The Plane in Spain

• September 23
• September 24
• September 25
• September 26
• September 27
• September 28
• September 29
• September 30
• October 1
• October 2
• October 3
• October 4

September 24

Velasquez at the Prado

Today started very late. We didn't sleep that well last night because of the concert. Immediately after the concert (shortly after midnight), workers began breaking down the stage very loudly. The concert was part of a much larger event with dozens of venues throughout the city. The truth is, I did sleep, and today I had some energy. We're trying to adjust to the Spanish schedule.

Today so far, has been mainly walking. We started with brunch at a cafe (Colby) next door, then we set out for the Monchoa Train Station to catch a bus for El Escorial. We missed the bus by eight minutes. So we quickly devised Plan B and headed off for the Prado. El Greco and Goya, wow. The Prado has definitive collections of both. We spent about two hours in the museum. Actually, the most striking painting was a Dutch painter's rendition (we don't know who) of the beheading of John the Baptist. It was a long mural in a very narrow room. All of the characters are dressed in stunning 17th century garb. Many are looking directly at the painter. John's head is being served to Herod. A girl is dipping her finger in the blood on the trencher.

The executioner is off to the far right of the picture over the headless body. He's smiling and talking with onlookers, leaning on his sword, all in a day's work. A young child is in front in court garb looking at the painter. Many of the people at court are engaged in their own conversations, hardly aware that anything has happened. It's as if John's execution is just another (not very important) part of the banquet. The horror of the picture is that this scene has no horror. There is no drama here. It's just a head on a plate, please pass the vegetables, oh, and a little salt.

We went back to the hotel room for a brief nap, then on to dinner. We went to a vegetarian restaurant, Artemis, on Calle Tres Cruces. Stay away from the fried croquettes, but the eggplant, spinach, and brown rice were excellent. Ron was pleased. Brian was pleased. Happy was full.

We got back to the room around 12:15 a.m. Brian and I decided to go out. We had seen a sauna and a couple of bear bars yesterday, but this evening we missed the bears completely. Instead, we found the LL Bar just off of Calle Figueroa. It was after 1 a.m. and packed to the rafters. I have to say, many beautiful Spanish men hang out there. Fabuloso! I think it's their clothes, their haircuts, their style, and their size. These people are trim and fit, and smoke like chimneys.

LL Bar after sunrise

LL Bar advertises itself as a (gay) stripper bar that is "elegant and discreet." It's correct on all three counts. I got Brian and me drinks. Travel Tip: if you ask for a whiskey and soda, you'll get a glass of whiskey, and the bartender will ask you what kind of soda you want.

With drinks in hand, Brian and I settled in to watch the drag entertainment - a lively singalong. The drag MC was a riot. This is when I wish I knew some conversational Spanish. Then this guy dressed like a thug (ski mask, cami, etc.) gets on stage and does some disco rap (badly). He pulls a guy up on stage and pulls out a very large weapon - pretends to put on a choke hold, holds the gun to the guy's ass, well you get the idea. He pulls off his ski mask, then his jacket. The thug is totally ripped. If only more thugs would look like this.

He strips, but drapes himself with the Brazilian flag. I know it's the Brazilian flage because I recognize the Southern Cross. I am so thankful for all the trivia crammed in my brain. He plays with himself, teases us with a good look at his gay apparel. It curves nicely to the left, quite in keeping with my political sympathies. The man is certainly a goodwill ambassador. We all want to go to Brazil. He ends with an improvised scarf dance, artfully draping and strategically sliding the flag over his stunning body. Elegant and discreet, just as the bar promised.

I should mention on the way to the bar, a rather drunk and good-looking guy grabbed a hold of me, groped me, and tried to get me to go to the sauna. I pointed at Brian and said "Boyfriend," but evidently not convincingly. He left me at the steps of the bar with very mixed feelings, and not a little horny. At least he wasn't a pickpocket....

George the Dragon Killer