despite the strike warning, the Stansted Express was only delayed 10 or 15 minutes, so I reached London a little after 9:30 – much earlier than I had expected.

Since I had time – for once – I decided to hang around London Liverpool station, where the Stansted Express terminates. Though I’ve always liked this building, which is actually listed for its historical importance, it is “just” a train station – I somehow have never had the time to explore as I seem to always be in transit. Construction was decided in the early 19th century, and development of the project displaced around 10,000 residents. The station was designed by engineer Edward Wilson, in a Gothic-inspired style in brick and bath stone. He added a trainshed in wrought iron and glass which was restored and expanded in 1894. The Victorian station survived the Blitz, a subsequent renovation in 1975, and it’ll hopefully will make it through the refurbishing proposed in 2022. I went around the station once, and then moved on – they had not cleaned the windows though.

Liverpool street station trainshed ironwork

Well, I went to have a vanilla latte at Costa Coffee, because I love that blasted beverage. I then decided to kill some time around the City of London. I went to Aldgate Square, home to the Church of Saint Botol, a school, and a very fun fountain with lights.

I found The Gherkin and Saint Helen’s Church, which I wanted to visit, but unfortunately they were about to start a service, so in the end I did not go in – I find interrupting religious acts disrespectful, and this was one of those “we welcome you at the door” community services… It would have made it awkward. I realised I had not wandered around The City for a long time (since… 2011), so I checked out some interesting buildings, such as Saint Michael’s Church or The Counting House or the Shanghai Commercial Bank.

There was a modern-art exhibit going on in the area, but the only work that drew my attention ended up not being even a piece of art. I walked by Leadenhall Market, which was sporting… purple tentacles. It turns out that since 2021 the area has “dressed up” for Hallowe’en! I was not expecting that… Though I have to admit, it’s a fun idea.

Leadenhall market and the purple tentacles

I went towards Bank station, which hosts Mansion House, where the Mayor of London lives, the Royal Bank of Scotland and the Equestrian statue of the Duke of Wellington. I finally reached London’s Guildhall, the old town hall still used for ceremonies and so. It was built between 1410 and 1440, though only part of it remains today. It was damaged in the Great Fire of London, and the façade that can be seen today was added in 1788 in the neo-Gothic style. I did not expect anything to be open, but the Guildhall Art Gallery was. I had less than an hour to my timed ticket somewhere else, so I decided not to go in.

The main façade of the old Guildhall building

Instead, I walked towards River Thames, passing by Saint Stephen Walbrook church, 1 Queen Victoria building and No 1 Poultry. I reached Walbrook Wharf and the Thames Path / Riverside Walk, including Fruiterers Passage and Millennium Bridge.

Thames Walk in London

At noon, I had a ticket to London Mithraeum Bloomberg Space. The Roman ruins of a Mithraic temple were found in London. The cult of Mithras flourished throughout the Roman Empire between the 1st and 4th centuries CE. It “recycled” the the Persian god of the sun and justice into the patron of loyalty to the emperor. Mithras is usually representing slaying a bull (tauroctony), though archaeologists are not really sure why. The London temple was discovered in 1952 in a construction area, transported off-site, then brought back to its original position in 2010. Today, it lies in an underground ward in the European HQ of the Bloomerg company. When I connected to the Wi-Fi to read up on the items on display, I received an email that my car had not been detected at the parking lot – and for a second I worried that I had parked in the wrong place, but I knew I had not.

The visit consists on a glass case display with several objects from the Roman era, including sandals, jewels, glassware, even a cabinet. Then there is an audiovisual show that does not make much sense since everybody is walking around wondering what is going on. Finally, you are admitted into the temple, which yields to an “immersive experience”, with a projection of lights and shadows and a few chants in Latin. When the lights go out, you finally get to see the temple. The remains are barely a few foundational stones and a little of the altar. Apparently the actual Mithras sculpture was also dug up, but it is in the Museum of London, closed until 2026. To be honest, it was a bit underwhelming, but after all, I’ve recently done an Italy trip, so I might be hard to impress in that sense at the moment.

London Mithraeum temple and artefacts

I headed to the hotel, but I decided to make a stop at Leicester Square to find two of the Scenes in the Park I had missed last time. I might have also dropped by The LEGO Store Leicester Square because I discovered that there is a Lego Stamp Rally. Of course, I needed to get myself a Lego passport to try and get some stamps. I thought about buying a mug from the M&M’s store, but I decided that I did not want to be carrying it around, and I would get it on my last day if I had the time.

Batman and Laurel & Hardy from LEicester Square Scenes in The park, and a Lego passport

I took the underground to Paddington Station and I stumbled onto the bronze sculpture Wild Table of Love by public art creators Gillie and Marc. Their characters, Rabbitwoman and Dogman, have invited several endangered animals to their table – giraffe, elephant, tiger, koala, chimpanzee, zebra, gorilla, rhino and lion – and there are two free spaces for onlookers to sit and become part of the banquet.

The Wild Table of Love sculpture

I went to my hotel and took a short break before I set off to catch the Jubilee line towards the Greenwich Peninsula in south-east London. I had been there to attend a L’Arc~en~Ciel concert in the O2 Arena a lifetime ago, and I was surprised how much the area had developed. This time over, I was not going to an event but to the building itself, the Millennium Dome, one of the largest structures of its kind in the world. The exterior of the Dome is a huge tent-like construction that pays tribute to the concept of “time” in its design – 365 metres in diameter (for the year’s days), 52 metres high at its highest point (the weeks) and twelve support towers (the months). It was originally built as an exhibition centre to host a number of shows and activities throughout the year 2000. Eventually, the inner structure was built. Today it has the arena and a smaller concert venue for events and concerts, there is a shopping centre and it offers dozens of activities…

One of the experiences that can be carried out is Up at the O2, which takes you on the marquee to the top of the dome and then back again. You are not allowed any bag or rucksack of any kind, and you can only “carry your phone in a jacket zipped jacket pocket”. I cheated and took my wallet in the other pocket. They have shoes to let, vests and jackets if you are not dressed appropriately. You have to sign a waiver and provide an emergency contact

As instructed, I was there fifteen minutes before my scheduled time, 17:30. I was offered a spot at the 17:15 climb and I shrugged into it. I was okay with that. First, you watch a “preparation” video that is more of a self-promo. Then, you are given a climbing harness and a tether, and told to never ever ever get your phone out during the climb – probably to avoid having to pick any little device up from the tent structure, or risking getting sued if they decline to do so. The harness is easier to put on than I thought, and it holds your upper legs and your torso. The first few metres are ascended on a plain outside staircase and the rest on a PVC catwalk that has a railing for you to get tethered to. The guide pranced up and down providing mostly funny commentary, but you could only hear him if you were close.

The steepest point at the catwalk has a thirty-degree inclination, but it did not feel extremely demanding. From the upper platform there are some cool views, especially of Greenwich and Canary Wharf, along with the Thames. The views were cool, and something very different from what you get from places in the city like the Sky Garden. I think I was expecting a bit of a further thrill / exertion though, so even if it was fun, I did not get as much from the experience as I thought.

Up the O2 experience

Some staff members take pictures of you that you can buy at the end. You ascend on the front area of the O2 and descend on the rear, so you need to walk all around the inner area to exit – and boy was it crowded with concertgoers (Muse) and dinners. After I walked out, I turned to the side of the O2 Arena where an area called The Tide has been developed. This is a public walkway, sort of an elevated platform with endemic plants sprinkled with public art installation, including The Mermaid by Damien Hirst, or the psychedelic stairs named Poured Staircase by Ian Davenport.

The Tide Greenwhich, showing the Mermaid, the Thames, the Spire and the Melting Staircase

I went back to the underground. I wanted to go to back to Chinatown to try the British version of Curry House CoCo Ichibanya, one of my favourite Japanese chains. Whenever I’ve walked by it around food time, there was a big line. However, when checking online if you can book a table, I discovered that there was another location in Bond Street, which I thought might be less busy. I am not sure it was, or I was lucky with timing, but I did find a spot in that shop within minutes. I was happy to enjoy a hand made chicken katsu curry (手仕込チキンカツカレー), the equivalent to my usual choice in Japan, and be on my way.

London Curry House CoCoICHIBANYA chicken katsu curry

While the hotel bathroom was tiny, it was more than enough for a shower and a change of clothes. Also, despite being so close to the station that one could feel the trains pass by, I slept pretty well until around 7:00.