Plaza de Vazguez de Mella

From Valencia, we travelled by fast train to Madrid, the Spanish capital and most populous city, with a population of around 6.7 million. Before we even left the train station in Valencia, Jason had set up his own tuckshop/canteen, with a sandwich production line, buttering breadsticks and man-handling Iberian turkey meat to create our homemade bocadillos for the trip. At least we won't stave for the two-hour journey.

Our accommodation was located smack bang in the middle of Chueca, the trendy gay neighbourhood of Madrid. Our studio apartment was perfectly situated for spending hours people watching. And that we did. In fact, I think we both need to see a chiropractor to iron out some of the kinks caused by so much rubber necking. Jason likened us to the cantankerous, but, I might add, much more youthful, Statler and Waldorf from the Muppets, perched up high looking down on the crowds and passing judgement.

The apartment had all the mod cons. To enter the building and the apartment, we needed to use an app. It took a few goes to work it out but we got there in the end. I’m still not convinced that this is more convenient than a traditional key, by the time you open the app and try to log in. And don’t get me started on the beeping stovetop. Every time something was left on top of the stove, it would let out a screeching beep. The smart TV was so smart that it decided it didn’t want to work. Or maybe it had gone on holidays like the rest of Spain. But it was a nice (and very white) apartment. Trendy doesn't always equate to practical though.

From tuckshop/canteen lady, Jason transformed our trendy Chueca apartment into a cheap laundry mat, with all kinds of apparel strewn everywhere.

After the household duties were taken care of, it was time for dinner and a night out on the town. Actually, one night turned into another and then another. I'm fairly certain our livers are screaming out for a detox, and the bags under our eyes could be packed for a weekend getaway.

The intermittent partying was punctuated by meanderings through Madrid (along with a little bit of sleeping and eating). Some days, we just wandered without purpose, going in whichever direction took our fancy. We revisited some of our favourite places from our previous trip to Madrid, five years ago, such as the Plaza Mayor and el Centro. No matter the adventure, it generally ended with a re-stocking of essential beer and sangria supplies.

This theme continued into the evening as we tried the local delicacies on offer at the surrounding restaurants. One night we rolled out the apartment door and across the road to the Greek restaurant. We then rolled back home with our gullets and tummies full.

The next morning, I got an update from Jason on the additional weight he had gained overnight from the shared dessert plate that I ordered. Pinching some loose skin, he said it was my fault he was no longer beach-body ready. It’s not like I was Alicia Silverstone force feeding her child or a bird feeding its chick. He freely participated in the gluttony without any coercion.

To shed some of those extra kilos though, we walked to the Royal Palace, the largest functioning royal residence in Europe. The opulence and grandeur of the palace is astonishing. Only the Elon Musks of this world could afford to build anything like this now. And the Spanish were only able to build this through raping and pillaging other countries, stealing the wealth for Spain, and leaving the colonies without. It’s interesting how we glorify all of the buildings in Europe, but this opulence was the result of colonialism, from stealing from other sovereign states.

The meanderings through Madrid continued on our final day, as we fueled ourselves just enough so that we had enough energy to swipe our credit cards to purchase a few souvenirs and do some shopping. The woman in the souvenir shop sporting a two-tone grey mullet and ponytail was a “fashion highlight” for the day.

We got to the end of the week and for the life of us never worked out why people were touching the agave plant outside our apartment. We began to think that it had magical powers or healing properties. Random people would walk past and grope the plant, sometimes in an unsettling manner. I guess that mystery will never be answered.

Oh, and the Jason’s Lost World tally now stands at 4.

Next stop: Seville.Read more