One year in Madrid
- Jamie Clark
- Mar 4
- 8 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
Madrid by Day
It’s early morning. The partygoers are asleep, and the sun rises over the city. It's quiet.
Madrid, with its dry heat and altitude, is always crisp and cool in the morning, a refreshing contrast to the intensity of its summer days.
The early risers are out, ready for their 'pincho de tortilla de patata' and 'café con leche'. They walk into the bar, and the waiter shouts “Buenos días!” - a greeting you’re expected to return with equal passion.
Orders are taken, coffee is poured, and the rhythm of the morning begins. In the background, the clatter of plates and cups fills the room, adding to the adrenaline and speed of breakfast in Madrid.
The actual eating component is slow, but the energy around breakfast is fast.
Madrid is the capital city, and it has preserved its Spanish cultural dominance.
Here, the Spaniards set the pace, and the expats follow. This, in my view, has resulted in a far more natural social cohesion with foreigners. There is little friction. The local-expat dynamic feels fluid and integrated.
It’s an international city by nationality, but when you look around, there’s never any doubt about where you are. This is Spain.
Moving to a New Neighborhood
In July 2024, I moved from my apartment in Barrio Salamanca to a new one near the Prado. I needed a frying pan. At a small shop, a gentleman named José Carlos greeted me with enthusiasm.
He walked me through different surfaces, materials, styles, explaining in depth the nuances of each pan with SO much passion. I hadn’t really planned on buying a pan there, I was just doing some market research, but his seemingly authentic love for it made me want to buy it. Perhaps I am naive, but it felt real.
At the end of the transaction, when I mentioned I was new to Madrid, he smiled and said, “Aquí estás bienvenido” , or “Here, you are welcome.”
A few months later, I ran into him again and I told him how great the pan was. He smiled and said, “No es la sartén, es la persona que cocina en ella”, “It’s not the pan; it’s the person who cooks on it.”
A slightly paradoxical reflection on his part, perhaps, but his warmth encapsulates the sentiment that I feel in the city.
A City That Remembers
One morning, I stopped by a café and ordered un agua con gas - a soda water. I drank it, paid, thanked the waiter, and left without a second thought.
Around a month later, I returned to the same café. Before I could say a word, the waiter looked at me and said, “Un agua con gas.”
I was stunned. How had he remembered my order after all this time?
Small moments like these makes a city feel like home.
My Morning Commute
From my apartment, I walk ten minutes to Cibeles to catch the 9 (direction Hortaleza) or the 51 (direction Plaza Perú) bus.
The bus is busy with commuters, mostly lawyers and finance professionals, judging by the suits and the multiple phones they juggle in their hands. Then come the families, small children heading to El Cole with their parents. And finally, the abuelas, making their way to their morning coffees.
One morning, a little girl got on the bus and greeted the driver with an enthusiastic “Buenos días!” Her mother followed suit, they clearly knew each other from a previous commute. The child was buzzing as she made her way to her seat.
Ten minutes later, as they got off, they called out to the driver, “Adiós!”
Then, to everyone’s surprise, the driver switched off the bus, stepped outside, gave the little girl a fist bump, then climbed back in and restarted the bus. I watched as the little girl crossed the street with the biggest smile on her face.
I get off at my stop, at IE Business School. Now, Patagonia jackets are out, vapes in hand, AirPods in. The corporate world of Madrid begins its day.
Social
The crowd is well-dressed, sophisticated, deeply engaged in their world. Many here enjoy explicit wealth and affluence; many are playing the game.
There’s a certain elegance, but also a quiet sadness, like they’ve convinced themselves this is the path they should be on, even as they count down the days to their summer holidays, which, undoubtedly, they’ll have plenty of money to enjoy. The tired eyes shows this.
More than its coastal counterparts in Spain, I believe Madrid openly values wealth, class, and affluence. Here, you show it off more.
Madrid isn’t a city of democratised fun. You have to pay for fun. In coastal cities, you grab a picnic blanket, a couple of sandwiches, and with €10, you can have a pretty great weekend.
Madrid, by contrast, is more a city of haves and have-nots*.
*But when benchmarking against other European cities like Paris and London - Madrid is far more financially accessible to all people.
It’s integrated, but its greatest challenge will be ensuring it remains fair, equal, and just. Keeping salaries for locals competitive with those of expats is key to preserving its magic.
I tell these stories to share the charm and connection I’ve found here, but also to acknowledge the wider context, one that will need to be supported by its local community.
Madrid By Night
It’s approaching 6am on a Sunday morning. I’m on Gran Vía after a big dancing night at my favourite nightclub, Lula. I am looking up at the fluorescent lights of the main buildings, shining bright. I glance down at street level, a group of boys in suits and girls in dresses walk past, engaged in fiery, drunken conversations. The energy is alive.
I start walking. A café is open, and, well, I’m pretty hungry, so I step inside. I can’t tell if they’re just opening or if they’ve been open all night, it’s hard to say. But they serve alcohol. So... yea...
The smell of it lingers in the air, and the café is packed. Big groups sit together, lost in passionate conversation, like old friends who haven’t seen each other in years, even though they have spent all night together.
The sun begins to rise. Slowly, groups start hugging, saying their farewells. It might be time for sleep. The city is packed with these groups, everywhere.
As the night owls drift away, the early risers take their place: those up for a morning coffee before a walk or a run. A shift in rhythm, but the city adapts.
Let’s rewind eight hours. It’s now 10 p.m.
I am crossing Madrid to go meet some friends.
Laughter and lively conversation fill the air. As I walk, I pass the terraces, every seat is fought over, occupied by both teenagers and grandparents in their seventies (at least). They sit side by side, bound by the same love: socialising, friendship, intimacy - and, of course, cañas (beer). Kids kick footballs like crazy, often knocking over people’s glasses, which is usually met with laughter. But not always.
I see queues spilling around the corners of local theatres, late-night galleries, comedy shows, the city is buzzing. It feels like a theme park of life, joy, and connection. Whatever you’re in the mood for, Madrid will deliver.
Have never seen experienced anything like it.
Football
Every weekend, the Santiago Bernabéu and the Metropolitano roar with passion - a minimum of 70,000 fans filling the stands, chanting, singing, living every moment.
And then, at least another 70,000 who wish they could be there, watching from bars, plazas, and living rooms, hanging onto every pass, every goal, every heartbeat of the game.
Madrid doesn’t do football halfway. The scale is massive, the atmosphere electric. Whether it’s football, a music festival, or a street parade, people don’t just attend, they arrive with energy, ready to celebrate, to experience, to lose themselves in the moment.
And quick shoutout to Madrid’s public transport - which is fast, efficient, and reliable, weaving through the city like veins pumping life into its streets. The metro, the buses, the late-night taxis, wherever you need to go, the city makes it easy.
To Madrid
As the peeps over at OpenAI would recommend me say 'here's to another year in Madrid'.
But no, I will just say wonderful city and keen to keep it going.
Also, I stumbled upon the coolest chess park ever. Below is bonus reading!
P.s. - The Chess Park
For those of you who have visited Madrid, you’re likely to be familiar with Retiro Park.
It is considered a must-see on any visitor’s itinerary, offering a peaceful escape from the urban intensity of the city. Its gates, which shut in the late evening, create a natural divide between the serenity of nature and the lively streets of the city.
Retiro really has something for everyone. Scattered throughout its grounds, you’ll find areas for tennis, football, tai chi classes, dance sessions, and, of course, the good old classic picnic.
And on one of my visits, I stumbled upon something I hadn’t expected. As I wandered towards the heart of the park, there, tucked under the shade of some trees, I noticed a small hut surrounded by people playing chess.
Inside the hut sat an older man - Italian - as I later learned, calmly overseeing the flow of players coming and going with chess boards in hand.
“How much does it cost to rent a board?” I asked.
“Free,” he replied with a shrug. “Just bring it back.”
I thought this was wonderful. With a smile, I picked up a board and found a table nearby, feeling a bit awkward as I set up the pieces alone. The dynamic felt like it could be a high school prom, waiting for somebody to ask you to dance.
Minutes later, my wait was over. A man approached and asked if I wanted to play. His confidence was unmistakable, but I was equally keen. “Of course!” I said, thrilled to begin my debut match at this charming chess spot.
I lost in five minutes.
But it didn’t matter. What struck me was the sense of camaraderie that everyone showed. Every day, people gather here armed with cans of beer and a love for chess, to play until the sun sets.
The unwritten rules of the place are simple. If you’re sitting alone, someone will likely approach you for a game. Or, if you’re feeling bold, you can do the same. No phones, no distractions, no other dynamics.
Nearby, a group of musicians often busk for passing tourists, providing a soothing soundtrack to the games being played, even if it would be more nice if they had a couple more tracks in their arsenal. It’s a scene that feels like stepping back 50 years, to a simpler, more connected world.
Chess, a game that has been around since the 6th century, continues to bring people together across time, culture, and context.
I’ve included a map showing where it’s roughly located in the park. But I won’t make it too easy for you, you’ll need to discover it for yourself, just as I did.
AI Usage In This Article: All photos are taken on my camera, and article is written by me, with small usage of ChatGPT for grammar checks.