Well, I was wrong. On further exploration there are bitumen roads, wider and straighter than New York, lots of bikes, runners and walkers, exercise group in one section, yoga in another, little hide-away areas with play areas, buskers, a woman playing the guitar to mothers with prams, a dog and anyone who wanted to just listen. There was a musical temple, a huge pond in front of a huge hothouse that looked like a 5 star roomless hotel, magnificent, fir trees that grow in water, a modern art gallery, small bridges carrying us from one delight to another, small innocuous coffee houses and trees, trees and more trees, a smorgasbord for an arborist

We take a different street each day towards the park, each one with its special charm and particular type of tree lining the street, with their great ranges of Spanish delights. Love the way you get a free tapas with a drink, helping yourself to further tapas (reaching between others who are deeply engaged in talking but who know, this is Spain) as you wish and being trusted to pay for them when you leave.

We were warned against the dreaded Madrid heat, hasn’t been over 25 and even so there’s always shade in the close streets.

Wife shopping, back typing I’m getting excited about my little book, I hope a publisher feels the same way

a little hideaway


Señora at the temple of music


exercise class




here I come, up my purpose built ramp


taking a peek


musical prams


walking, talking and watching