Spanish Nights and Pigs Ears

September 15, 2011
We had just left the Via Grande Metro stop when the incident occurred.  It was a crowded car, and we were clutching the upright rails as the car lurched through the vast labyrinth of tunnels beneath the city. In the last car where we were a muscular young man of about two meters tall and ninety kilos pushed his way brusquely through the car, the smell of alcohol on his breath. His face was swarthy, and he was muttering something. Claudette said he was demanding money.  As he moved to the back of the car, I said to Claudette. "Let's get outta here." She gave me a quizzical look as I pried her hand from the rail and led her forward. "But..." she started to say.

"Hey," I said," nothing good ever happens when drunks start making demands."  As I looked over her shoulder the big guy was accosting a young black man demanding money in a loud voice.  I pulled Claudette forward as she said, "He has the poor guy down on the floor hitting him. "

"Better him than us," I say as the train stops. We hurriedly exit the metro and notice a security guard waiting. He is much smaller that the men that are fighting and we don't wait around to see the outcome of the confrontation  but exit to Plaza Mayor into the festivities of Madrid after dark.

Most of the day had been spent in museums and now we were ready for some relaxing "wander around" time. According to the guidebook there was a place nearby where one of the local delicacies, fried pigs ears, were available. I know, I know, this sounds a bit strange, but when in Spain... The Metro stop was directly in front of one of our favorite bakeries but at nine o'clock at night we wanted something different. The plaza was crowded with people out for the evening, not particularly going anywhere in particular, just strolling about. The street vendors had their goods spread out on bed sheets on the ground, sunglasses, leather goods and other smaller items for sale. It appears that the vendor can make a hasty escape if need be by grabbing the corners of the sheet and running. Probably some of the merchandise has changed ownership recently without exchange of currency.  There is also some sort of demonstration or rally of about a hundred people going on.  We don't get involved.  We are accustomed to this sort of thing and have seen it in other European cities. There always seems to be a group protesting or demonstrating. Street entertainers abound on the plaza as well as the side streets. There are opera singers, string quartets, guitarists, folk dancers and a man playing water filled glasses! We enjoy the festive atmosphere but can't find the restaurant which sells the fried pigs ears.  We enjoy a meal of tapas with jamon, the cured Spanish ham.  Later, we had our desert of chocolate and churros. Churros are fried extruded bread dough that you eat after dipping in small cups of extremely thick hot chocolate. This could be my desert of choice...at least in Spain.

It had been an exhausting day of museums, sightseeing and wandering around. Oh, yes, and a fight on the metro too. Time to head for our hotel, only two blocks from Plaza Mayor. Did I mention that Plaza Mayor is mile zero for all roads in Spain?