More than ever, I've been skipping the airport lounge and heading straight to the gate.
06.12.2023 - 10:11 / nytimes.com / Ernest Hemingway
Few challenges are as complex in Madrid as finding a cat. Not the animal, but a — someone who was born in Madrid, whose parents and grandparents were born in Madrid. Nobody in Madrid was born here: You’ll seldom be asked where you are from, because the assumption is that you’re from somewhere else, although suspicion — and prejudice — can come up when you have a certain accent or skin color.
I was not born in Madrid, but I am from Madrid. When I think of the books that have been written about the city, the thread that unites them has to do with the gaze — and the experience — of those who come from elsewhere to forge their identity here: that feeling of looking for a place of one’s own in a city that is difficult, often hostile, and that refuses to be reduced to an ideal.
But Madrid, of course. The city of the open-air theaters where the medium was reinvented during our Golden Age. The city in whose cafes Leandro Fernández de Moratín, Ramón Gómez de la Serna and Gloria Fuertes all talked about literature — unfortunately not at the same time, though what a discussion that would have been! The city of the Generation of 1927, where Federico García Lorca, Lucía Sánchez Saornil and Vicente Aleixandre began their careers. The city that was also Rubén Darío’s, Gabriela Mistral’s and Juan Carlos Onetti’s, no matter that they hailed from another continent. The city where Carmen Laforet, who was born in Barcelona, and Ángela Figuera Aymerich, from Bilbao, wrote. “The Capital of the World,” as Ernest Hemingway called it in his short story, which takes us back to the months before the Spanish Civil War.
No one has portrayed Madrid with greater intensity than Benito Pérez Galdós. Part of his 46-volume, Balzacian series “National Episodes” takes place here; from it, I’d choose a choral novel that discusses the way the city constructs its social classes, and vice versa. Camilo José Cela’s is also a good choice, teeming with hundreds of characters who cross paths in the Madrid of the early years of Francisco Franco’s dictatorship, for which the author worked as a censor. To get to know those who live in Madrid, you must also read a gorgeous novel by Carmen Martín Gaite about daily life in the city.
I have a weakness for the play by Ramón María del Valle-Inclán. In it, we spend almost 24 hours with the poet Max Estrella, reflecting on the decadence of Spanish society in the 1920s (in general, reflecting on the decadence of Spanish society in any era is one of Madrilenians’ obsessions). The play mentions many places that still exist: the chocolate shop in San Ginés, the mirror-lined Callejón del Gato (Cat Alley). I would also recommend an autobiographical novel by Rosa Chacel that takes place in the streets of a
More than ever, I've been skipping the airport lounge and heading straight to the gate.
If you're flying anywhere this holiday season, it's a good bet you'll spend some extra "bonus dwell time" in an airport terminal. Or three.
A version of this article originally appeared in Condé Nast Traveler España. This article was translated and adapted from the Spanish by John Newton. The Mandarin Oriental Ritz Madrid is one of our editors’ picks for The Gold List 2024.
In a surprise move, the Norwegian Competition Authority has approved the acquisition of Norway’s regional carrier Widerøe by Norwegian for 1.1 billion kroner ($107 million).
Marriott Bonvoy and Celebrity Cruises are teaming up to give away a dream cruise to a lucky winner.
Travel from a remote snow-covered station high on a mountain plateau, through a lush valley packed with astonishing views, remarkable tunnels, and powerful waterfalls, down to a picturesque fjord-side village nestled beside classic Norwegian fjord landscape all in less than one hour. This is what awaits you on Norway’s incredible Flåm Railway.
By American standards, the holiday season starts early in Europe… Halloween isn’t traditionally celebrated here, and Thanksgiving doesn’t exist, so Europeans start thinking ahead to December in mid-October.
The 21st edition of Art Basel Miami Beach is now in the books – a whirlwind week of parties, dinners, DJ sets, brand collaborations, product launches, restaurant openings and, fortunately, great weather. But at the center of it all, of course, was the art – presented in every form all throughout the Magic City.
“Sometimes you have to do things you’ve never done to get to places you’ve never been.” These are the words of wisdom offered by our mountain guide, Espen Minde, as we take a break from climbing 1,000 metres on skis up an unnamed peak in Norway’s Lyngen Alps. Something, indeed, I’d never done before. We’re also climbing straight into a blizzard. Normally, in conditions like these, I’d have turned back or maybe not even set off in the first place. But Espen, being a Norwegian mountain guide, isn’t put off by driving snow, howling winds and zero visibility. And as our group — comprising six other skiers — has every confidence in Espen’s years of experience touring these wild, often unnamed mountains, we plough on.
Streets in Madrid could be shut down due to overcrowding in the city centre.
The season of mittens and hot chocolate is upon us and if you’d rather spend a tranquil afternoon beside a fire than brave the crowds at a big ski resort, these snowy getaways are for you. Picture yourself in a luxury treehouse in the woodlands of Vermont, or a quiet cottage in the Catskills, or a retro motor lodge near Grand Teton National Park. Consider a new boutique hotel in Rhode Island from which you can tour Gilded Age mansions trimmed for the holidays. Or check into a statelynewcomer in Germany and browse Christmas markets in places you thought existed only in fairy tales. From Bavaria to Wyoming, winter wonderlands await.
I hold up a glass of rosé the colour of the setting sun. It’s summer in a glass, with fresh strawberries on the nose and ripe fruit in every fizzy sip. Vines roll into the distance, bees hum drowsily, the hills look parched. As I sit on the terrace at White Castle Vineyard in Monmouthshire on a scorching June day, it feels like I could be in the South of France. It seems to me the least Welsh of settings.