Tag Archives: solo travel

8th September 2024: Dinosaur FOMO (Guadalajara, Spain)

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Whenever I’m reasonably close to dinosaur stuff, I have to check it out, I just can’t help myself. About a year ago, I attended DinoExpo XXL in Guadalajara, which turned out to be rather disappointing. Apparently, the town hosts dinosaur exhibits in time with the yearly festivals – they must be profitable. I read about Dinosaurs Tour (or Jurassic Expo, according to the banners), and I thought I would skip it, but in the end… in the end I just had to go and see it, because the Fear of Missing Out was strong. Maybe this time over it would be cool…

The exhibit was small, and while some of the models were correctly covered with feathers, a few were mislabelled to conform to the popular imaginary (way more of a cash cow than anything scientific). The usual suspects were Tyrannosaurus Rex, brachiosaurus, pachycephalosaurus, iguanodon, parasaurolophus… For some reason, there was a stegosaurus half climbing a tree, and a few Jurassic Park inspired reproductions: questionably-represented dilophosaurus and too-big velociraptors. Something new was a sarcosuchus, a giant crocodile ancestor. Oh, and something I was completely unable to identify… like a diplodocus with a beak and spikes… Maybe it tried to be a homage to Littlefoot?

Dinosaur Tour Guadalajara

The lights made everything look weird, too, because there was a lot of colourful – pink, blue, green – lighting which made it for a very disco-like atmosphere. It was not a big or good exhibit – not even the toddlers were extremely impressed, but as I said: Fear Of Missing Out gets the best out of me when it’s about dinosaurs. Next time though, I’ll try to get over the FOMO, because I think they’ll just bring a wall lizard and call it a Velociraptor.

27th August 2024: Arganzuela Greenhouse, British Cemetery and a ‘palaeontological site’, Madrid (Spain)

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I have been feeling dizzy on and off these last few months, so I’m avoiding long drives – that has left me dependent on public transport, which is not too reliable. Thus, instead of all the hikes I wanted to take, I’ve been doing day trips to Madrid.

My first stop was in the district of Arganzuela. Although I’ve been to Matadero a few times before, I had never wandered to the side, where a boring-looking metal roof peeked over some trees. I recently discovered that I should have ventured beyond the brick walls that close the Matadero area. This building is called Arganzuela Crystal Palace Palacio de Cristal de la Arganzuela, and is an example of the wrought iron functional architecture of the early 20th century.

Invernadero de Arganzuela - structure

The building was designed by Luis Bellido y González and erected between 1908 and 1928 as a vegetable warehouse. In 1992, the building was remodelled – the wrought iron structure was consolidated and the original fibre cement panels were substituted by glass ones. The warehouse, 7,100 square metres, was divided into different sections, each one transformed into a different greenhouse: two for tropical plants, one for subtropical species, and the last one for desert plats and cacti. The centre has four long fountains with tiny sprouts and waterfalls. I expected a few plants to be in second bloom, but apparently that does not work for tropical or desert species?

Invernadero de Arganzuela - inside

I then hopped onto the underground towards the district of Carabanchel, where I could visit an unusual place – the British Cemetery Cementerio Británico de Madrid. Around 1854, the British government bought the terrain with the intention to turn it into a cemetery, since during that time Catholic cemeteries did not accept interments from other denominations.

The burial ground hosts about 600 graves and about 1,000 tombs, most of them British citizens – but there are also Americans, Germans, Swiss and French, even some Spanish. Though it is now closed to new burials, in the 20th century it was open to non-Christians. Inscriptions on the markers are in Latin, English, French, German, Hebrew, Cyrillic and Spanish. Some of the people buried here include part of the Georgian royal family, historian Alice Bache Gould y Quincy, members of the fashion family Loewe, photographer Charles Clifford… There is also a memorial to the American soldiers who died in a plane accident. There is only one pantheon, belonging to the Bauer family – owners of an important commercial emporium in the 19th century.

British Cemetery Madrid

I have to say that the charm of a Victorian cemetery fades more than a little in the middle of the Spanish plateau’s scorching summer. Though there are several artistic markers – ever-present angels, a couple of tree trunks, and a very gothic grave – most of them are simple headstones with a cross or just a name. One of the graves asked a good question: If good things lasted forever, would we appreciate how precious they are? All in all, it was a quaint little cemetery that felt slightly out of place in the middle of Madrid.

Afterwards, I went back into the underground. The cemetery is a couple of stops away from Carpetana. On the connection, I got checked for a ticket, sort of – they were controlling that passengers had a valid ticket, and just as the train was arriving they waved me through, maybe not complaining about it and just looking for the card made me trustworthy or something? (For the record, I did have a ticket). Anyway, I reached my destination in about 10 minutes or so. When they were working on the Carpetana underground station, they found a few fossilised bones and jaws, and they have turned it into another of the spots of Museos de Metro de Madrid – palaeontological site Yacimiento Paleontológico de Carpetana. I saw reproductions a few mammal jaws and took a picture. Good thing I was close, this would not have warranted a trip from further away.

Reproduction of the prehistorical habitat of Carpetana

I had a reservation for late lunch, but I decided to cancel it. I wanted to check a shop for something I needed, and that would take me in the complete opposite direction from the restaurant. Instead, after the shop, I grabbed a Matcha Frappuchino and headed back to the train station to return home.

Starbucks Matcha Frapuccino with a lot of whipped cream

8th August 2024: The Museums in Moncloa (Madrid, Spain)

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It’s quite hot out there, but I decided to hit a couple of museums in Madrid. A few months back, I got a card for the national museums, thinking I was getting a better deal than I did. Though it is true that you can get enter (most of) the national museums for free, you have to ID yourself, so you still have to queue, which is what I was expecting to avoid. However, it has at least pushed me to try and see a couple of museums I would not really visit (or even be aware of!) otherwise.

There are two museums in the district of Moncloa-Aravaca, an area I’m not usually around. One, I was curious about. The other is one I would not have even considered without the card: the Costume or Fashion Museum and Ethnographic Heritage Research Centre Museo del traje. Centro de Investigación del Patrimonio Etnológico (CIPE). It is a collection of pieces of clothing, textiles and accessories from the 17th century onwards, and I’m sure it is amazing if you know anything about fashion… which I don’t. The museum is organised chronologically, with a few pieces from the Middle Ages, then fabrics, costumes and complements since they became a thing.

There is also a collection of traditional outfits from different regions throughout Spain. The visit finishes with some of the big names in fashion, including Coco Chanel, Balenciaga, or Christian Dior. There was also an area for visually-impaired visitors, which allowed them to touch mannequins and fabrics from different style periods in history.

Costume and Fashion Museum Madrid

They were running a temporary exhibition called Vistiendo un jardín (Wearing a garden). It deals with the nature and flowers in fabric and costumes from the Baroque period onwards. They were in the middle of a guided visit so there was a big group, and I could only have a quick walk.

Wearing a garden Temporary exhibition

I walked over to the museum of the Americas Museo de América. The institution exhibits archaeological and ethnographical artefacts from the Americas, alongside art from the Palaeolithic period to the present, with a strong presence of Colonial art.

The origin of the collection was the Royal Cabinet of Natural history that Charles III had established in 1771. The collection increased with objects brought from discovery expeditions and Spanish colonies in America, especially those unearthed during archaeological excavations. In 1815, the science artefacts from the cabinet were integrated into what became the National Museum of Natural Sciences, and in 1868 the antiquities, ethnography, and art were transferred to the Museum of Archaeology. In 1941, the American artefacts were transferred to the newly formed museum. A more recent source has been that of donation and legacies.

Nowadays, the collection comprises around 25,000 artefacts and about 2,500 of them are exhibited – though the most important ones are copies due to “conservation issues”. The archaeological artefacts include Mayan, Inca, Aztec, Nazca, Amazonian, and even from North American native cultures who lived in what we now call the Great Plains or Alaska. The Colonial art pieces mostly include religious art and what is called pintura de castas, which tries to represent the appearance and daily life of the peoples of mixed race, descendants of European, African and Indigenous inhabitants of the colonies. There is also a ward dedicated to modern art and social criticism against colonisation. I found the organisation of the museum a bit strange, by theme areas instead of time-and-place.

Artefacts from the Museum of the Americas

Arguably, the most important group of pieces that the museum exhibits is the so-called Tesoro de los Quimbayas (Quimbaya Treasure). The Quimbayas were a small indigenous group from precolonial America, who lived south of what is now Medellín, Colombia. They were known for their works in gold and an alloy of copper and gold called tumbaga. The treasure comprises 122 pieces, which represent about one fifth of the original findings. It is believed that the belonged to two sets of grave goods, and dates from the 5th or 6th centuries CE. The treasure was dug up during the Colombian gold fever, when archaeological items were sold for their weight in gold. The artefacts include figures, crowns, jewellery (nose- and ear-ornament, necklace beads, pins, pendants), containers, ceremonial vessels and poporos (used to keep coca leaves for religious ceremonies), and musical items such as bells.

Quimbaya treasure

I actually had been thinking about staying in Madrid and do something else, like the observatory known as Faro de Moncloa, which is literally next to the Museum of the Americas. Or a nice themed restaurant or something. But it was ridiculously hot and I just did not feel like it. It was early for lunch too, but by the time I got anywhere cool, it would be right in the middle of the rush. So I just went back into the transport system. Of course, the train was delayed. I need to stop planning around the official train schedules, especially around food times…

27th July 2024: Staying inside in Madrid’s heat (Spain)

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I was so excited when I found tickets for the historical hall at Pacífico station that I did not stop to think I had booked for late July, at 16:00, in Madrid. The heat wave was an extra, but even without it, the Spanish central plateau is not precisely known for its mild summers. However, the hall only opens once a month, and not every month, and I had never been able to find a ticket on a weekend I could go, so honestly – when I saw these tickets, I did not think about the weather, just… that I could come.

The day came, and Madrid had a heat alert. It was around 37 ºC, and I thought I would stay inside, and just head out for the visit. Unfortunately, since trains are being horrible, I needed to take one with at least an hour’s berth to make sure I reached the underground station Estación de Pacífico. When I arrived, I looked around to finally realise that the hall was at the actual platform, warded off by a very modern nondescript door. I had brought a book to pass the time, because I knew I would either have a lot of time, or I would be stressed because the train was late. I found a bench and settled down to wait somewhere I could keep an eye on the door. Visitors are not directly admitted into the hall, but they are cleared at ticket control on the other side of the platform, then go back all the way to the entrance. In our case, we waited for a bit, and the guide decided to head through the platform right as a train arrived, so everything was full. Spanish logic.

The former hall Vestíbulo de Pacífico is part of the network of Underground museums Museos de Metro de Madrid. Until it was walled off in 1966, it was the entrance to the station Estación de Pacífico, built in 1923 when the underground Line 1 was extended towards the south-west. The passengers climbed down a now-disappeared staircase and crossed the hall, which still had natural light. On the other side, there was some sort of metallic bridge with another set of stairs to access the platforms.

The station used to be part of a huge complex owned by Metro, which also comprised offices, control rooms, and the warehouse that housed the engines that created energy for the trains to run on. At the time, it was an unpopulated area, so land was cheaper. Today, most everything has been replaced by apartment buildings and only the station and the nearby Nave de Motores remain.

The whole complex was designed by architect Antonio Palacios, and the hall was built in white tiles with blue decoration – a homage to the Pacific Ocean, which gives the station its name. The hall is tiny by today’s standards, barely 119 square metres. It has three vaults that used to have skylights for the sun to light up the hall – now those are closed off as the street above them is busy. The station was renovated in the 60s so it could accommodate the longer trains, new accesses were built, and the hall closed down. That renovation was the same that made the station Estación de Chamberí close, and apparently another hall that has been uncovered in Ventas.

The hall was bricked away for almost half a century, until restoration work started in 2007. It took ten years, as budget was low and the process was labour intense – 60% of the hall had to be rebuilt. However, the final product is really good, you can see the newer tiles if you look for them, but the whole thing feels extremely well preserved. Even the staircase, which was built to access the hall after the iron bridge was destroyed, feels time-appropriate. A replica of the original doors was put up.

Pacífico Booking Hall

And right when I have seen all the five Underground museums that require appointment… I find out there is a passport of them – Pasaporte de Pasaporte de los Museos de Metro. Just my luck! Then again, maybe Metro will take these articles as proof of visit and backstamp me for them?

The visit took about one hour, then I rode the underground back towards Atocha, and bypassed it to the next station. I had decided to try my luck with the queue at modern art museum Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, part of the national network of museums covered by my card. To be honest, I do not enjoy modern art that much, so I have been putting off this one visit. However, the museum holds a piece by Pablo Picasso that has become quite socially loaded – Picasso’s Guernica, which I have always thought I ought to see at least once.

Pablo Picasso (1881 – 1973) is considered one of the most important artists of the 20th century. He was co-inventor of collage, co-founder of Cubism, and inventor of the assemblage (basically, collage in 3D). He painted, sculpted, and made prints, ceramics and theatre sets. I have never connected much, if at all, with the kind of art he was making. I do not really understand the limits he broke, nor whatever he wanted to express. That is why I wanted to see this artwork in particular – to try to understand.

Arguably Picasso’s most famous painting is Guernica (1937). During the Spanish Civil War, German planes bombed the Basque town of Guernica, in the north of Spain, to aid the Nationalist army. The town was destroyed, and up to 300 people lost their lives – the raid opened the northern front for Franco to reach Bilbao. British reporter George Steer wrote a scoop on the event after he witnessed the destruction, and his reports made waves internationally. Picasso, who lived in France at the time, had been commissioned a piece of artwork for the Paris World’s Fair by the Republicans (at the time the rightful government of Spain). Upon reading the news, he scrapped his original idea and painted the Guernica instead.

The painting is one of the most important artworks that the museum has. It is a huge piece, in black and white, showing the carnage. As most men were out in the battleground, the majority of victims were women and children – along with a dead soldier, a horse and a bull, most of the figures in the pairing represent women and horror. I honestly find the description of the painting more chilly that the artwork itself.

One kind of feels that the museum itself as built as a huge sarcophagus for the Guernica, and other pieces are there just to fill up the space. A sculpture by Eduardo Chillida is exhibited in the gardens. There is also a space about architecture, with blueprints and photographs, including artwork by Le Corbusier. Other artists whose work is shown include Salvador Dalí, Joan Miró, Alexander Calder… Actually, I enjoyed the museum more than I thought, as I expected only abstract art that I would not understand. I enjoyed the blueprints and photographs of buildings, and the actual building too.

Exhibits at Museum Reina Sofía

I then headed up Paseo del Prado to find one of the local cultural centres. I was ridiculously amused when I reached the corner where CaixaForum stands. I was on my phone, and when I looked up, I saw the Patagotitan “looking” at me. It gave me a laugh.

Patagotiatan at Caixaforum

The cultural centre Serrería Belga is running a Japan-themed exhibit, divided in parts:

  • Kinpaku. Naturaleza, poder e imaginación en el arte japonés (Kinpaku: Nature, power and imagination in Japanese art): Kinpaku [金箔] refers to gold leaf artwork, often used in decoration in classical Japanese culture. A private collector has lent their items to exhibit – windscreens and fans, all painted in gold, so they can be enjoyed by everyone.
  • Kimono, identidad cambiante: un siglo a pie de calle (Kimono, changing identities: a century on the streets): Kimono [着物] is the traditional Japanese clothing – one that unlike many others is still common wear. There were twenty of these, including accessories.
  • Expokon: A series of panels discussing different hits in sports manga and derivatives.
  • Japan International Manga Award: Panels drawn by the Spanish artists who have won the awards in different years.
  • Kamishibai: Kamishibai [紙芝居] is (was) a form of Japanese street theatre using a small paper theatre with pictures to tell the stories. There were several sets of stories, some classical, some more modern.
  • Manga Kids Academy: A few panels showing Japanese school life through manga and anime.
  • Itadakimanga!: A series of panels showing different foods popular in manga and anime.
  • Gêmu: cultura visual y videojuego japonés (Gēmu: visual culture and Japanese video games): Some items regarding video games, and even a few arcade machines for playing.

Japanese exhibits at Serrería Belga

The exhibits were part of Madrid’s summer cultural program, which has named Japan “Guest Country”. They were a few cute little exhibits, and they were free too, so a good way to complete half a day trip. I headed back to the station afterwards, to wait for whichever train came, and I was lucky enough that one was there in a couple of minutes – I even found a good seat on my way back.

And I have finally seen the hall at Pacífico, which has been a goal since April 2023. Now I just have to figure out a way to obtain the passport and have it stamped…

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

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

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

Restaurante Bestial by Rosi La Loca

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

Patagotitan skeleton in front of CaixaForum Madrid

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

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

Patagonian Dinosaurs

Patagotitan front and back legs, along with a huge shoulderblade

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

La Ciencia de Pixar

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

Interior of Edificio Gran Vía 32

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

Madama Butterfly Promo

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

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

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

Cast:

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

Artistic team:

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

Madama Butterfly Teatro Real

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fountain Caños del Peral

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

Sewer at el Arenal

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

Section: Viaje de Amaniel

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

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

Teatro Real: stairs and interior

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

Carmina Burana Promo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Artists after the Carmina Burana Show

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

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

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

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

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

Horniman Gardens with the City in the background

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

The Horniman Conservatory

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

Dinosaur revolution

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

Horniman athropology museum

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

Horniman Aquarium

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Borough Market

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

Southwark cathedral - outside and nave

Southwark Cathedral details

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

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

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

The Old Operating Theatre and apothecary

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

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

National Gallery London

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

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

Coco Curry Leicester Square

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

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

The church of St Martin in the Fields

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

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

Kamijo The Anthem poster

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Snippets pre and post Kamijo's The Anthem concert

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

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

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

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

Old Royal Naval College from across River Thames

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

Greenwich foot tunnel

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

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

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

Old Royal Naval College chapel

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

Old Royal Naval College - Painted hall

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

Snapshots at the V&A museum

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

Burlington house

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

High-end London shopping arcades

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

15th – 17th June 2024: London for Kamijo’s “The Anthem” {London, England, June 2024}

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I first saw Kamijo in Barcelona in 2018. The reason for that was that tickets came through around my birthday and neither them nor the upgrades were expensive, it was easy to get there, and I thought I would support a V-kei artist in the country. I was not expecting to like him as much as I did – it probably had to do with the brief interaction we had when he “sang” to me. The next year, I joined the fanclub and attended two shows of the Persona Grata Japan tour with a fanclub ticket. Then Covid struck and I just let membership lapse, because there was little disposable income and even less chances to make anything out of it.

At the end of 2023, Kamijo announced a new Europe tour, and I weighed out France or England. I decided on London due to easier language, worry about the Olympics creating issues – price gauging, controllers’ strikes – and because the French fandom can be too intense for me. In February, I rejoined the fanclub with a cheaper “four-month web membership” so I was able to access the pre-sales on the 19th. I managed to buy a “VVIP” ticket, which included first priority entrance, a meet & greet, a solo photo and a signed poster for 152 €.

I checked for planes and accommodation. Flights were okay, but hotels were stupidly expensive. In the end, I could not find anything reasonable in my usual areas, so I decided to just book two nights at the closest hotel I found near the venue. It was still stupidly expensive, but I thought it would be convenient. When I had time, I checked for stuff to do, bought a few tickets, and just a couple of days before leaving, I had a credit-card scare. Because what would a trip be without a hiccup? But I needed a mental break, and this long weekend was it…

Thus, I was off to London.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Snaps from The Art of Manga Madrid

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

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

Museo del Romanticismo Madrid

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

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

Snaps from Museo Sorolla

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

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

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

Museo Arqueologico Nacional Madrid

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

Afternoon tea at El Jardín de Orfila

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

Sparrow hopping towards a scone crumb

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

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

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

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

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

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

Exhibit entrance, protoceratops, corridor

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

Archaeopteryx, titanosaur

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

Tyrannosaurus rex replica

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

Titanosaur, therizinosaurus, eggs, deinonychus

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

Concavenator fossil and reproduction

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

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

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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)

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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)

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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)

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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)

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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 reach 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 enthusiasts – 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 the parade Tradicional Desfile de Botargas 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 “marking” the onlookers with black smudges. 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.

24th January 2024: Williams & Zimmer by the Hollywood Symphony Orchestra (Guadalajara, Spain)

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I had a good day planned, but it turns out that life sometimes does not go as one wants, so in the end the fun part of it was reduced to attending a concert in the theatre Auditorio Buero Vallejo in Guadalajara. The Hollywood Symphony Orchestra was touring Spain with a repertoire of film soundtracks by Hans Zimmer and John Williams.

Williams And Zimmer promo

The Hollywood Symphony Orchestra (HSO), from Los Angeles, comprises some musicians who record original soundtracks for films. Originally just a recording orchestra with works dating back to 1953, from 2006 they hold concerts and radio broadcasts. Today it is dedicated to perform “live to picture” concerts, playing live music in synch with the original material from the film. I think it would be really cool to watch a whole film with them playing the score!

However, this is not what they brought this time. It was more “snippets” of films with a remix of the main themes. The “Best Cinema Music” La mejor música de cine comprised several pieces by probably two of the most famous composers ever.

John Williams was born in 1932 and is still considered “an active composer and conductor”. Since his career started in 1954, he has been nominated for an Oscar 54 times, and he won five times – Fiddler on the Roof, Jaws, Star Wars, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial and Schindler’s List. Hans Zimmer, a German film score composer and music producer, has been “only” nominated twelve times, with two wins – one for The Lion King and another for Dune. But he is more than 30 years younger than Williams, so I guess there is still time. Both of them have written film music I enjoy a lot (along with Howard Shore and Jerry Goldsmith), so I really wanted to go. I was even ready to brave the awful Guadalajara crowds and head to the theatre there.

The whole concert lasted about two hours, in two parts with one interlude, and two pieces of encore – a total of 15 songs. The director was not introduced, but he looked nothing like the main director that the HSO webpage introduces. As set up, the orchestra was on stage and behind them, a screen showed scenes from the films whose soundtracks they were playing. They were not too well planned, though, because most of them had to run a time and a half before the music piece ended. I like this set up though, because it gives me something visual to look at while the music plays. For me, it is perfect – it is the same thing they’ve done before at the Final Fantasy live concerts.

Setlist:

Part 1
  1. Main Title from Star Wars (Williams, 1977)
  2. The Lion King soundtrack medley (Zimmer, 1994)
  3. Superman Main Title Theme (Williams, 1978)
  4. Schindler’s List Theme (Williams, 1993)
  5. Pearl Harbor Suite (Zimmer, 2001)
  6. Now We Are Free, Gladiator main theme (Zimmer, 2000)
  7. The Raiders March, Main theme of the Indiana Jones films (Williams, 1982)
Part 2
  8. E.T. the Extra-terrestrial main theme (Williams, 1982)
  9. Main Theme from Jurassic Park (Williams, 1993)
  10. Molossus, Batman Begins main theme (Zimmer, 2005)
  11. Hymn to the Fallen, Saving Private Ryan main theme (Williams, 1998)
  12. Harry Potter Main Theme (Williams, 2001)
  13. He’s a Pirate, Pirates of the Caribbean main theme (Zimmer, 2003)
Encore
  14. Imperial March from Star Wars: Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back (Williams, 1980)
  15. The Raiders March, Main theme of the Indiana Jones films (Williams, 1982).

Hollywood Symphony Orchestra standing in front of an Indiana Jones photogram

All in all, the day did not pan out as I had planned it, but it did have a bit of an epic ending, and I was glad that I managed to squeeze the outing. I did miss hearing the theme of Jaws, but I got Jurassic Park, Pirates of the Caribbean and Indiana Jones. I have to admit that The Lion King was way intense (hello, inner child!). And I did not like the Gladiator film, but the rendition was epic. Most of it was. Except for E.T., which felt a bit too long, I thoroughly enjoyed the performance. A great way to end a not-so-good day.

Hollywood Symphony Orchestra in front of a Star Wars poster

Edit in January 2025. It seems this was not the Hollywood Symphony Orchestra at all, but a group of musicians impersonating them. During the 24/25 tour, the performance so bad that there were complaints and musicians got sacked and quit left and right. This rendition was good, to be honest, but I feel ripped off. Isn’t this fraud, technically? The reports of what happened in 2025 are surreal, with the ensemble impersonating two different orchestras for different repertories. Note to self: never trust promotor NK Prodarte.

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

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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)

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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…