Something that's become a fundamental part of my morning routine here: going out for a cup of caffeine. Never did it before arriving in Madrid, virtually never do it when I'm back in the lower 48.
It's not just that the local espresso goes down so easily for me. It's everything: getting my butt out the door into the air/light/sounds of the neighborhood. Stopping at the news kiosk in the plaza down the street to pick up a paper, exchange a hello with the proprietor (a large blonde with a friendly smile). Listening to Spanish being spoken all around as I make my way to one of the neighborhood cafeterÃas, absorbing the morning version of the barrio (more normal, tranquil than the evening/nighttime version) -- people walking dogs, chatting in the plaza, heading in and out of the Metro; shops opening, delivery people pushing handtrucks piled with crates of groceries or packaged goods.
I wind up in any one of a bunch of local a.m. joints, but I gravitate toward larger ones, with more people, more noise and atmosphere. I find a spot at the counter or a table with a good view of the place, I order an espresso, maybe a croissant or something more substantial, open the paper, read, people-watch.
Deeply satisfying, all of that -- don't ask why, I'm not sure I can explain it.
I tend to wake up more slowly here, more gradually. Used to be I'd pull myself out of bed, do the shower/shave thing, toss down a substantial breakfast, shoot out of the house in whichever direction I had to go. That's changed. I take a long time coming to now, at least compared to the me of earlier years -- drifting around the flat, maybe making something to eat. Maybe cranking up the 'puter, the radio.