We'd finally arrived in the land of Cervantes, and on our first evening stroll through Madrid, we came across the bard's statue, next to Quijote (1) and Sancho Panza. While I tried (and failed) to get the perfect picture, an older man chatted up Drea on a park bench. When I joined them, I found the man to be quite friendly, and he talked about his five children, some of whom were in the park then. He asked if we had any brothers or sisters, and I said, yes, I have a fifteen-year old brother, and Drea chimed in that she had two sisters. The man said we looked quite young. Only hours later did we realize that we'd said we had a fifteen-year-old son, and two daughters, respectively. Whoops.

Internet cafes abound in Madrid, although the most popular chain has an obnoxious proprietary browser with banner ads. I emailed my favorite Spanish professor back in the states, asking for recommendations of places to visit, and he replied that he'd been preoccupied trying to sneak his cat into the hotel the last time he'd visited, so he didn't have any suggestions. Apparently the neighborhood cats were teaching his cat how to meow in Spanish.

Laundry (2) was always a big deal. Much celebration and lathering (3) ensued whenever we were in a city long enough for our clothes to dry, so our three days in Madrid were great. Our detergent of choice was also our shampoo and body wash of choice, the Garnier Ultra apricot baby shampoo we both adored (see the two bottles on the toilet?). Our dueña even showed us the laundry line - such a joy to have dry clothes in a few hours! Like I said, laundry was a big deal.

I've decided that the person who chose the paint scheme inside the Prado is my new hero. Each room looks into two others, and each group of three is painted in a fading-progression of sage or rose or pumpkin or some other Martha color. We saw Velasquez's original Las Meninas, which was profound after previously seeing Picasso's many interpretations of the piece in Barcelona. Later, we strolled through the (4) botanical (5) garden (6) adjacent to the Parque de Buen Retiros, which was far superior to the one in Valencia.

Our guidebook mentioned three vegetarian restaurants in Madrid. The first night we tried "El Estragón Vegetariano," a fantastic place with free water. (Your standards change a bit when you're abroad.) The second night, we walked across town to restaurant #2 in the book, only to find it closed. No problem, we intrepid travelers will just stroll to restaurant #3. It's just another half hour away. Of course, being August, that one was closed, too, so we dragged our tired bodies back to El Estragón. Since the food the previous night had been fantastic, we were a bit more adventurous with our choices this time, only to find the tri-colored phlegmy vegetarian "pie" rather barfaricious. Oh, well.

Highly recommended: the Café Mama Inés, a gay coffeeshop across from our hostel on the Calle Hortaleza. Simple, cheap breakfast. Fabulous cappuccinos. Tasteful décor. Dancehall music at 10 AM.

Next: San Sebastian is yummy . . .