Parque del Retiro

Today felt good! Ben and I finally made it over to Parque del Retiro, a big park less then a 20 minute walk from our apartment. Today was a perfect day to go, it was hot in the sun, and a perfect temperature in the shade. We got there at about noon, and ended up spending the entire day there. The park is massive, you could walk all day in there and still have things to do the next. A portion of it is French style, but the majority is much more open and natural. 

 

The statues in the park are amazing, more dynamic than most monuments I have seen. The fountains are also impressive,variety of styles, from traditional Greek themes, to geysers.

It's made of money and bones...

 There are a few buildings in the park, that contain art exhibits. We went into one that had some modern installations, most of which either freaked me out, or greatly annoyed me. I really didn’t like them. The Crystal Palace which usually contains art was preparing for its next installation, so we weren’t able to go in. It looked beautiful empty, so I look forward to coming back when it is full of art. 

Ben and I knew we wanted a break from the hustle of the city, and packed our lunch, books, and cameras for the park. We like many of the other visitors, took a lovely siesta on the soft grass. It was very rejuvenating to be removed from the sounds of traffic, pedestrians, and street vendors. 

In the park there were many fantastic musicians. There is an outstanding level of musicianship in this country, and it is a treat to be able to walk through a beautiful landscape, while listening to outstanding musicians.

Memorial for the March 11th victims

Hasta luego Parque del Retiro!

Fiesta in San Sabation de los Reyes

Ben and I went to another celebration this weekend. This one was just outside of Madrid, in San Sabastion de los Reyes. This celebration was even more impressive than the others, there were tons of rides, tons of food, and lots of drinking. This celebration was in preparation for a running of the bulls, on Saturday morning, but we did not make it to that part.

It was more of a commitment to go to this celebration than the others because once we were out there we couldn't return home until the trains opened at six in the morning.
Ben and I had a great time. I was in awe of how unlike America the festival was, people were walking around with booze, getting on rides you could clearly injure yourself on, and dancing in the streets.

You could win a leg of Jamon!

My favorite of all the unlike America rides were the bumper cars. Instead of forming a line and waiting until an attendant told you which car to enter. Everyone waited until most of the cars stopped, and then it was a free for all to get into a car before they started crashing into each other again. The bumper cars went way faster then the cars in the states, which meant the crashes were much more intense. One of the times we were hit, I fell most of the way out of the car. I have bruises from the ride, but I would definitely go on it again. Spaniards don't really scream on rides, and not at all in the bumper cars, but my (American) friend and I couldn't help ourselves, every time we were about to crash, we would start screaming. Once the other riders noticed our disproportionate responses to the crashes, we became the targets, which was both fun and terrifying.

Pablo Neruda

I have a confession... I don't like poetry. I enjoy beautiful prose, poetic descriptions, but as a whole I don't like poetry. I think this came from years in school of having to read PG poems, with forced rhymes, and a traumatic memory of having to recite a Shel Sylverstin poem in front of many people. When I am forced to read or listen to a poem now, I have to force myself to keep my brain from disengaging.
I can't say I had ever been moved by a poem, until I came across the works of Pablo Neruda. I get it now, the romance, the pain, the beauty in the form of expression. I get the value of a poem. I can listen to his poems read over and over, and enjoy them every time.
His words memorize me, and capture my imagination in profound ways.
Here are some of his poems read by wonderful voices.

Walking Around Read by Samuel L. Jackson

Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines:

I am aware that Pablo Neruda is Chilean, not Spanish. His poetry is widely known worldwide, but as his native language was Spanish, people are more familiar with his work here. His poems devastate me in an artful way that keeps me coming back.