City Living: A Primer

Madrid offers an intensity of experience that was foreign in my small town upbringing. The Madrid neighborhood I lived in had ten times the populace of the city where I grew up. The tallest house amongst all my friends had two stories; in Madrid I lived on the fifth floor of a twelve story building. At home we shopped at a local supermarket; in Madrid we bought bread daily and we shopped at separate fruit, meat, and general goods shops. At home my parents owned multiple cars, in Spain I had none.

As we went about our business we could hop aboard a bus, hail a taxi, use the metro or we could just go for a walk. I had been walking since before I was one but I had to relearn much of what I thought I already knew. I quickly noted that unlike home I was not the only person out on the street. I didn't have to go far to buy a bar of bread, just down the elevator and two doors to the left. But even in the early morning people were hustling along the sidewalks.

At home I could day dream as I walked. In Spain I had to pay attention, even during those rare moments when the streets were nearly empty, like during the midday siesta. When I first found myself walking the city during one of these breaks I eased into a less purposeful gait and admired the incredible city around me. The architectural richness that blended 18th century architecture with modern skyscrapers was a wonder to behold. Suddenly, I felt a drop from the sky. Had I been so distracted that a missed a storm cloud on what I thought was a beautiful day? No.

Turns out that many Spaniards would hang their laundry out to dry from their balconies, many of these balconies fronted the streets. So it was worth the effort to look for puddles on the sidewalk and not merely step over them, but to go around and avoid the drippings from above. While the color and design of the buildings and the beauty of the people were more than enough to capture one's attention there was one other tremendous reason to pay attention to where your feet met the pavement.

When I ask people about Spain and what they imagine they often reply with classic answers about the art of Velasquez, Goya, Dalí and Picasso, the beaches of the Mediterranean, the white houses and red-tiled roofs of southern Spain and the fantastic and varied cuisine. One thing no one has ever mentioned is the dogs. There are more dogs in Madrid, per capita, than any other place on earth. Actually, I have no basis to make that claim other than the number of times I had to dodge certain piles on the sidewalks.

I will always encourage anyone to visit Spain, and Madrid in particular, but take heed to walk quickly and with eyes on the ground.