I came to Madrid because I'd heard it was the most underrated city in Europe. I left with an extra kilo of body weight, a permanent craving for jamon iberico, and the conviction that I'd been doing European travel wrong my entire life.
Here's the week as it happened.
Flight landed at Barajas T4 at 2PM. Took the Metro Line 8 to Nuevos Ministerios (4.50 EUR with the airport supplement — would have been 30 EUR in a taxi, and the metro took 12 minutes). Checked into a small hotel in Malasaña, a neighborhood I chose because a friend said it was "like Williamsburg before it got expensive."
I was hungry. It was 3:30PM. I walked to the nearest restaurant. Empty. The waiter looked at me with a mixture of pity and amusement. "Kitchen is closed until 8:30," he said. I'd forgotten: Madrid eats lunch at 2-4PM and dinner at 9:30PM-midnight. The in-between is siesta, and nothing happens.
I found a convenience store, bought a bocadillo and a Mahou beer (Spain's most common lager, perfectly drinkable, 1.50 EUR from a shop), and sat in Plaza del Dos de Mayo watching pigeons and skateboarders until the city decided to wake up.
At 9PM, Malasaña transformed. Every bar filled simultaneously, like someone had flipped a switch. I ended up at a place called Bodega de la Ardosa on Calle de Colon — a tile-fronted bar that's been here since 1892. Their tortilla (6 EUR) is famous, and it deserves to be: golden outside, runny in the center, served on a small plate with bread. I ordered a cana (small draft beer, 2.20 EUR) and watched the bartender pour eight drinks simultaneously without looking.
Dinner at 10:30PM at a place I stumbled into on Calle de San Andres. Three tapas and two glasses of Rioja. Bill: 22 EUR. I walked home at midnight through streets that were still fully alive. Children were playing in plazas. Madrid does not believe in bedtime.
I went to the Museo del Prado when it opened at 10AM (15 EUR, or free Mon-Sat 6-8PM). I'd planned two hours. I stayed four.
Las Meninas by Velazquez is in Room 12. I've seen it in books a hundred times, but standing in front of the actual painting — 3 meters tall, the light spilling across the scene, the artist himself looking directly at you — it's one of those moments where art stops being intellectual and becomes physical. I felt something shift in my chest.
Goya's Black Paintings in the basement are terrifying. Saturn Devouring His Son is violent and raw in a way that reproductions don't capture. These were painted directly on the walls of Goya's house when he was deaf, isolated, and possibly losing his mind. They were never meant to be seen publicly.
Bosch's Garden of Earthly Delights has a permanent crowd around it, but push through. The triptych is massive, and the detail in the right panel (Hell) will haunt your dreams.
I skipped the audio guide (6 EUR) and read the room descriptions instead. Honestly, you don't need explanations. Just stand in front of the paintings and let them work.
After the Prado, I walked through Retiro Park. Rented a rowboat on the Estanque Grande (6 EUR for 45 minutes). Rowed in circles because I have no upper body coordination. Didn't care. The park was full of families, couples, and old men playing cards. I found the Crystal Palace (free, a Reina Sofia annex with rotating exhibitions) and sat on a bench for 30 minutes eating mandarins.
I devoted this entire day to eating. No museums, no monuments. Just food.
11AM: Churros with chocolate at Chocolateria San Gines (since 1894, near Sol). A plate of churros and a cup of thick hot chocolate: 4.80 EUR. The chocolate is thick enough to stand a spoon in. This is breakfast.
2PM: Mercado de San Miguel near Plaza Mayor. I'd been told it was touristy, and it is — but the quality is real. I had three oysters and a glass of cava (9 EUR), a small plate of jamon iberico de bellota (6 EUR for three slices), and a croqueta de boletus (3 EUR). The market is open 10AM-midnight.
5PM: Bocadillo de calamares from La Campana near Plaza Mayor. A fried squid sandwich (4.50 EUR). Crispy, salty, perfect. This is Madrid's street food signature — not pintxos, not paella, calamari in a roll.
9:30PM: The main event. A tapas crawl down Calle de la Cava Baja in La Latina with three people I met at the hostel. Five bars in three hours:
Total spend: about 50 EUR. I was full twice over. This is how Madrid eats, and it's superior to any sit-down restaurant experience.
I almost skipped the flamenco show. "Tourist trap," I thought. I was wrong.
I'd booked Casa Patas (38 EUR, including one drink) based on a recommendation. The venue is a small, dark room with maybe 80 seats. The performance started at 10PM with a single guitarist playing for five minutes before the dancer appeared.
I don't have the vocabulary to describe what happened next. The footwork was violent and precise — heels hitting the wooden floor like gunshots. The singer's voice cracked with emotion that felt too raw for a performance. The dancer's hands moved like they were sculpting something invisible in the air.
I cried. I don't usually cry at performances. But something about the combination of the sound, the intensity, and the smallness of the room broke through whatever wall I usually keep up. The woman next to me was crying too. We exchanged a look afterward that said "what just happened" without words.
If you see one thing in Madrid besides the Prado, see flamenco. Not a hotel dinner show — a proper tablao. Book Corral de la Moreria (49 EUR) for the most prestigious, Cardamomo (42 EUR) for more accessible, or Casa Patas (38 EUR) for raw intensity.
The AVE train from Atocha to Toledo takes 33 minutes and costs from 13 EUR if booked in advance on renfe.com. Thirty-three minutes for what feels like time travel.
Toledo is a medieval fortress city on a hilltop, surrounded by a river gorge. It was the capital of Spain before Madrid, and the old city — churches, synagogues, mosques, and El Greco paintings — is a UNESCO site that actually earns the designation.
The Toledo Cathedral (10 EUR) has an El Greco painting in the sacristy that stopped me cold. The Alcazar (5 EUR) offers panoramic views. The Sinagoga del Transito (3 EUR) is a beautiful 14th-century synagogue with Mudejar decoration.
I ate a lunch of carcamusas (Toledo's pork and pea stew, 12 EUR including bread and wine) at a tiny taverna near the Zocodover plaza. The waiter brought a free dessert — marzipan, Toledo's specialty, shaped like a snake.
Back in Madrid by 5PM. The whole trip cost under 40 EUR including train, food, and entry tickets. If you're in Madrid and don't visit Toledo, you're making a mistake.
I saved the Reina Sofia (12 EUR) for today. Guernica is in Room 206, and yes, it lives up to the hype. The painting is 3.5 meters tall and 7.8 meters wide, rendered entirely in black, white, and grey. Picasso painted it in weeks after the bombing of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War. Standing close, you see the screaming horse, the dismembered soldier, the mother holding her dead child.
The surrounding rooms display Civil War photographs and propaganda alongside works by Dali and Miro. The curatorial decision to place Guernica in its historical context rather than isolating it as "great art" makes the experience deeper.
Free hours are Monday all day and Wed-Sat 7-9PM. I paid the 12 EUR to go in the morning when it was less crowded. Closed Tuesdays.
Afternoon: I wandered Malasaña properly for the first time. Vintage shops on Calle de Velarde. A second-hand bookshop on Espiritu Santo where I bought a Spanish-language Borges for 3 EUR. A vermuteria (vermouth bar) where draft vermut costs 2.50 EUR and comes with a free olive skewer.
Malasaña is Madrid's Shoreditch or Bushwick — creative, young, a little rough at the edges. But unlike those neighborhoods, it's affordable. A craft beer at Fandango is 4 EUR. A full menu del dia at any of the local restaurants: 10-13 EUR.
Last day. I went back to the Prado for the free evening hours (Mon-Sat 6-8PM). The queue formed 30 minutes before. I stood directly in front of Las Meninas again, now knowing something about the painting's construction — how Velazquez placed himself in the scene, how the mirror in the back shows the king and queen, how the whole thing is a meditation on the act of seeing.
I got more from it the second time. Great art does that.
Final dinner at Sobrino de Botin on Calle de los Cuchilleros — the world's oldest continuously operating restaurant (since 1725, Guinness-certified). Cochinillo asado (roast suckling pig, 25 EUR) in the downstairs cave dining room where Hemingway's characters eat in The Sun Also Rises. Touristy? Sure. But the pig arrives on a clay plate and the waiter cuts it with the edge of the plate to demonstrate the tenderness, and the skin shatters like glass. Sometimes tourist attractions are attractions for a reason.
Would I go back? I'm already planning it.
Madrid isn't the prettiest city I've visited. It doesn't have Rome's ancient grandeur or Barcelona's architectural spectacle. It doesn't have Rome's ancient grandeur or Barcelona's architectural spectacle. What it has is better: a way of living that prioritizes pleasure without being precious about it. The late dinners, the standing-room tapas bars, the Sunday flea market that turns into a 3-hour lunch, the way an entire city agrees that midnight is a reasonable time to go out.
I came for a week and left wanting a month. For the practical details, check out our complete Madrid guide. For the other side of Spain, don't miss Seville.
That's Madrid.
| Category | My Average Daily Spend |
|---|---|
| Accommodation | 85 EUR (budget hotel, Malasaña) |
| Food & drink | 40-55 EUR (tapas crawls, no fancy restaurants) |
| Transit | 3-5 EUR (metro + walking) |
| Activities | 15-20 EUR (museums, some during free hours) |
| Daily total | 145-165 EUR |
