We know each other since a long time… so long that sometimes I forget to miss you. I guess it’s true what they say about routine killing relationships, and I needed a new spark. Anyway, now that I am back, now that I’ve discovered new streets, new trees, new music, new markets and faces, I also come back to you.
To your streets and alleys, to your faces and cheeks, markets and rhythms, that are, now I admit, like no other. I came back to re-discover you, to be impressed about the little common things and all the new ones that change with you.
So many come to you and get amazed, and many more the ones that leave you, and come back repentant because nothing tastes like you. And meanwhile you, always there, possess the art of travelling through the singers at Plaza de la Cebada on Sundays, with their steamy guitars, until the top of Vallecas hills, that calmly and proud, stare at the noise from afar.
You have the ability to rock me between the shadows, those projected gently in summer on top of the green fields, of your parks. Like El Retiro, in the middle of the concrete, hiding crystal palaces, little rivers and some benches along the paths. You hide chaos underneath, the one that connects all your corners. Metro of labyrinths and contrasts, where we wring out ourselves to begin the morning yawning.
You, that know how to be generous with all those shipwreck survivors that search for shelter at your doors, with all those many others that fulfill your streets when the sun goes down, when they are filled with life and the Corredera Baja de San Pablo is just one big party where the words and music get mingled in the air.
"I came back to re-discover you, to be impressed about the little common things and all the new ones that change with you."
And in winter you dress up with your coat, the cozy one, and you enjoy afternoons by the warmth of a good coffee, a concert at Siroco, or by some churros and chocolate at San Ginés, in the underground hall with no service, where you get absorbed by another age, and I imagine my grandparents sitting there, long ago, looking at each other shyly. Realizing of how little elegant a date like that can be when you’re trying to impress somebody.
I love to be impressed by you, and discover an isolated poem, dedicated forever in some wall, to whoever wanting to make it his own. And the cocktails from up high, from where you can observe the roofs and life’s delirium some meters below. I adore getting lost through those terraced roofs, and look up when I am below.
And I feel lucky to be part of you. And yes, the sea is somewhere far away, but who cares. Who cares, if we have stars, and artists, and sunsets from the Templo de Debod, and Gran Vía, with it’s lights and its life. The beer and the wine, and the tapas, the authentic ones. When I was far away I missed taking my bike and fearing for my life between the cars and up and down the hills. And the fresh breeze when you get off of a club at 5am wanting to breathe from crazy dancing.
And I missed the way you change with new mentality, with new projects, galleries or new cafés. And getting excited of how much you have to offer.
We’ve gone through a lot, and even though not everything has been easy, we, the cats, we keep meowing. Now that I am back I realized that even if we are apart from each other, we, Madrilians, natives or adopted, we will always remain Madrilians wherever we go.
And even if we don’t pay attention when we walk down the Tirso and its façades, not even stopping to admire the violinist at Argüelles metro station, or the skaters piruettes in front of the Royal Palace, you, Madrid, you will always be with us, leading all our madness and laughs, our maxims and opinions.
And me, I will probably run away somewhere again, I will get thrilled with the unknown, but you will always be by my side, and I will always miss you.
- Marta -