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…

12th March 2024: A free afternoon – the bullring & Pompeii Exhibition (Madrid, Spain)

Due to life being weird sometimes, I was summoned to a work-related event in Madrid on the morning of the 12th. The event took place in one of the buildings erected by Antonio Palacios, the cultural centre Círculo de Bellas Artes (CBA). The centre hires out its facilities for conventions, gatherings and theatre plays. In our case, we were there for the presentation of a new product in the Column Hall Sala de Columnas on the fourth floor.

Interior of the Círculo de Bellas Artes

After all the necessary chatting, networking, and a disappointing (and rather questionable) choice of canapés, the event was over at 14:30. I ditched my companion then and headed out to Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas, the local bullring. I am not a bullfighting fan – my personal view is that it is not an art, nor a “fair fight” as it is presented, and I hope we humans evolve to phase it out. And while I would not attend an event, I was curious to get to know the building and its architecture.

Las Ventas bullring, outside

The ring is the largest of its kind in Spain. It was designed by José Espelius in the neo-mudéjar style and erected between 1919 and 1931. The central ring is just over 60 m in diameter, with a metallic structure holding the stands around it, and a façade of reddish brick and porcelain tiles. Aside from bullfighting, it is also used for concerts and other events.

I took a self-guided tour with an audio-guide Las Ventas Tour Experience, because I actually know nothing about bullfighting – I learnt that it actually has “rules”, I thought it was just taunting and hurting the bull. The passes have names, and there is a whole colour code of handkerchiefs – I had no idea. The tour takes you past the “Great Gate” through which bullfighters come out through when they are deemed to have done a great job. Then you climb up to the first floor balconies, and you can even go up to the highest point to have a panoramic view. You see the outside of the Royal Box, the gate through which the dead bull is brought out through, and then you walk down to the ring itself. There you can stand in the areas where the bullfighters and their helpers wait, and peer towards the stables, the closed door to the infirmity and finally the chapel. There are two VR experiences too that I did not care for, so instead of the expected 75 minutes, I took a bit less than an hour to do the whole tour.

Inside the bullring of LasVentas

Afterwards, I was curious to check out an immersive exhibition regarding Pompeii called “the last days of Pompeii” Los Últimos Días de Pompeya in the cultural hub Matadero Madrid. It was designed by Madrid Artes Digitales, the same company which organised the Tutankhamun one. At first I was not overly interested in it, but when I went to Recópolis the guide mentioned an actual VR tour, and I became curious (read: it was totally FOMO in the end).

The exhibit has a couple of replicas of archaeological artefacts, but it’s mostly a digital display. The first time I went to the Madrid Artes Digitales building I thought they had rented the place, but now I saw that they might actually own the warehouse and design the exhibits into it. There is a huge room where they project a sort-of film on the walls, a small circuit that you walk doing different activities, and a sitting VR ward, where you get to see a fictional world in 3D.

Of course, there were replicas of the Pompeii casts, and a copy of the novel The Last Days of Pompeii, written by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, which has inspired the exhibit. The novel, in turn, was sparkled by the painting The Last Day of Pompeii. The projection recreated a few passages from the book, then Mount Vesuvius erupted and you were taken “into” the crater, seeing lava bubbling and lightning bolts. Then one was back in the city as the pyroclastic cloud rolled into the city, along with volcanic bombs falling into buildings.

Last Days of Pompeii exhibition

The circuit was a VR walk-through that took you though a house, both in ruins and reconstructed, as a woman led you through it. Walking with the VR glasses was a new experience, I have to admit, but going through doors was strange. Unfortunately, my set had a finger print in one of the lenses which spoiled the view a little. In the final ward, there was a representation of a circus fight with gladiators and tigers that turned into a naumachia (ship games in the amphitheatre) while Mount Vesuvius erupted in the background. All in all, it was a bit weird, and maybe… a tad on the morbid side, if you ask me.

Afterwards I just headed off, and I was lucky to make it into the train, it was so full! The car emptied out enough to sit down after a few stops, but just wow.

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.

23rd February 2024: Zorita de Los Canes & Recópolis (Spain)

Zorita de los Canes is a hamlet at the bank of River Tagus, in the middle of nowhere in the Spanish Central Plateau. It was founded as an Almoravid dynasty fortress (alcazaba), however the stones that erected the castle are much, much older. The fortress was built around the 12th – 13th centuries, and although ruined, it used to be visitable – not at the moment though. The stones to build the castle were quarried from an even older settlement, which today is known as the archaeological site of Recópolis.

During the Middle Ages, Zorita was extremely disputed. After the Moors built the alcazaba, the town was taken over by the Christians, then recovered by the Almoravid dynasty, until it was conquered by Christian king Alfonso VII. The village was entrusted to the Order of Calatrava, the first military order to be founded in the Kingdom of Castile, who were to defend it against the Almohad Caliphate.

I’d been wanting to go to Recópolis for a while, and I found out that the archaeological sites in the area are free until the end of the year, so I thought it would make a nice mini-trip. I booked the ticket a few days in advance as it seemed that the weather would be cold but dry, albeit windy. I thought it could be a good chance before fuel prices go up again.

I had an early lunch and drove off with the idea to get to the archaeological site around quarter to three, as I was booked for three o’clock and the ticket said to arrive ten minutes in advance. The drive was a bit faster than I thought, but the Sat-Nav sent me on a completely different route than Google had, which made me a bit insecure about timings. That’s why, even if I saw a couple of villages that looked interesting, I decided not to stop and explore them, I could do it on my way back. Suddenly, the ruined castle came into view. I pulled over in a safe place to admire it and checked the time – I was good. Thus, I drove into Zorita de Los Canes and stopped at a small parking lot at the entrance of the village. I parked next to the river Tagus Río Tajo, which gave me a couple of nice views.

Castle in Zorita de los Canes, atop a hill

Part of the Medieval wall still stands, and access to hamlet’s core is done through an ancient gate, which I was happy to cross on foot. There was a small church, and at the summit of the peak stands the derelict castle Castillo de Zorita de los Canes. I decided not to climb as I knew it was closed, and after a few minutes, I got back into the car and drove off.

River Tagus and Castle in Zorita de los Canes

All in all, I was in town for about a quarter of an hour, and did not drive for longer than three or four minutes before I parked at the entrance of the archaeological site Parque Arqueológico de Recópolis. The interpretation centre was empty and locked, and I was the only car in the parking lot. The time was around 14:30 at that point and I decided to wander around for a bit, as there was what looked like a hiking trail amongst the fields. I found a nice lookout of the castle, but not the ruins themselves.

Zorita de los Canes from far away

The discovery of Recópolis is credited to Juan Catalina García López in 1893. Juan Cabré Aguiló started the excavation in 1945, and found a “little treasure” (tesorillo) of coins from looting (one of them fake). Of Visigoth origin, it predates the Moorish town by a few centuries. It was erected around the year 578 by king Leovigildo in honour of his son Recaredo, who would go on to become the first of the Christian kings of Spain.

The city followed the byzantine pattern. There were two perpendicular streets, one of which lead to the palatial area, with shops to the side. Recópolis became important enough to mint its own coins, but the crisis of the Visigoth state lead to it conquest by the Moors in the 8th century. The city was slowly abandoned and became a quarry for the nearby settlement of Zorita. Later, in the 11th century, Christian settlers built a church and a small village, which had been abandoned by the 15th century.

The whole archaeological area spreads 30 hectares, out of which eight have been excavated. The interpretation centre has a few replicas of artefacts that have been found – due to security concerns, no originals are kept on site. To be honest, I was not surprised – I could have walked into the site and left without anyone stopping or even seeing me. When I arrived, it was me and the vultures, and I had a bit of a flashback to that time at the cave Cueva de los Casares, and even fantasised a little about being alone to explore the site. The guide arrived on time and opened the centre, and I was still the only one there, which was weird – I know for a fact that there were a bunch of reservations for 15:00, but only I showed up. Maybe the others became discouraged because of the weather?

The nice tour guide suggested waiting for a few minutes to give time for others to arrive, and offered me the VR experience. I accepted, of course – I’m not going to turn down such a thing. It was really fun, because you could pick up objects as the local goddess and a little child showed you around a reconstruction of the town, the palace and a glass workshop.

Afterwards, we headed off towards the ruins – nobody else had shown up. The guide offered to let me stay after the tour to take all my pictures so I decided to just listen to him as he explained and pointed to some very interesting details – a bit giddy inside. Would I really be alone eventually? He showed me the church, the palace and the grain silos in the ground, where grain was stored. He also took me to the palace and pointed out the main streets, and taught me how to differentiate the Moorish construction (criss-crossed materials) from the original Visigoth one (parallel architectural stones).

We also chatted a little and I mentioned I hoped it did not rain – he said that it had been threatening rain all week, but it would be all right. I eyed the black cloud approaching and hoped he was right.

Spoiler alert: he was not.

After finishing the guided visit, I was left alone indeed. I went around the main area of the archaeological site, and when I was in the church, the storm broke out. I had an umbrella, but I still got drenched. Interestingly though, even if it was raining and windy, it was suddenly not as cold as before. However, I had to give up eventually, since taking pictures was too difficult. As I decided to return to the visitor centre, the cloud finally moved through, and rain slowed down. I was heading down the hill towards the visitors’ centre when it finally cleared completely. I stopped, wondering whether to leave or come back, and when I looked up I saw a rainbow, sprouting right out of the castle. There were even vultures flying against the retreating cloud. It was really cool.

Rainbow hitting the castle, and a vulture flying

I felt motivated again, so I went back to the ruins of the city to take a few more pictures – after all, it was really cool to be all alone in the archaeological site. I wandered among the houses where it was allowed, and went to the edge of the site to take it all in, then I walked back. As I was in the middle of the street, a griffon vulture circled me a couple of times, maybe wondering if I was food – I think staying where I was taking pictures did not help? It eventually left, and I headed back to the centre, where I arrived just in time to watch the little video documentary about the Visigoth town.

Ruins of Recópolis

Recopolis ruins

Griffon vulture mid-flight

I left afterwards, and I got caught in the storm again – thus I did not stop in any village on the way. The first half of the drive was miserable in the rain, but then it cleared out, and the rest of it was all right. Fortunately, I did not run into too many other cars either. I got home around sunset and went to bed early since I had to wake up early the following day.

Nevertheless, now I’ve got a VIP (VOP? Very only person?) experience, alone in an archaeological site, which is added value to the whole thing and I loved every second of it, even with the rain.

3rd February 2024: The Botarga Parade (Guadalajara, Spain)

There is no reason to doubt the folk / pre-Christian origins of Carnival (Shrovetide). Scholars trace it back to Greek Anthesteria to honour Dyonisius and the Roman Saturnalia – Romans liked adapting everything from everyone after all, especially if a party could be had. It might even be related to Imbolc, an ancient Irish festival celebrated halfway between Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox (similar to how Hallowe’en is the night between Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice). In the European Middle Ages, it was around this time when people consumed all the meat they had from the winter slaughter before it went bad – and then they would have no “good” food for a while. This eventually led to the idea of fasting during Lent, when the Christian church decided to hijack the celebrations.

A lot of what we consider “Carnival” today can be traced back to Medieval Italy – it started the masquerade balls, dressing up, and the carnal parades. The most important event was the Carnival of Venice. From there, it spread into Europe and with the Spanish and Portuguese empires to the Caribbean and Latin America.

Going back to its origins, it seems clear that the celebrations were rooted in nature, especially the coming of spring. Just as Hallowe’en marks the beginning of winter, it is around Imbolc (Christians call it Candlemas, and celebrate it on the 2nd of February) that you start really noticing that the days have grown longer. They are about an hour longer than on the Winter Solstice – at Stonehenge, one of the most natural / mystical points in the world, sunset on the 2nd of February 2024 was at 16:59, while on the Winter Solstice it was 16:02. Like Hallowe’en brings out spirits and monsters, Inbolc starts conjuring spring and nature-related folklore “creatures”.

Looking at Europe, there seem to be a lot of analogous characters in Carnival traditions. The German characters Hooriger Bär (hairy bear) and Strohbär (straw bear) wear a… camouflage / leaves suit covering all its body which looks eerily similar to the English Whittlesea, the Polish niedźwiedź zapustny, the Italian Hermit (tree-man), or even the Slovenian Korant. When one looks at the Korant, it can be seen the “leaves” are actually fur (sheepskin to be precise), which would make it in turn similar to the Hungarian busós, horned and more animal-like. All these appear to represent a connection to nature, only enhanced by the German Hopfennarr, which looks like one would draw a spirit of spring. It would be easy to draw the conclusion that all these characters are indeed related to the advent of spring – both for plants and animals.

As Italy (and especially Venice) made carnival a thing in Medieval Europe, they “exported” the concept of costumes “done right” and “proper” masks. This influenced older characters, giving them a more similar look to the archetypes in the Commedia dell’arte, with colourful clothes and expressive masks. These are more generic, masked, characters as those found in Venice, though in this city every character has its own name and story.

Some of these characters – both newer masked and older nature-linked characters – seem to have their representatives in the current Spanish Carnival folklore. They seem to have been especially important in the centre of the country, more dependent on agriculture and nature cycles than those areas close to the sea. They were popular in the past, and switched from the pagan festival to the Christian one. They were stifled during Franco’s Dictatorship (with the ban on Carnival), and have been recently re-popularised by folklore enthusiast – some of them have been “rescheduled” to more touristic times than around Carnival. It is considered that the origin of these characters lies in fertility rituals and symbols – such as the orange – and dances from pre-Roman Spain, with some authors daring to call them Neolithic.

I attended a parade in Guadalajara which gathered these characters from the town and several other villages in the province. The main and more general name of the characters in this area is botarga. However, there are different characters according to what they look like: botargas, vaquillones, diablos, mascaritas, chocolateros, danzantes, and mascarones. These characters and their recovered traditions were declared Intangible Cultural Asset in 2022. The parade was a big day when most of the characters in the region came together. The parade used to take place on a Thursday before, and it was changed to the Saturday before Carnival so more people could enjoy it.

The term botarga derives from the Italian bottarga, which refers to colourful clothes related to Medieval performances and the Commedia dell’arte (aside from fish roe). The original clothes seem to have taken their name from the 16th-century actor Stefanello Bottarga, who used to wear wide pants, and play one of the archetypical characters, the vecchi (old geezers or masters). Under the name “botarga”, the province has recovered (or reinvented) a few traditions, and up to 36 single characters and groups walked the parade in Guadalajara.

The proper botarga is a usually single character, who wears a mask and garish clothes in bright colours. The masks can be made of many materials, some of them even esparto. The botarga usually carries some kind of staff, and it chases the onlookers, and sometimes pokes them for luck or fertility. Vaquillas (heiferettes) and vaquillones (literally, big male heiferettes) are characters which cover their faces with sackcloth or a similar material; they carry horns, and often cowbells; they represent cattle and are sometimes accompanied by “shepherds” (with staffs – there is a pattern there). The danzantes are dancers, and Diablos means Devils, pretty self-explanatory – some of the latter also wear horns, and a few are covered in black soot, and enjoy “dirtying” the onlookers. Mascaritas and Mascarones both derive from the word mask, and could be translated as “small masks” and “big masks”; the mascaritas are the most common character, usually women in traditional clothes covering their faces with plain white masks.. Finally, the chocolateros or chocolatiers offer the treat (which they… carry in a chamberpot) to whomever they meet – and if they are declined, they use it to “attack” their victim.

There is actually a project called The Botarga Route, with a calendar so one can see each botarga in the original village. Most come out between New Year’s Day and the end of February, but some have been “moved” to the main day of the summer festivals. The great thing about the parade I attended in Guadalajara was that it concentrated a lot of the region’s botargas and further characters, and one “guest” from another region – it was the Desfile de Botargas, Vaquillones, Diablos, Mascaritas, Chocolateros, Danzantes y Mascarones de la Provincia de Guadalajara.

Characters posing in front of Espacio TYCE Guadalajara

The host botarga, Botarga from Guadalajara (Botarga de Guadalajara) is a team of four. They chase teens and and lightly hit them when they catch them. They play a traditional Carnival game similar to bobbing-for-apples, alhiguí. A dry fig is hung from a sort-of fishing pole, and onlookers can try and catch the fruit – the trick is that one has to use their mouth, not their hands hands. Meanwhile the botargas sing “tothefig, tothefig, not with the hands, yes with the mouth” (alhiguí, alhiguí, con las manos, no, con la boca, sí). Originally, there was only one character that came out on the 17th of January and played alhiguí with the children around the church of Santiago – El Manda (the Order-giver). Later, two more were added – Los Mandaneros (the Order-receivers), and since the custom was recovered in 1998, a new character, Botarguilla (Little Botarga) carries the basket with the figs.

First, all the characters met at Espacio TYCE, then they marched down to the Main Square in front of the town hall Plaza Mayor for the Carnival opening speech, and back.

The host botarga opened the parade. Music was provided by three teams of musicians: Grupo Dulzaineros from Guadalajara, Dulzaineros Pico del Lobo (their main instrument being the dulzaina, an instrument similar to an oboe) and Gaiteros from Villaflores (pipers). Although the parade did not take long to devolve into a lot of chaotic fun, it was organised in three bodies – single botargas, couple botargas, and teams. The signs reading “individual”, “couples” and “teams” were carried by characters wearing full-body costumes that made them look like walking grass-made men. Since I know the town a little, could I watched the parade from three spots, short-cutting from the TYCE area to the square Plaza de Bejanque , and then to Main Street Calle Mayor. Then I walked along towards Plaza Mayor Main Square, where the botargas one by one, or group by group, came on stage as the character was explained.

Botargas de Guadalajara

Aside from the music, there was a very distinctive sound – a lot of the botargas carry cowbells on their belts. The local botargas that participated in the parade are (in alphabetical order of the village they come from, and how they were called onto the stage):

  • Botarga de Alarilla: Botarga from Alarilla. It comes out on the 1st of January to greet the new year and send the evil spirits away. When it is not scaring little kids or getting frisky with the single ladies, it gives out little satchels of nuts.
  • Botarga de Aleas: Botarga from Aleas. The character used to come out on the 3rd of January, now it comes out on the 15th of August, for the village’s festival. The botarga and a number of dancers go around asking for money and food – especially sweets and wine.
  • Botargas y Mascaritas de Almiruete: Botargas and Little Masks from Almiruete. They come out on Shrove Saturday. The botargas throw straw and the mascaritas confetti. There are three other characters – the bear, its trainer, and the heiferette.
  • Botarga de Cabanillas del Campo: Botarga from Cabanillas del Campo. The two characters come out on the 3rd of February, sounding bells and cowbells to bother people and summon spring.
  • Chocolateros de Cogolludo: Chocolatiers from Cogolludo. They come out on Ash Wednesday to tempt people to break the religious fast. They carry a chamberpot with creamy chocolate, and sponge cakes dipped in it. If they don’t manage to tempt the onlookers, they smear the chocolate on their faces.
  • Botarga de Fuencemillán: Botarga from Fuencemillán. On the closest Saturday to the 25th of January, it dances in front of the image of Saint Peter, and chases people to get rid of the bad spirits.
  • Vaquillas de Grajanejos: Vaquillas from Grajanejos. They look more like shepherds and farmers than actual cattle.
  • Botarga de Hita: Botarga from Hita. Though today the two characters come out during the town’s Medieval festival in July, they are clearly Carnival characters. They represent the struggles of personified Carnival and Lent – though they dress so similarly, I could not tell who’s who.
  • Botarga de Humanes: Botarga from Humanes. It comes out on the 1st of January and knocks on doors to wish a happy new year. It wears a colourful costume with 31 tinker bells and seven bells. It blocks entry to the church unless it is given a coin.
  • Diablo y Vaquillas de Luzaga: Devil and Heiferettes from Luzaga. Nowadays, they come out on Shrove Saturday. The heiferettes wear red capes, a mask of sackcloths, a hat, and carry bull horns. They toll the cowbells and chase the onlookers. The devil throws straw to symbolise riches and fertility.
  • Diablos y Mascaritas de Luzón: Devils and Little Masks from Luzón. The devils carry horns on their heads and cowbells on their waists. They paint their body black and use a piece of potato to feign huge teeth. They “attack” onlookers with a mixture of ash and oil. They are accompanied by the Little Masks, who are safe from their actions, wearing the typical clothing of the area and white face coverings. They come out on Shrove Saturday.
  • Botarga de Majaelrayo: Botarga from Majaelrayo. This is one of the characters that comes out “off season”, on the first weekend of September, though the original festival was the third Sunday of January. It is one of the few (if not the only) unmasked ones, and it leads traditional dancing on Sunday.
  • Botarga de Casados de Málaga del Fresno: Botarga of Married Couples from Málaga del Fresno. The original botarga came out on the first of January. It stopped for a while and when the tradition was picked up, the festival moved to the 24th of January, and two more masked characters, the mojigangas were added. The botarga carries a staff and a bag of candy and chases people who go and come out from mass.
  • Botarga de Mazuecos: Botarga from Mazuecos. On the 23rd of January, they chase the young and hit them with their poles.
  • Vaquillas de Membrillera: Heiferettes from Membrillera. They wear two tunics in different colours, a collar of bells, and horns on their waists. They come out on Shrove Saturday to chase the youth.
  • Botarga de Mohernando: Botarga from Mohernando. This duo of botarga and buffoon come out on the closest Sunday to the 20th of January. Though they participate on the religious activities in a serious fashion, they chase kids and teens, and play pranks.
  • Botarga de Montarrón: Botarga from Montarrón. It comes out around the 20th of January, and panhandles through the village for food and drink that is later consumed by the inhabitants. It is one of the few botargas to attend mass, leaving its bells and mask outside.
  • Botarga de Muduex: Botarga from Muduex. This botarga has just been recovered, so it is writing its own tradition. It will come out on the local festival in July.
  • Botarga de Peñalver: Botarga from Peñalver. It chases young men and if it caches them, it will ask them a question, and only let them go if it likes the answer. It comes out the first Sunday after the 3rd of February.
  • Botarga de Puebla de Beleña: Botarga from Puebla de Beleña. This horned character takes part in the religious ceremonies to honour Saint Blaise (3rd of January) and chases people to hit them with its staff. He also knocks on doors and makes its cowbells toll to call people to mass.
  • Botarga de Razbona: Botarga from Razbona. Considered a symbol of prosperity and fertility, it comes out on the closest Saturday to the 25th of January. It picks up donations for charity and cultural acts. It used to attack people who did not cooperate with ash, now it gives out candy for those who donate. However, as it is regarded as a pagan character, it won’t step into the church.
  • Botarga de Retiendas: Botarga from Retiendas. It comes out on the closest Sunday to Candlemas. It dances and chases people to the beat of a drum, and takes part in the religious ceremonies.
  • Vaquilla de Riba de Saelices: Heiferette from Riba de Saelices. It comes out on Carnival Saturday (though originally it was Shrove Tuesday), charging people and getting mock-stabbed in return.
  • Vaquilla de Ribarredonda: Heiferette from Ribarredonda. The heiferette comes out on Shrove Sunday, tolling its cowbells. In the village, shepherds who cover their faces with sackcloth masks keep it in check with their staffs – the person playing the heiferette wears a helmet for protection.
  • Botarga de Casados de Robledillo de Mohernando: Botarga of Married Couples from Robledillo de Mohernando. It comes out on the 1st of January and enters the houses to wish a happy new year and wake people up with tolls and chimes from the bells it carries.
  • Botarga Infantil de Robledillo de Mohernando: Child Botarga from Robledillo de Mohernando. The only child group in the area, they come out on the closest Sunday to the 24th of January. There is a child botarga, musicians and basket-carriers. They don’t wear masks and they perform traditional dances.
  • Vaquillones de Robledillo de Mohernando: Big-Male-Usherettes from Robledillo de Mohernando. Completely clad in sackcloths and carrying horns and cowbells, they charge the onlookers on Shrove Saturday.
  • Botarga de Romanones: Botarga from Romanones. They come out on the last Saturday before Carnival (which was technically the day of the parade so… not sure when). The Little Masks throw confetti or flour at the ladies. They are accompanied by a shepherd and a bull – the bull is “fought and killed” a few times, as it can come back to life with a sip of “magic wine”.
  • Botarga de Salmerón: Botarga from Salmerón. A group of Little Masks comes out on Shrove Saturday. They throw confetti as a fertility charm. A botarga, Tío Alhiguí (Uncle Tothefig) comes with them to play the game with children.
  • Botarga de Taracena: Botarga from Taracena. It comes out on the 23rd of January. Alongside musicians, it walks through the town streets, chasing people towards the church.
  • Botarga de Tórtola de Henares: Botarga from Tórtola de Henares. It comes out in the morning of Christmas Eve, knocking on doors for food. It also comes out on the 6th of January and, along the Little Masks, during Carnival.
  • Botarga y Danzantes del Santo Niño de Valdenuño Fernández: Botarga and Danzantes of the Holy Child from Valdenuño Fernández. They come out the first Sunday after the 6th of January. There are records that a child got lost in 1721 everyone in the village looked for him. The botarga and the dancers recreate this event, and dance in exchange of oranges. One of the dances, the paloteo, involves the group of eight dancers clashing batons with each other.
  • Botarga de Valdesaz: Botargas from Valdesaz. This group chases each other and onlookers on Shrove Saturday.
  • Vaquillones de Villares de Jadraque: Big-Male-Usherettes from Villares de Jadraque. They come out on Shrove Saturday, wearing orange capes, horns and a hat, chasing anyone they come across.
  • Botarga de Villaseca de Uceda: Botarga from Villaseca de Uceda. Recovered in 2023, this botarga comes out the first Saturday after the Epiphany. Its design is modern, and it has mane-looking hair.
  • Botarga de Yélamos de Abajo: Botarga from Yélamos de Abajo. It is the only botarga that comes out during Holy Week (Easter) – but it actually looks a bit like a devil. On Spy Wednesday, villagers light a bonfire in front of the church, and summon the botarga with rattles. The botarga uses the bonfire to light its broom, and dances until the broom goes out. On Holy Thursday the botarga is summoned again, and asks for money. The money-giver says a prayer, the botarga kneels and a coin is inserted in the money-box hidden in the botarga’s hump. On Black Saturday, a dummy botarga is burnt in the bonfire.

Botargas from different villages

Vaquillones de Villares de Jadraque

Furthermore, the four botargas from Guadalajara walked (and ran) after the kids and teenagers at the head of the parade. The Mascarones (Big Masks) from Guadalajara – a cultural association which has worked really hard on the recovery of the botargas – were clad in colourful rags – a lot of them were accompanied by their kids and toddlers in marching suits, with the children handing out candy to both enthusiastic and terrified onlooking kids. The botarga from Muduex, just recovered, received a lot of attention. The kids who were part of the parade often went to give child onlookers candy.

Every year there is a “guest botarga” in the parade. In 2024, the guests are the Hamarrachos de Navalacruz, a group of very druidic-like characters, preceded by their very own flagpole. Navalacruz is a village in the Ávila region, and they have a whole party of creatures – three types: the ones covered in oak leaves, the ones covered in a hay sack, and the ones covered in fur. They seem to represent ancient winter spirits (big Hogfather vibes).

Hamarrachos de Navalcruz Characters

Funnily enough, I was “attacked” three times – twice by the Devils from Luzón Diablos de Luzón. They paint their bodies black and carry cowbells on their belts, horns on their heads and big teeth made from potatoes – they painted my forehead and jawline black in two different occasions. Another time, one of the Vaquillones from Robledillo de Mohernando Vaquillones de Robledillo de Mohernando mock-charged at me. I startled and he was mortified. But it was all good. Oh, and at some other point one of the Mascaritas dumped a handful of confetti on me – I had found a great spot to take pictures: right in front of a potted plant on main street. I was not in the way, since they had to ditch the plant, but I could take pictures of the characters up front.

Botargaas Parade, different characters

Once the parade made it to Main Square, they were called by groups onto the stage. The child botarga did a little dance to show off their skills. The most impressive moment on that stage came with the exhibition of the Dancers of the Holy Child Danzantes del Santo Niño de Valdenuño Fernández. They carry batons that they use when they dance, slamming them against the batons that others carry in a very impressive display of coordination.

Botargas on the stage

Danzantes del Santo Niño clashing batons

The speech of the major had nothing of interest, just the usual political stuff. Mementos were handed to the recovered botarga, and the guests, and then came the Proclamation to open up the Carnival period. The speaker was someone I’ve never heard of – Pepe Sanz, president of a local Vespa and Lambretta motorbikes club. I think.

Unfortunately, as I had been following the parade, I had a horrible spot in Main Square, I could not see the stage at all – but I could use my phone above my head for pictures and videos, while the people in front of me blocked the barriers and played with their phones. I can’t even. After all the speeches, welcoming the Carnival and so on, all the botargas and characters headed back to where came from. I did not stay for the backtracking, because it was cold and it was time to get back home.

13th January 2024: Commemoration of Ricardo Velázquez Bosco in Guadalajara (Spain)

In general, I’m not a fan of guided visits, but I’ve learnt to accept that they are sometimes the only way to get access to several monuments. Thus, I signed up for the free* “themed visit” about Ricardo Velázquez Bosco in Guadalajara. The route was organised by the town hall to commemorate the centennial of the architect’s death in 1923 (I know it’s 2024, the activities started in 2023, but they spread through January).

Velázquez Bosco is considered one of the most important architects in the Spanish late-1800s – early-1900s. Among his works are the Spanish Crystal Palace and the Madrid mining school. His style has been called “emphatic eclecticism” and described as eclectic historicism with academicist tendencies – which basically means that he did not like Modernism, and preferred combining historical styles instead.

In Guadalajara, he worked for the most important noblewoman of the period – the Duchess of Sevillano and Countess of La Vega del Pozo, María Diega Desmaissières y Sevillano (Duquesa de Sevillano y Condesa de la Vega del Pozo). The Duchess lived in Madrid, but was connected to Guadalajara through her aunt, Catholic Saint Maria Micaela, founder of the nun order known as Handmaids of the Blessed Sacrament. The Duchess of Sevillano (known in town as “the countess”) had a lot of buildings erected in Guadalajara and around it, most of which are now private property and have a very-limited-to-inexistent visit regime. The town loved its countess since she commissioned (also to Velázquez Bosco) the farming hamlet Poblado de Villaflores – the construction and subsequent agriculture and livestock activities created a lot of work in the area.

To honour her aunt’s charity work, the Duchess ordered Velázquez Bosco to build a school and an asylum, and though she never really lived in Guadalajara, she commissioned him to build her a palace when her Madrid home was expropriated. She never got to live there, as her heart failed in Bordeaux at the age of 64. She was buried in Guadalajara, in a pantheon that she had also ordered the architect to erect for her.

Today, both the asylum and the palace are schools, and cannot really be visited. The pantheon is privately managed by a private foundation Fundación San Diego de Alcalá, which also manages one of the schools, the adjacent gardens, and the church of the former convent.

The first stop of the visit was the pantheon Panteón de la Duquesa de Sevillano. It is a small eclectic building, the inside is a Latin cross, the outside is a homage to the First Romanesque buildings, with neo-Gothic ornamentation. The characteristic purple dome and the interior mosaics are of Byzantine influence. The crypt is a false one, as the pantheon is reached by climbing up a monumental staircase, so when you “go down” to the crypt, you are actually at ground level. The Duchess’ sepulchre, carved in marble by modernist sculpture Ángel García Díaz, represents the funeral procession. We had to pay 1 € in order to visit the pantheon, as there was no agreement between the town hall and the foundation.

Ducchess of Sevillano's pantheon

Ducchess of Sevillano's Pantheon

We then were taken to another of the foundation’s buildings, the school Colegio Niña María Adoratrices. Today is a semi-private Catholic centre run by nuns from the congregation founded by Saint Maria Micaela. The school cannot generally be visited, so I was glad this worked out. The school building was erected in red brick, with a white limestone façade echoing the Renaissance building of the University in Alcalá de Henares. The school used to be a convent, and there is a restricted cloister. Legend has it that the cloister is only open for wedding photographies to brides who studied at the school. It is square, with two stories of neo-Romanesque arches and columns with vegetal decoration. We were also shown the chapel, with neo-Mudéjar panelling on the ceiling, and the monumental staircase.

Adoratrices School Guadalajara: Façade and cloister

Adoratrices School Guadalajara

Finally, we walked to what was built as the Duchess’ palace in Guadalajara, Palacio de la Condesa de la Vega del Pozo, today another school, Colegio de los Hermanos Maristas, also Catholic and semi-private, and extremely difficult to visit. We were shown inside and got to see the actual outline of the palace. Inside, we saw the panelling and the ceramic decoration before we reached the inner patio, a mix between Castilian and Andalusian styles.

We then visited the smoking room upstairs, an astonishing ward with ceramic tiles decoration and wooden floors. As a last snoop, we could peek into the balcony, which keeps the original cement-tile (baldosa hidráulica) floor. It was extremely impressive – and one can forgive the horrible pale yellow exterior the palace has been painted. Ricardo Velázquez Bosco was one of architect Antonio Palacios’ teacher, and I had the feeling that Palacios took his ideas for the Fundación San Diego de Alcalá, Panteón de la Duquesa de Sevillano, Colegio Niña María Adoratrices, Colegio de los Hermanos Maristas, Maudes hospital from the walls and floors of this palace.

Maristas school, former Duchess of Sevillano's Palace

Maristas school, former Duchess of Sevillano's Palace inside

The visit took around two hours, and it was free except for the pantheon. Being able to see the inside of both schools was the best, because it is rare that visitors are allowed in either. Thus, I am glad I signed up for this, especially as the weather held – we had a tiny bit of drizzle, but not much, and the clouds kept the cold at bay.

20th December 2023: Brilla Madrid Zoo (Madrid, Spain)

After an unwarranted amount of stress in the morning, I decided to take a little escapade in the evening to see some lights. The city of Torrejón is known as one of the local “Christmas hubs”, but it was “family day” and tickets were free, so there was no way to get a same-day entrance. I was a bit bummed, because that was convenient to reach by public transport. Instead, I resolved to go to Madrid instead – there was a light show on the topic of animals which had a small same-day discount – with it, I could get the skip the queue “upgrade”, the ticket itself, and the processing fees for the price of a nominal ticket. The downside was that I had to drive there. I booked entrance for the 18:40 timeslot, and left about 17:15, anticipating the traffic jams on my way to the park Parque Juan Carlos I. Traffic on the motorway was rather aggressive and all the exits were jammed. Thus, instead of driving to the main entrance to the park, I decided to drop the car off near one of the side entrances, and walk the last couple of kilometres instead of driving them. When I strolled by the parking lot, I saw that it was full and there were emergency vehicles there – I would have had to go to the inner parking lot, which means walking almost as much, and I saved one merging into the highway and one exit. I don’t mind driving, but I’m not a fan of other drivers.

As I walked into the park, I ran into the first sign reading Brilla Madrid Zoo (Madrid Shining Zoo). They had placed signs all along my path – rather convenient. I walked for about 15 minutes and I was at the gate just past the 18:20 timeslot. Since it was a schoolday, and quite cold, it was almost empty and the staff had no problem letting me through. Brilla Madrid Zoo is a project by Brilla Events, who claim that there are over 500 light figures – I did not count – in a path that takes about 1.3 kilometres.

Brilla Madrid Zoo entryway

After the entrance arch, you go down to the actual ticket control. I had bought the skip-the-queue ticket which allowed me to see an “extra” exhibit in a tent, called Pollinators (Polinizadores). The whole Brilla Madrid Zoo exhibit has a “take care of the earth” kind of message, but it gets old really quickly as each “animal” repeats the same few words every couple of minutes. The Pollinators area had giant displays of a hummingbird, a bee, a butterfly, a bloom, and a bat for some reason. There was a screen with “Gaia” addressing the crowd, and it would have been creepy if not for the kiddos running and screaming around.

Brilla Madrid Zoo Giant hummingbird

As I went in, I was greeted by giant giraffe necks, then I moved into the Savannah (Sabana), with lions, leopards, zebras, hyenas, antelopes and elephants. Afterwards, there was the Jungle (Jungla) with gorillas, capybaras, jaguars… From there, after a turn, there was Australia, with echidnas, koalas, dingos, kangaroos.

Brilla Madrid Zoo Giraffes, Jungle, Australia, Whale

The entrance to the Ocean area (Océanos) could be done through a whale. Along the fountains / ponds of the park stood sharks (great whites and hammerheads), lionfish, turtles, clown fish (a.k.a. Nemo), blue tangs (a.k.a Dori), barracudas, koi carps, corals… There were also two real geese who seemed to be enjoying the exhibit too. It was really hard to take straight pictures as there was very little reference outside the actual animal.

Brilla Madrid Zoo Ocean

As I got close to the River areas (Ríos), there were otters and frogs. The coastal biomes were represented by the Swamp (Pantanos) and the Mangroves (Manglares). There were crocodiles, anacondas, Venus flytraps… for the first, and a flock of birds for the latter – flamingoes, pelicans, herons…

Brilla Madrid Zoo Rivers, Mangroves, Swamps

Then there was a bit of an avenue flanked by Flamingoes (Flamencos) to reach the Butterfly zone (Mariposas) and the Peacocks (Pavos reales). After another turn, there was the area dedicated to Nocturnal Animals (Nocturnos), with lemurs, bats, owls, and a wolf howling at the moon, perched on a dolmen.

Brilla Madrid Zoo flamingoes, butterflies, peacocks and wolf

After the dolmen, I found the Reptiles (Reptiles), with more frogs, iguanas, chameleons, a cute Komodo dragon… The path lead to what I guess is China by any other name: the Tiger (Tigre) and Pandas (Pandas). The Extinct Animal section (Extintos) was sad – with a dodo, a Tasmanian tiger, a white rhino, a Yangtze dolphin, a species of emu…

Brilla Madrid Zoo Reptiles, Panda, Tiger, Extinct animals

But then came the fantastical animals: Griffon (Grifo), Dragon (Dragón), Alicorns (Alicornios) – winged unicorns – and a Phoenix (Fénix).

Brilla Madrid Zoo griffon, dragon, alicorn and phoenix

Once outside the area, you find the Ice figures (Hielo), with seals, Arctic foxes and penguins. There was a tent with a souvenir shop and some food stalls, but I did not go inside. I thought I would just walk back through the park before it became too late – and colder.

Brilla Madrid Zoo Ice

I liked Brilla much better than this year’s Naturaleza Encendida, to be honest. It was quite cold though, and a bit windy. I ran into another jam on the way back, this time caused by an accident. I have a theory regarding signals in this country – half of the drivers don’t use them, and out of the ones who do, yet another half think that signalling gives them immediate preference, even when what they are doing is illegal…

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.

2nd December 2023: Iron balconies and croquettes (Madrid, Spain)

I wanted to do a full day in Madrid this weekend, but ticketing did not align, thus I had to organise two half days. So on Saturday morning I set off for an 11:00 visit to Frontón Beti-Jai. A frontón is the court where games of Basque pelota (pelota vasca) are played. The term refers to a number of sports that use a small hard ball which is hit by the players so it bounces off the vertical walls of the court. Depending on the specific variety, the ball can be hit with the hand, a racket, a bat or a type of basket, and it can bounce on one or two walls of the frontón as long as they are at right angles with each other. Basque pelota is mainly played in Spain and France, and it is also popular in some Latin America countries. Though it was originally included in the 1900 Olympics, it has only been played as an exhibition sport and never in competition.

In the 19th century, Basque pelota was a popular and lucrative business in Spain, especially in Madrid. In 1891, businessman José Arana commissioned architect Joaquín Rucoba to build a frontón in Madrid, “similar to but better than” the one in San Sebastián, the original Beti-Jai. The capital’s Beti-Jai (“always party” in Basque) was placed in the district of Chamberí, witch construction starting in 1893. The architect designed a white-and-grey outer façade in an eclectic style with Neoclassical reminiscences in order to blend with the mansions in the area at the time, and a red-brick Neomudéjar secondary or side façade. The inner wall that stands behind the main entrance is also Neomudéjar. The playing court is plain concrete, and he whole area is shaped as a half-ellipse. There were long-lost stands on the ground, and three upper stories supported and adorned by cast iron balconies and columns, with a wooden roof on top. The decoration on the balconies is different for each floor.

The frontón opened in 1894 and it hosted games until 1919 – it is said that the crackdown on the betting systems and loan sharks caused Basque pelota to slowly fade out of fashion. Throughout the period and afterwards, it also had some alternative – and creative – uses, among them aeronautical experiments by renown engineer Leonardo Torres Quevedo, car workshop (a few times in different years), motorbike shop, political hotspot, even industrial bakery. The stands were eventually walled off – which protected the ironwork. Though both in the late 1970s and the early 1990s the building was “declared” as protected, the structure was eventually left to rot. The building was bought and restored by the Madrid Town Hall between 2010 and 2019, finally attaining protected status in 2011. It is the largest and oldest frontón standing.

Frontón Beti Jai inner façade and stands

I like cast iron architecture a lot, which is why I signed up for this Pasea Madrid guided visit. We did not get a nice and knowledgeable guide this time, so I mentally checked out. She was not just nervous, she read the whole visit out of a phone, gave some wrong or plain false information, and relied on people “knowing things” and “having visited places”. I wandered around taking pictures and approaching the group periodically trying to fish out any interesting bit of information, until the guide grew tired and kicked us out when most people decided to just stand in the sun, even if there was some time left. People who had been listening to her had barely any time for photographs.

Fronton Beti Jai Stands.

After the frontón, I had a reservation for lunch a restaurant part of a franchise specialising in croquettes, is called Solo de Croquetas Zurbano – a pun between “only croquettes” and “croquettes’ solo”; Zurbano is just the street. It has been a bit of a buzz lately so I was really curious about it. The place was organised in three floors – a bar on the ground floor, a loft-like seating on the first floor and a bigger restaurant-like area in the basement.

Though the Internet said the restaurant opened at 13:00, I was offered a reservation at 12:45, which I took because I did not want to be wandering around in the cold for too long. I was not extremely surprised though when I popped by at the reservation time and it was indeed crossed. I ended up wandering for a while before 13:00 came up and I could sit down. I decided to try a basic “croquette tasting”, which includes six savoury croquettes two sweet ones, and a drink. There are three lists to choose from, and I took the B-set:

  • Rulo de cabra con pimiento caramelizado, goat cheese roller with caramelised red pepper – happy to report the pepper was barely distinguishable, just added some colour to the filling. Very cheesy, cheese is always good.
  • Boletus con trufa, boletus with truffle. Lots of mushroom, little truffle, but okay. I’m not that much of a truffle fan anyway.
  • Provolone con tomate seco y orégano, provolone cheese with dry tomato and oregano. There is never such a thing as too much cheese.
  • Cachopo; a cachopo is a typical dish from the North of Spain that consists on two beef steaks with a filling between them, and everything breaded, which I ate once in Astorga. This one was weird.
  • Cecina con puerro y queso gorgonzola, beef jerky with celery and gorgonzola cheese. Probably my favourite out of the savoury ones.
  • Sobrasada de Mallorca con queso Mahón, sobrassada (cured pork sausage filling) with Mahon cheese. All right.
  • Croqueta de Oreo con chocolate blanco, Oreo and white chocolate. Rather good, which is surprising considering I don’t even like Oreos…
  • Croqueta de Cheesecake con frambuesa , Cheesecake and raspberry. Surprising, to say the least.

Solo de croquetas tasting

All in all it was good. The croquettes were decently sized and had distinctive flavours. The set felt a bit scarce though. Not that I went hungry, but I could have done with another couple of croquettes. I think it is what they are counting on – the tasting is okay, price-wise, considering the novelty (18.50 €), but if you want anything else, the meal will get very expensive very fast. I guess it is noteworthy that all croquettes are gluten-free, and the tasting has a lactose-free set and a vegan set.

I left the restaurant and walked towards the train station. On the way, I was distracted by the small Christmas market, more precisely by the a gorgeous 1900 merry-go-round that had been installed among other attractions. I had a bit of a walk around to check out the stands and then I went to wait for the train – which was, predictably, delayed.

Carousel in Colón Square

26th November 2023: A Bunker and a Greenhouse (Madrid, Spain)

I have been to the park Parque del Capricho in Madrid before, and I was not really impressed. As it is considered a “hidden gem” in town, I expected something… I don’t know… more grand? It has different “attractions” such as a bee hive, a casino, ponds, fountains, statues… quite into the Romantic spirit of the times it was built, but I really did not connect with its design. I have to admit though that when I first visited I did not register the locked-down door with the word “bunker” surrounded by a brick structure next to the palace. It turns out, there is a Civil War bomb refuge 15 metres underneath the grass (I did see a machine gun spot in the grounds of the nearby castle, which was actually installed there to protect the military position). The refuge is a place you can only visit through the town hall’s Pasea Madrid program, as it is usually closed to the public.

The park was built as a recreational garden between 1787 and 1839 at the whim of the 12th Duchess (and Countess) of Osuna, who placed a summer house Palacio de los Duques de Osuna, in the centre of it. It became wildly popular among the high classes at the time – just like walking around cemeteries had become popular in France and England. However, at the turn of the 20th century the park had dwindled in fame. It changed hands, and after the 1929 crash it became all but abandoned. With the advent of the Spanish Civil War, the palace became an orphanage first, and it was later confiscated by the Republican government to be used as military operation centre. General José Miaja was in charge of defending Republican Madrid from the military coupists and moved the emergency command centre from downtown to the so-called Posición Jaca in the outskirts. The park was chosen because it is close to the airport, and it was easy to deploy defence batteries. Some of the most important battles in central Spain were “supervised” from there.

The day started dark and gloomy, so I picked up a thick coat – the webpage also noted that the temperature in the refuge is around 15 ºC. Public transport was just not feasible – round trip would have been about four hours by train – so I took the 40-minute drive and parked in the main avenue, a few minutes away from the park entrance. I had calculated a wide berth of time because I was not sure how easy it would be to park, but I apparently got there before the family weekend-makers. I was early for the 11:00 tour, so I just hung out the park for a little. By the time I walked in, the weather was nice and sunny.

One of the buildings in the park is a miniature farming house that today has an equally-tiny orchard with cabbages, cauliflowers and… a pumpkin patch. I swear, I had never seen a pumpkin patch before, not one so… colourful. I walked around for a little, then waited for the guide to arrive.

Pumpkin patch in El Capricho

The Civil War bunker or refuge Búnker del Capricho was built next to the palace where the command was set, excavated into and down the small hill. It was designed to withstand bombings, and protect its occupants from chemical attacks – people were rightfully freaked out as World War I had yielded to the development of chemical weapons. Building the refuge was commissioned to miners-turned-soldiers, who were able to finish it within the first few months of 1937. In case of an attack, the palace would be evacuated from the doors and windows, the personnel would go down into the refuge and close and lock the doors. Once operational, the refuge could host 200 people for up to two of weeks.

The bunker is dug between 14 and 16 metres into the ground. The walls could withstand most bombs designed at the time, with some of them being over two metres thick. The thirty-metre gallery could be sealed with submarine-like doors – designed by marine engineers – and keep out any toxic gas. There is a ventilation system and different wards on the sides, one of them identifiable as an operating theatre, another as a shower room. The floors are tiled, with different patterns for different rooms – the theory is that the patterns would allow anyone to know where they were even in low visibility conditions. The gallery is tiled too, but in white, and it has round ceilings, also painted white – also in theory, this is to counteract the claustrophobia from being underground; this idea was also applied when the first underground stations were built in Madrid.

Upon entering the bunker, there are two flights of stairs at a ninety-degree angle to each other. Then, there is another right-angle turn to enter the actual refuge. There are two metal doors that could be hermetically shut, now peeled-off and rusty, but which really look like ship or submarine safety doors. This design minimises shock waves and blocks any gas that could be used against the Republican Command. The structure is bigger and wider than I thought it would be.

Underground refuge in el Capricho Park

I guess it is part of the Spanish history, so good enough to see once and then move on – know about history not to repeat it, but do not dwell in it. Which is what I did. Once the guided visit was over, I wandered the park for a little. I found the park miniature fortress, the lake with its black swans, and the small casino. I was hoping for some nice autumn colours like I saw a couple of weeks before in Retiro Park, but there was not much on that front. I however did come across a few bees hard at work.

Black swan feeding

Honey bee on purple flower

I left the El Capricho and went across the avenue to walk into the neighbouring, bigger park Parque Juan Carlos I. I wanted to see the so-called Estufa Fría – just a fancy name to call a greenhouse. The greenhouse did have some pretty autumn colours in the Japanese garden, as the small maples (Acer palmatum) had started turning gold and red. The structure hosts palm trees, ferns, a small “bamboo grove” and an autochthonous forest that was composed of mostly evergreen plants and ivy. I had no idea that the Estufa Fría even existed until a few days before, so I guess I’ll need to keep it on my radar for future springtime visits – I want to see the blooming cherry trees in that park anyway.

Estufa fría or cold greenhouse in Juan Carlos I park

It was not much of an outing, barely a few hours, and I was home for a late lunch. I did not want to stay out long, as that evening I had tickets for the opera.

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.

7th November 2023: A Jurassic amount of Lego (Madrid, Spain)

The fact that I like dinosaurs would come to no one’s surprise by now. To be honest, the older I turn, the more I think of them in the mind frame of the xkcd comic “Grownups”. Dinosaurs are silly fun, and it’s not like I’ve got a few million dollars lying around to buy a whole T-Rex skeleton anyway. What I do have is a silly knack to find things to do that are related to them – selective perception, if you wish. On this occasion, I heard that Madrid would be hosting the European Premiere of Jurassic World Exhibition by Brickman.

It is widely known that Jurassic Park and Jurassic World are part of a widely successful franchise. However, what or who is Brickman? In order to answer that question, we need to find out what a LEGO Certified Professional is: a person whose business model is working with LEGO blocks, making stuff for publicity, for example, and they are so good at it that they actually become LEGO-affiliates. The Brickman is a team of people who are led by Australian LPC Ryan ‘The Brickman’ McNaught – basically, they get paid to play with LEGO all day, and are commissioned things to build (which I think is awesome, in case you had any doubt). The Brickman Team have under their collective belt six exhibitions touring the world, and some of the largest and more detailed LEGO models ever built.

I came across the Jurassic World LEGO exhibition by pure chance, but once I knew about it, I worked on timing. The exhibition kicked off on the 30th of September and it will be there until the 14th of January – and it turned out that Tuesdays are cheaper. I bought a ticket for the opening timeslot at 11:00, and planned my day. I had to go to Madrid’s IFEMA Espacio 5.1, where I had already seen The Dino World Expo. It took 25 minutes to drive there and 35 to find a parking spot at the end of the world, then walk to the venue. Only when I was right by IFEMA, I saw that the paid parking lot was open – it is usually not when I am at IFEMA. Since it was a schoolday, I hoped to see the exhibition without many people – and kids – around so I could have fun with pictures.

As the name hints, the whole exhibition is based around LEGO-built Jurassic World items and scenes. Most of the rooms have brick buckets for you to put together whatever you want, freely or with instructions / missions. I did not build anything, but I had a lot of fun, once I managed to get in. When I arrived at 11:05, the ticket reader was not working, but the person at the door let people in anyway. He even offered to take your picture with the doors to Isla Nublar, which are already made from LEGO and actually really open. They recreate the gates shown in the first Jurassic Park films, but they read “Jurassic World” instead. Once inside, I asked a staff member if they had any stamps for the LEGO passport, and she had absolutely no clue what I was talking about – I think she thought I was weird, but oh well. The first room has “smaller” exhibits in comparison with others. There is a working monorail, a few aircraft and a life-sized 3D map of the island. It was weird to hear the Spanish dub from the films when a lot of the screens were still in English.

Jurassic World by Brickman entrance

The second room has a DNA strand and an amber collection site, and a shelf with lots of “hybrid” creatures. Some of them were cool, others just made me giggle – you were encouraged to build your own hybrid. The third room was “baby dinosaurs” under a huge brachiosaurus (171,150 bricks; apparently is one of the largest models in the world). There were some hatching eggs, too. In this room there were bigger LEGO bricks for the youngest kids to play and build stuff with.

Jurassic World by Brickman - LEGO baby dinosaurs

Then came a sort of control room – where visitors can track the escaped dinosaurs while some flying reptiles lurk from the ceiling, somehow recreating the alert in the first Jurassic World instalment. After that, there is a set up of the JW velociraptors, Blue and Delta having escaped and Echo and Charlie still in their pens. I had seen a LEGO Blue before, for the Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom promotion in the Natural History Museum in London, but this one was much cooler, and scaled 1:1 to the film – 58,227 bricks.

Jurassic World by Brickman - LEGO Velociraptors

Despite all the promotion and toys she gets, Blue is probably not the fan-favourite dinosaur from the films. She is not mine for sure – that would be Rexy, the T-Rex. And after a mural of the mosasaur (number two on my list) hunting down a great white shark, Rexy finally comes into view, in one of her most glorious scenes from the original Jurassic Park: chasing the Jeep after Dr Sattler and Muldoon have just rescued Ian Malcolm. The Jeep was built using 227,098 bricks (which makes it even more complex than the brachiosaurus), and Rexy 128,763. One thing I noticed was that they had changed the jeep’s number, from 10 to 18, I’m guessing there is some inside joke there. They even recreated her reflection on the rear-view mirrors, which was pretty neat.

Jurassic World by Brickman - LEGO jeep being chased by the T-rex

The exhibit was fun for the discounted price, but the shop was crazy expensive. When I finished, I walked back to the parking spot. I had to walk through part of the park Parque Juan Carlos I. In the middle of the so-called Southern Pond Estanque Sur there is a hideous sculpture made of wrought iron, which is called “Walk between two trees” Paseo entre dos árboles by sculptor Jorge Castillo . As I was staring at it trying to figure out what it meant (and even after reading up on the symbolism, I don’t get it), I approached the edge of the water. A flock of mallard ducks swam over to see if I had any food, and I noticed something that was neither a duck nor a goose – a great cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo). I had never seen cormorants in Madrid before. Seagulls, yes, but not cormorants, and I actually saw three of them.

Juan Carlos I Park, Southern Pond

I headed off for lunch at La Vaguada, a shopping centre not far away from IFEMA, though the Sat-Nav went weird and I took forever. I actually had a couple of things to do in that area, not least of all drop by the LEGO Store La Vaguada to actually get a small stamp – or three – for the rally. I mean, I had already been to the exhibition, I was going to be there, I had taken the LEGO passport just in case…

La Vaguada LEGO shop

Serious things taken care of, I looked for the restaurant Running Sushi In Market, a call-back to a kaizensushi – small-plates of sushi on a conveyor belt – in an all-you-can-eat business model part of a franchise. It is more of an “Asian” place than a sushi restaurant and you have a range of recipes, from actual sushi to baos, skewers, noodles, dumplings, sausages… You are given a table for one hour to eat as much as you want, and pay a fixed rate plus drinks. It was not bad at all, though for the cheap price, tuna was too much to ask for. The decoration is extremely kitsch, but they had absolutely no problem giving me a five-people table for myself, and I stayed about 25 minutes, plus some pictures. But I forgot to sign up for the loyalty program…

Running Sushi In Market restaurant

The shopping centre has a ticketless parking lot that you can use for free for two hours, and when you are going to pay you just have to type your licence plate. I was there for 1 hour and 58 minutes in the end, so I did not have to pay anything, which was great. Then, unfortunately, I ran into a huge traffic jam, as it was get-out-of-work time, and there had been an accident on the motorway. Even though, I made it home before tea-time. However, I did not eat anything else that day. I might have overdone it with the last small dish of lichee fruit…

26th October 2023: Groove& in Guadalajara (Spain)

This was a short-enough trip that I could just fit in within half a day. Not that Guadalajara has many things that interest me, but it is close enough to Madrid that now and then there is a good show or artist coming. This time around, the South Korea Cultural Centre Centro Cultural Coreano, sponsored a small tour by the Korean percussion group Groove&, as part of its Korea Sound Festival. One of the stops was the Centro Ibercaja Guadalajara.

Korea Sound Festival poster

Based in Seoul, Groove& defines itself as a female percussion ensemble team based on traditional music. It is formed by three women: Sang-kyung Lee [이상경], Min-ju Sohn [손민주] and Ha-gyeong Kim [김하경]. All of them play the janggu [장구], which is the most traditional Korean drum – it has two heads (each with a different pitch) made from animal skin and the body is hourglass-shaped.

Sang-kyung Lee also plays the yanggeum [양금], a percussion instrument similar to a hammered dulcimer, but with metal strings which are hit with a bamboo stick to produce the music. Min-ju Sohn plays the ulla [운라], a set of ten small gongs hanging vertically from a wooden frame, the gongs are struck with a small beater. Finally, Ha-gyeong Kim plays the kkwaenggwari [꽹과리] a small brass gong which is held from a string with one hand and struck with a hard stick with the other. There were also cymbals and gongs.

Groove&'s Korean percussion instruments

I arrived at the cultural centre about half an hour before the show. There were a few people waiting, and it was a very weird crowd. Entry was free, and the act was sponsored by a local cultural association, which attracted a number of people who had absolutely no idea about what they were going to see. When doors opened, I found a seat on the third row, behind the authorities and the associates, but rather in the centre. The introduction was a little bit embarrassing though. The person introducing the band could not pronounce their name, and she sneered that “Korea is more than we know from the films and series that are a fad”. Well, of course. I’ve never been to Seoul, but I am rather sure people do not squid-game through life.

The concert lasted for about an hour and it was very interesting. Unfortunately, the venue was extremely small and the metal instruments reverberated a lot. For the first song, Kim walked out dressed in a folk costume and played around the audience, I think in a bit of a recreation of a pungmul [풍물] – a Korean folk music tradition that includes drumming, dancing, and singing, with performers wearing bright colours. Lee did all the talking, and she tried some Spanish along with English. The Korean she spoke was translated into Spanish by someone from the Korean Embassy I think. There were eight songs, a few emcees, during one of which Lee introduced the instruments. This was extremely funny, especially the ulla, as Sohn offered us a rendition of Under the sea from The Little Mermaid.

Groove& playing in Guadalajara

Setlist:

   1. Groove&
   2. Get!
   3. Wave
   4. Chaser
   5. Dodang-gut [도당굿]. Dodang-gut is a shamanic festival / ritual to call the spirits so they bring welfare, and well-being to the village, with a special importance given to female shamans.
   6. Pray
   7. Dusk
   8. Matt-Jang-Gu [맞장구]. This is a word that means agreement or listening to the other person, and also the position of two people playing the janggu drum face-to-face.

The show was extremely energetic considering these three women barely even move from their siting points on the floor. I had a lot of fun, despite the weird public – and the fact that apparently people in Guadalajara just love talking during shows, providing commentary.

Despite the metallic sounds being extremely high and echoing, the drumming was fantastic, you could feel it in your belly, and I really enjoyed it. I had never thought I would end up in a traditional Korean drumming show, but the opportunity presented itself and I took it up. A while back I participated in a Japanese drumming (taiko) workshop, and had a blast. I did not expect this to be similar – different countries and all – but I’m starting to suspect I like folk percussion in general.

20231026 Groove& greeting after the concert in Guadalajara

After the concert, the three drummers met with attendees. They took pictures with people and had some merchandising on sale. I bought a signed CD for 10€, said “thank you” in Korean (literally the only thing I can say that is not a food… and I don’t even like Korean food) and we took a picture together.

Groove& posing in Guadalajara

I headed off after that, just in time to get caught in the rain, because what is a concert without a little adventure?

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.

7th October 2023: The historical centre of Valencia (Spain)

I had the chance to spend a few hours – seven, to be exact – in Valencia | València (first name in Spanish, second one in local dialect) due to unforeseen circumstances. I’ve been there before, but it was to visit the Oceanogràfic, and I had not entered the historical area.

Valencia is the third-largest city in Spain. It is known for its love of pyrotechnia – Las Fallas – and its famous paella rice dish. The city dates back to the Roman period, in the 2nd century BCE. During the Middle Ages, it was one of the most disputed areas between the Christian and the Moor troops, changing hands a few times. The city flourished in the Late Medieval Period under Christian ruling. It played an important role during the Napoleonic war, and during the 20th century it became a great importer of wine and citrus, especially oranges. During the Civil War, it was the Republican capital, so it was heavily bombarded. With the advent of democracy, the city invested in development and tourism.

I arrived at the station Joaquín Sorolla around 11:30, which is not far from the centre. It was pretty hot, even if it was October, so I was ready for a few weekend-tourists. One detail that I had not planned on, nor thought about, was that it was a long weekend over there, Monday the 9th was a holiday, and there were way more than “a few” weekend-tourists. Also, I walked into a lot of preparations forfor institutional acts, which got in the way of photographs – the city hall square was cordoned off and it was really hard to get a good view. On one side of the closed-off area stands the town hall Ayuntamiento de Valencia | Ajuntament de València, on the other, the old central postal office Palacio de las Comunicaciones de Valencia | Palau de les Comunicacions de València. The town hall is actually a mash-up of two different buildings, one from the late 19th century, and another – the façade – from the 1930s, with Renaissance and Baroque inspirations.

Valencia town hall

I continued off towards the main market – Mercado Central | Mercat Central. This is an impressive Modernist building designed by architects Alejandro Soler March and Francisco Guardia Vial. Construction started in 1914 and finished in 1928 – the building was erected in iron, glass and ceramic tiles, the central dome is 30 metres high. This is one of those places I wish I were a VIP and could see closed, because it was fantastic. Unfortunately, though it is the largest market of fresh produce in Europe, it was extremely full, and it was hard to even stand to the side and take a photograph or two.

Central Market Valencia

Next to the market stands the church Royal Parish of the St Johns Real Parroquia de los Santos Juanes | Església dels Sants Joans also known as St John of the Market. When checking if the city tourist card was a good choice for me – it was not – I bought a combined ticket that included this church and two other buildings for 12 € (considering that each on its own was at least 7 €, it was a sweet deal.

Church of the Saint Johns Valencia

Most of the original Gothic building has been destroyed, and its appearance today is mostly Baroque. It seems that the church is prone to fire accidents, and burnt down totally or partially at least three times. It is undergoing inner restoration at the moment, which takes away from the fresco decoration of the vaulted nave. The frescoes were carried out by Antonio Palomino in the 16th century, and the Baroque altarpiece was brought from another church in the north of Spain. An add-on to the church is the Capilla de la Comunión, the chapel of the Holy Communion was added in the 18th century. The church reminded me of the Italian Baroque I saw in Naples.

In front of the church, on the other side of the square, stands what I consider the most important building in the city – the Silk Exchange, or Lonja de la Seda | Llotja de la Seda, also called Lonja de los Mercaderes | Llotja de Mercaders. In Spanish, a lonja is a type of public building where merchants would negotiate and auction their produce, traditionally fish. In this case, instead, it was used for trading in silk during the Middle Ages. Silk was important for Valencia, and the city is considered part of the Silk Route. The Arabs introduced it in the 14th century, planting mulberry trees to produce it, and the trade became so important that it required its own building.

Lonja de la Seda Valencia

The Exchange was originally designed by Francesc Baldomar in the late 15th century, though he died before completing it. His disciples Joan Ivarra and Pere Compte finished the building according to Baldomar’s original plans and drawings. The building has four distinct areas: the Tower, the orange garden (Patio de los Naranjos), the Contract or Trading Hall (Sala de Contratación) – which were the original ones – and the Sea Consulate Hall (Sala del Consulado del Mar ). There is also a small basement.

The building is considered the masterpiece of the civil Valencian Gothic, a style that flourished in the east of Spain towards the end of the Gothic period. It is characterised by a heavy reliance of traditional Roman architecture and a little Mudejar influence. Wide open halls are typical, with decoration and sculpture influenced by Flaming Gothic. The Exchange is decorated with tiny gargoyles sprinkled all around the outside of the building towards the garden.

The Trading Hall has three naves which rest on eight helical columns and 16 pilasters that hold the vaults, eleven metres above ground. Further ribbing extends from the the columns, creating a net that spreads all over the ceiling. The combination of columns and ribbing tries to represent heaven – the palm tree trunks and the celestial sphere. Another ceiling that deserves admiration is the painted wooden one in the first hall of the Sea Consulate.

Lonja de la Seda Valencia

Wooden roof of the Consulado de Mar in Valencia

I loved the Exchange, but it is not as if I have ever scorned anything Gothic. However, I could not stay forever, so I pushed myself to leave. I went around the building once and then, after a short stop at a cute little round square, Plaza Redonda, I found my way to the large square Plaza de La Reina, where the cathedral stands.

The Iglesia catedral-basílica Metropolitana de la Asunción de Nuestra Señora de Valencia | La Seu is also built in Valencian Gothic on Romanesque foundations. It was erected over a Roman Temple, and part of the Roman remains can be visited in the “archaeological area” of the museum, underneath the current church. The main building that stands today was erected between the 13th and 15th centuries, thus the prevalence of Gothic, but there are earlier and later styles – as recent as Neoclassical.

Valencia Cathedral

In a side chapel, in the middle of an alabaster Gothic altarpiece (1777), the cathedral holds and exhibits its most important treasure – the Holy Chalice (Santo Cáliz), sometimes called Holy Grail. According to the Christian tradition, the Holy Chalice is the vessel used by Jesus Christ during the last supper. If we follow the Spanish legend, when the Virgin Mary died, Jesus’ disciples gathered everything that belonged to him, and Saint Peter took it to Rome. During the persecution of Christians in the Roman Empire, the Chalice was entrusted to Saint Lawrence, who brought it to one of the former Spanish realms. It was eventually presented to the monarch in 1399. In 1437, King Alfonso V of Aragón donated it to the Cathedral of Valencia.

According to other legends, there was this King called Arthur, and something about a knights and a round table. In the Arthurian legend, there was a mystical object called the “Grail.” which was originally a Celtic cauldron with magic powers. However, the concept became mixed up with the Chalice when the story was “Christianised” – the chieftain on whom Arthur is based on, and his legend, originates in the 5th century BCE, so there is no way that Arthur looked for the Chalice anyway.

The Valencia Chalice itself is a stemless cup made of carnelian (dark red agate) – and that is the relic itself. It was most likely produced in Syria, Palestine or Egypt, and it has been dated between the 2nd century BCE and the 1st century CE. There is an Arab Kufic inscription on its base. I am not sure it fits what Indiana Jones would have called “the cup of a carpenter”. The cup is mounted on a gold stem embellished with gold, pearls and emeralds, with a foot and two handles, which were added in Medieval times. Now, the cathedral claims that it cannot be proven that it is not the Holy Chalice, and the translation of the Kufic script is supposed to be “Allah Josua”, translated as “Jesus God”.

Valencia Cathedral and Holy Chalice Chapel

The cathedral also has a museum and the previously-mentioned archaeological areas, with a Roman road and human remains. The museum has sculptures and paintings from the cathedral itself and religious artefacts. The bell tower is famous in its own right. Erected between 1381 and 1429, it is called Miguelete | Micalet – “Little Michael”, which is actually the name of the bell at the top. . The tower has eight sides on the outside, and is circular in the inside, with 207 steps up to the terrace. The bell-gable was added in the 18th century, but the tower itself is Valencian Gothic just like the cathedral. The views are not as impressive as expected as the whole thing is netted off and it is hard to see anything unobstructed.

Views from Miguelete

The cathedral is connected to the Episcopal palace on the other side of the street by a sort-of bridge called Arco sobre la calle de la Barchilla | Arc del Carrer de la Barcella that I saw when I went round the cathedral. I also saw the Tribunal de Aguas de Valencia | Tribunal de les Aigües de València and Palacio de la Generalidad Valenciana | Palau de la Generalitat Valenciana on my way to the church of Saint Nicholas and Saint Peter Martyr (part of my combined ticket).

San Nicolás de Bari y San Pedro Mártir | Sant Nicolau de Bari I Sant Pere Martir stands at the end of an alleyway that comes from one of the main arteries of the city. It quite humbly calls itself “The Valencian Sistine Chapel”. It is a single-nave church, built in the 15th century on top of a Mosque which was in turn built on top of a Visigoth palaeo-Christian temple. During the Baroque period, the whole vault was decorated with frescoes, to the point that. And when I mean “whole” I mean… whole. There was no space for an extra soul, saint, angel or whatever. It was so full I could not process the painting as individual items, just as a whole.

Frescoed Vault of Saint Nicholas church in Valencia

Afterwards, I went into the small streets that led into the Arab Quarter, marked by the archway Portal de Valldigna. I also spotted an Islamic tower Torre islámica | Torre islàmica in side a private parking lot, and the remains of the Arab walls Muralla Árabe de Valencia | Muralla àrab de València.

I finally reached one of the gates of the Medieval city walls – Torres de Serranos | Portal dels Serrans. The gate was flanked by two polygonal defensive towers built in the Gothic style and finished in 1398. They survived the destruction of the wall ordered in the 19th century as they were used as prison. Today, they can be climbed and hold a small museum, but I had already gone up the bell tower, so I decided I was good with heights for the day.

Serranos Towers Valencia

I headed back to the historical centre and reached the area of the cathedral. I decided to buy a stupidly expensive typical drink of the area, horchata de chufa | orxata de xufa, made from sweetened tiger nuts, usually with a severe quality control. I remembered trying it as a kid and that I did not like it much, but I decided to try it anyway – I had riskier culinary adventures in Egypt after all. It was not bad, but decided that I am still not a fan – and it was chilly, which helped against the heat.

There is another surviving gate structure of the Medieval wall, the Torres de Quart | Portal de Quart. They were a bit out of my way, so I left them for the time when I started retreating back towards the station. Unlike the Serrano ones, the Quart towers are cylindrical, but they share the Valencian Gothic style. They were built between 1441 and 1460 have been damaged in the different wars that the city has survived, and holes from shelling are clearly visible on the stone.

Quart Towers Valencia

Taking a small detour from my way to the station, my next stop was the silk museum – Museo y Colegio del Arte Mayor de la Seda | Museu I Collegi d’Art Major de la Seda. I only went here because it was the “extra” museum my triple ticket had it, and I had the time to do. I was not impressed though, as more than on silk it focused on the local re-enactment of the Medieval battles in Valencia and the costumes.

Just next block over however, I found the park Jardines del Hospital | Jardins de l’Antic Hospital, where the 15th-century hospital used to be until it was demolished in 1974. The park was reorganised between 2009 and 2012, and an “archaeological garden” has been prepared next to the skate park, with free-standing columns, and a shelf with chapitels and the remains of sculptures that have been found in the area.

Archaeological Garden Valencia

Unexpectedly, I walked by the monument to Spanish Medieval warlord El Cid Monumento a Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar | Monument a Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, a copy of the original sculpture of Anna Hyatt Huntington, which is in the Spanish Society of America in New York.Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, El Cid, became Lord of Valencia. He besieged the Moorish city between 1092 and 1094, until the city surrendered. Having proclaimed himself Prince-Lord, he died in 1099 – the legend says that after he died, he was placed on his horse and just catching sight of him made his enemies run away.

Monument to El Cid in Valencia

My final stop was the gastronomic experience Mercado de la Imprenta | Mercat de la Imprenta. Aside from horchata, Valencia is known for its ice-cream, and I was hoping to find one. There were none, unfortunately, so I just walked the last bit towards the train station – and had a sundae there, because why not?

All in all, I think I spent as much time on trains / at stations as roaming and visiting monuments, but I reckon I did a good job out of getting a feeling off the old town of Valencia. Lots of pretty Gothic buildings to see, which was enjoyable. It probably warrants a whole weekend to see the dozen or so small public museums. It was bit too hot, especially for October, but it did not feel as humid as I imagined it might be.

3rd October 2023: Highgate Cemetery {Miyavi in London 2023}

I own up to my love for older cemeteries, in particular Victorian ones. After stumbling across Brompton Cemetery for the first time, I learnt about London’s Magnificent Seven. These are seven cemeteries “within a crow’s flight of Saint Paul’s cathedral” (9 km), all established privately in the 19th century. During the 1800s, London was the largest city in the world. Its population increased from one million to 2.3 million throughout the century – more living, more dead.

Several problems arose. There were too many burials in the churchyards within the city limits, and decaying matter contaminated water supplies, which in turn led to severe epidemics. Furthermore, a culture of grave-robbing had been established – for clothes, jewellery and the bodies themselves, to be sold to anatomy students and professors. And lastly, British visitors to Paris became impressed by Cimetière du Père-Lachaise – they would not be less than the French.

And thus, as many as eight new cemeteries were established in the outskirts of London. The seven left today – most in use – are called The Magnificent Seven. They became private endeavours, competing against each other to sell plots where people would build their graves. During Victorian times, “pretty” graves were their way of marketing, as it was usual to just go walk in cemeteries – so they had to look “inviting”. Hanging around cemeteries was a very socially-accepted past time due to all the romantic influence.

Though not the first to open, the most famous of these private ventures is probably Highgate Cemetery. Designed by architect Stephen Geary, it was dedicated (basically, opened) in 1839, and it became quite popular – with eye-catching sculpture, architecture, trees, shrubbery, wildflowers… It was not to everybody’s tastes, of course – writer H.G. Wells (who, with permission of Jules Verne, is considered “the father of science fiction”), despised the “cheap urns and obelisks” overpopulation there. The cemetery was abandoned in the 1970s when the company that owned it went bankrupt, and in 1981 the charity Friends of Highgate Cemetery Trust acquired ownership. The cemetery is divided in two areas – the West cemetery is the older one, built uphill; the East cemetery is the newer one.

Admission is required, unless you have a “grave pass” or are attending a funeral. I had a ticket for a guided tour at 10:30, since after how huge and overwhelming Père-Lachaise felt, I had decided that the difference between plain admission and a tour was not that steep.

I got up around 8:00, still feeling a bit queasy, and headed for Costa Coffee for a vanilla latte and a cookie, which I finished on my way to the underground. After figuring out the Tube changes – the Northern line bifurcates and comes together a few times – I arrived at Archway, and walked the rest of the way. I reached the cemetery gates just before opening time at 10:00 (I had planned to be there at 9:45, so not bad), and a nice lady took my name and gave me my paper ticket. I had booked the Highlights Tour, which takes you around the West Side of the cemetery, but allows you to do a “self-guided tour” at will through both sides.

I used my first 30 minutes to wander around the East Side, I visited the grave of Douglas Adams, a writer to whom ball pens are offered, and philosopher Karl Marx. The East Side is more modern and thus a few contemporary “celebrities” are interred there.

Highgate Cemetery Eastside views

Then I headed off towards the West Side, the most Victorian area. The guide was actually pretty lovely, but the actual “highlights” side of the tour was a bit too swallow for my taste – more anecdotal than anything else. The guide took us to see several “pretty” or unusual graves, but the information was mostly about the people buried there, and not the art. Thus, I feel that we did not get a real taste of the actual Victorian cemetery. The most interesting area in Highgate West Side is the Egyptian Avenue, leading to the Lebanon Circle – so called because of a tree that grew in the centre, though it had to be cut down due to sickness and a new one planted. The guided tour is also the only way to visit the Catacombs and Terrace, which are otherwise closed. Unfortunately, our visit here was cut short due to a classroom of primary-schoolers coming in and trying to scare each other.

Highgate cemetery westside

Highgate cemetery Lebannon circle and Egyptian avenue

Overall, the burial site is a nice place, but I was a bit unimpressed… I think that Highgate is the cemetery that people who do not usually visit cemeteries go to, and thus the fame. I was really expecting more spectacular funerary architecture and sculpture, especially after visiting Brompton. Or maybe I was still feeling a bit off, and I did not enjoy the visit as much as I hoped, so I might have to go back, eventually – after I’ve visited all the remaining Magnificent Seven.

I undid my way and took the underground back to central London. I had promised myself to stop by Leicester Square to get the mug I had loved, so I visited the M&M’s Store London, where I became the proud owner of an I’m afraid of what might happen if I relax bright orange mug. I thought about having some warm lunch in Chinatown, but it started raining, so I decided to head to the station and either have lunch or take my train over there.

I was thirsty but not hungry, so I bought a smoothie and went on towards the airport – the trip went without a hitch, unlike the previous time. As I was about to go through security, I was redirected to the new scanners that they are testing, where you don’t need to take your shoes off nor put your liquids or electronics on a separate tray. I did not beep nor was stopped, but it looked like if you do, you go through heavier scrutiny.

Stansted Airport has an Itsu restaurant, which is a Japanese / healthy-fast-food fusion chain, which I always visit when flying through there. I wanted sushi, but I felt like something warm, so I got some chicken & spring onion gyoza, a bowl of miso soup, and a bottle of coke that finally helped set my stomach. There is a Lego Store at the airport, but it had no stamps. That was a bit of a bummer.

My plane got delayed for an hour, so as I waited I also got a yoghurt. I discovered that I severely dislike people who use “quiet areas” to hold video conferences or phone calls. There was no explanation for the delay, but there was no issue with the flight once the plane was there. After landing, I reached passport control and they directed me to the machines, which had a long waiting queue, so I just asked if I could go through the empty manual checks. I was able to – yay – and as soon as I reached the shuttle stop, the bus arrived. When I reached the parking lot I was easily able to sort the problem of the licence plate not being detected, though I took a bit longer to find the car – it turns out I’m not a good directions-memoriser at 5:00. Thus, despite the delay, I was able to get out of the parking lot on time and was home around 23:00, ready to shower and sleep, in order to get ready and recover, considering I had another trip coming in less than 10 days.

All in all, not trusting the airport nor public transport systems turned out to be productive, even if a bit more expensive – obviously, with an extra hotel night – than usual. However, since Brexit I’ve been seeing more and more transport issues in London. Miyavi’s was the first concert by a Japanese artist I’ve attended after the pandemic, and it was extremely enjoyable, even if there was a bit of a price to pay afterwards. It’s nice to be reminded of the good things in the world.

2nd October 2023: Miyavi’s “Return of the Samurai Guitarist: 20th & Beyond European Tour 2023” {Miyavi in London 2023}

When planning this London trip, I booked two hotels – a bed and breakfast for a lower price for the first night, and a more expensive one next to the venue for the night after the concert – I like staying as close to venues as possible, and the second hotel was literally next building over. I woke up on Monday around 7:00, and it took me 20 to 30 minutes to pack all my things. Since breakfast was included, I accepted the challenge of a full English breakfast. I drew my line at tea though. I love tea but I’m a caffeine addict anyway. I need my boost in the morning.

Though London’s public transport was going through a strike period, I was very lucky with both trains and underground – actions and closures were planned for both the day before I arrived, and the day after I left. I took the Northern Line, and headed off to the O2 Academy Islington to wait for the start of the concert. The venue is part of a shopping arcade, so there were readily available toilets and even better, we could wait under cover. This was great as , as there was a forecast of thunderstorms – which ended up breaking around 17:00. The queue was nothing out of the ordinary, I was the fourth VIP to arrive, and the fifth person overall when I reached the area around 9:15.

Miyavi [雅] was born Ishihara Takamasa [石原 崇雅] is, above all, a guitarist. He was born in 1981 and debuted in 1999, going solo in 2002, aside from doing collaborations with some of the musicians I follow – Yoshiki and Hyde. Miyavi’s concerts are extremely fun, he is full of energy and he sometimes greets fans one by one when he arrives at venues. He is in general a good person, and a volunteer at UNHCR. He has had small roles in American blockbusters such as Kong: Skull Island and Angelina Jolie’s Unbroken. He is really kind during M&Gs too, and one of the few Japanese artists who actually means “world tour” when he announces a world tour. This time he toured Europe and China tour, a continuation of his 2022 North America tour – this leg was called Return of the Samurai Guitarist: 20th & Beyond European Tour 2023.

Miyavi Return of the Samurai Guitarist European Tour poster

After around 500 bus manoeuvres and 90 minutes of waiting, we saw him come into the venue around 13:30. The staff filmed, and he waved and said “thanks for coming.” Other times he has shaken hands and stayed for a chat, but I guess he was tired. He was coming directly from Paris after the concert there the evening before. I’m getting too old for queuing all day though, because even if it did not feel extremely long, I was a bit queasy and headachy all day – there would be a full-blown migraine coming at night but, oh well.

Miyavi Return of the Samurai Guitarist London arrival

Around 15:00, the venue’s crowd management staff decided to rearrange the queue. I had a VIP ticket with included a picture, a pass and a “special present” – which turned out to be a wristband. When buying the ticket, the 25 first purchases had an extra autographed picture, but my Ticketmaster decided to freak out and I did not get that one. Oh well. Anyway, security decided to break the queue into two – one for VIP and Early Entry, the other one for General Audience. This caused a bit of a problem when the VIP tickets had to be read, but at that point I was already safely checked in. The worst was the way the placed the barriers, so sitting down on their supporting structure was awkward. Better that than standing though, as that would have to happen later, once in the venue.

Once the queue was rearranged, around 16:00, I snuck out to go to the hotel and check in. They gave me a “superior” room which was nice and had pretty views, but the bathroom smelled of sewer – as bathrooms near tidal areas sometimes do. I ate a snack and went back to the queue.

VIPs were admitted a bit after 18:00, with disabled VIP ticket-holders coming in first. There was a lot of trouble with the merch shop as they would not take card and they had no change. I did not want to buy anything, so I went straight to the M&G. After the people around me realised that if they stayed back, they would lose their spot, they quickly rearranged themselves back in the queue. I was happy to let the people who had waited in front of me pass – all three of them.

When it was my turn to see Miyavi, I told him a secret – that he reminds me that good things exist in the world. He said thank you. I am horrible at selfies, so I handed my phone to the staff, and they were happy to take two of them. Afterwards, I went into the venue and found my spot at the barrier, centre but a bit to the right – which was apparently an amazing place for pictures, considering that I had the photographers in front of me through most of the concert. Early Entry came in after all the M&Gs were done, and GA were let in at 19:00. The concert started at 20:00 sharp.

Miyavi Return of the Samurai Guitarist London Rocking out

Setlist:

   1. Selfish Love
   2. WHAT’S MY NAME?
   3. SURVIVE
   4. Ahead of the Light
   5. So On It
   6. In Crowd
   7. Secret
   8. Cry Like This
   9. Tears on Fire
   10. Long Nights
   11. Under the Same Sky (Unplugged)
   12. 君に願いを [Kimi ni Negai wo] (Unplugged)
   13. Girls, be ambitious
   14. 陽の光さえ届かないこの場所で [Hi no Hikari Sae Todokanai Kono Basho de]
   15. 咲き誇る華のように -Neo Visualizm- [Sakihokoru Hana no You Ni -Neo Visualizm-]
   16. Fire Bird
   17. New Gravity
   18. Bang!
   19. No Sleep Till Tokyo
   20. Horizon
Encore:
   21. 愛しい人 [Itoshii Hito]
   22. Under the Same Sky
   23. The Others
   24. DAY 1

The concert was extremely fun, as it usually is with Miyavi. As the tour is a bit of an anniversary celebration, he sang a lot of his older songs, along with newer ones. He jumped and twirled and rolled on the floor. He also had moments to sit down and a give us acoustics. At some point, one of his guitars malfunctioned and he went “I guess we’re chilling now.” He spoke about his work with refugees and how he does not understand the British accent to save his life – despite having lived in the US for years. He said that he enjoys being in the country where rock was born. He also said that he had played the venue before – his phone remembered the Wi-Fi password.

Miyavi Return of the Samurai Guitarist London, sitting down and talking

We had an improvised song at the beginning of the encore, since the audience requested Itoshii Hito. He remembered it, unlike when he was forced to google Señor Señora Señorita in Barcelona (2019). Despite being visibly tired when he arrived – and according to the Instagram story getting lost in the venue – he gave his all in the concert, and I am grateful for that. He indeed reminds me that there are good things in the world. At the end of the concert, he was given a Union Jack that he wrapped around his shoulders.

20231002 Miyavi Return of the Samurai Guitarist London with the Union Jack bowing

Exit was chaotic due to the problems with merchandising continuing. I would have liked to stay to stay and say goodbye, but I crashed after the concert was over – my headache got worse, and I was really nauseous. I bought some food to take to the room and headed back to the hotel to eat it, take my medication, have a shower, and get rid of the contact lenses. I went to bed as soon as I had finished and, and slept from midnight to around 5:00, when I woke up, vomited dinner – I hope not too much of the medication – and tried to get some more rest. I think I did sleep a bit further, but I’m not sure.

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.

1st – 3rd October 2023: London (England) {Miyavi in London 2023}

Probably three trips to London in a little over three weeks are a bit too much combined, but both Miyavi and Yoshiki seemed to be planning around the same schedules, and their European dates ended up almost overlapping. I have to admit I did consider Paris for Miyavi, but in the end, the conditions on Ticketmaster were weird, and I decided to attend a concert in a country where I spoke the language – and considering Paris’ current bedbug (ew) problem, I’m extra happy I did. There were announcements regarding strikes and problems with trains and undergrounds, so I did not set my plans too hard in stone.

Except, you know. The Return of the Samurai Guitarist, because Miyavi is one of those people that makes you feel that all is good with the world, even if just for a couple of hours.

The concert was on Monday, but I had decided to take a plane on Sunday for cost-effectiveness, and because I was wary of travel issues. I booked one hotel from Sunday to Monday near a major station, and another one for Monday to Tuesday, next to the venue. I made loose plans and I got on my way.

16th September 2023: Archaeological Site of “Los Casares” (Spain)

I took an almost two-hour drive to the municipality of Riba de Saelices, which involved having to fill up the tank in the middle of nowhere – ouch. It was early in the morning, and once I got off the motorway I saw a bunch of roe deer grazing dawn away. A couple of them got spooked by the noise of the engine and jumped towards the road, and another was uncomfortably close to the asphalt, but I was careful not to run any of them over – of course!

I went past the village and took a turn at an unpaved road, and reached the parking spot of the site, 3.5 km later, around 9:10, which was great for my free 9:30 visit. . My main interest in the archaeological site Conjunto Arqueológico de Los Casares was the cave Cueva de los Casares, which can only be visited by appointment and in small groups. Post Covid recovery plans have made some archaeological sites free until the end of the year, and I wanted to visit before the end of good weather. The cave holds important carvings from the Upper or Median Palaeolithic period. However, the site also comprises the remains of a Muslim village, a defensive tower, and an ancient oven, with the latest findings dating from the 14th century.

I found the parking spot – a clearing at the foothill of the area. The whole place was empty except for a kettle of griffon vultures (Gyps fulvus) circling up above. It was a bit creepy, I’ll be honest, and I joked with myself that maybe the webpage for the archaeological site was just the way the vultures ordered food. From the parking lot I saw a small clearing with tables, and up the hill, a small tower, which I thought was the tower from an old Muslim castle. Since I had some time I decided to climb up and I found the entrance to the cave, with a notice that visits started there. By then it was already 9:30 so I thought maybe my ticket was wrong and the winter timetable had already started so the visit was at 10:00. A bit before 9:40 I saw two cars approaching – yay.

Vultures flying

Archaeological site Los Casares: cave, ruins, and tower

Finally, the guide arrived and she told me that the visitors in the other car had lost their way, so she had had to guide them down the track. We started late as the group also took a while to come up. We stayed at the entrance of the cave for a little as the guide explained about the civilisation that inhabited the area in the Palaeolithic, and a bit about the cave bears that used it as a lair before them.

The cave Cueva de los Casares was inhabited by Neanderthals some 60,000 to 40,000 years ago. The stonework and industry have been classified as the European Mousterian; among objects found inside the cave there are flint points, arrow tips, scrapers, and even pottery. Animal remains, both from predatory events and human consumption have also been recovered. The most important archaeological items found in the cave are the carvings on the walls. Though there are carvings from later periods, some experts think that the cave holds the oldest anthropomorphic carvings in the Iberian peninsula – not carved by Homo sapiens (modern humans) but the previous Homo neandertalensis.

Entrance to the cave Cueva de los Casares

Only the first third of the cave can be visited, and we got to see horses, cattle and the human-like figures. Once you know what you’re looking for, it gets easier to identify the shapes. One characteristic about the human depictions of the period is that humans are represented to have weird heads, though nobody really knows why – possibly animal attributes to represent their qualities. The humanoids are represented alone and in groups, and sometimes they are one above another. There are families, activities – such as diving – and copulation (apparently this is important because the carving in question might be the first ever recorded). It is an interesting experience, though no pictures are allowed inside, there are some on the official page – you don’t get to see half of them anyway. I’m disappointed we were not shown any mammoth carvings either, those are restricted to the expert-only area, but at least I saw something, and it was original.

After the cave, I climbed up the gully to the hilltop and the Berber tower – called Torre atalaya (“Watchtower tower”) – which hangs above the entrance to the cave to look at it. On the way up I also had a good view of the Muslim settlement underneath, Poblado Hispano-musulman. I also looked down the gorge and the valley called Valle de los Milagros, which I may or may not hike in the near future in search for fossils. However, I really did not feel like staying at that point, so I just drove back.

Watchtower Los Casares

Muslim village of Los Casares

Valley Valle de los Milagros from above