“What mountains?”, I asked myself.
Early 2005, and my brother had described to me his new flat
in Madrid. Before Facebook, before
Skype, I think it must have been in an email, or even a letter, the contents of
which I can scarcely remember. What
stuck in my mind was his mention of the mountains he could just about see from
the terrace. That was the moment that
the story of my relationship with Madrid began, long before I arrived suitcase
in hand in April 2012.
I just didn’t expect there to be mountains (the Sierra de
Guadarrama) just outside Madrid. In my
mind the mountains of Europe ran across the middle through Switzerland and
Austria, down into Italy and along the French/Spanish border, dividing the
countries. I didn’t know how high up
Madrid is, elevated over 600m above sea level on the mesita that occupies the centre of the Iberian peninsula. I didn’t even know that I didn’t know these
things, never having particularly given a lot of thought to the place.
Nine years later, I still feel that I don’t know the city
that well, but when I think about that moment it does make me realise how dramatically
the extent of my ignorance has shrunk. I’m
sitting in a Madrid suburb on the day of my departure trying to reflect on the
time I’ve spent here, attempting to call to mind the way things were in order
to get a clear idea of how things are.
Objectively speaking I know my way around well enough, I suppose –
having had an endless stream of visitors I know every inch of the tourist beat,
and the main areas of the city centre are comfortingly familiar. I even eventually dared to drive in the city,
and oddly enough it didn’t end in disaster. I still feel a little lost from time to time
though.
Here are those mountains I mentioned, by the way:
But how do I best sum up two years? With lists?
Places I’ve been but not in the blog
Sierra de Guadarrama (on various occasions)
Salamanca
Barcelona
Cordoba/Sevilla
Merida/Badajoz/Elvas
Sierra de Gredos
Madrid bars visited
I’m not even going to try…
Nope. Too dry. It
doesn’t tell any kind of story, just highlights how poorly I’ve documented all
this.
How about considering how well I’ve completed my
objectives? Did I really set any? My Spanish has got to a functional level, at
least. I have managed to get through two
years, however, without even the most incidental involvement in any project
actually IN Spain. If that doesn’t tell
you the depth of la crisis for the
construction industry I don’t know what would drive it home. Understand the culture? Getting there, but I’m only just now
beginning to feel able to watch the television and read the paper with a meaningful
level of understanding. That remains a
work in progress.
The trouble with attempting a conclusion, of course, is that
it isn’t really over. Just as my
association with this place began long before I came here, so it will continue
after my departure. As well as my
brother here, now I have exponentially increased my links to the place (you
know who you are!) and have a work-related excuse to continue returning. I may even manage to fit in the occasional
blog post. Fin.? Not remotely.
