Woke up this morning with part of a David Bowie tune running through my head.
Oh, don't lean on me, man, 'cause you can't afford the ticket
I'm back from Suffragette City....
Why that tune? Why that bit of lyric? No idea. Haven't heard any Bowie music in a while, haven't even heard his name mentioned since... can't remember. A while ago.
Not a bad tune, as tunes go. But I decided I didn't want rattling around in my teeny brain for ever and ever. Pulled myself out of bed, showered, shaved. Stumbled outside into a seriously cold morning, temperature around -6C. Possibly the coldest daytime temperature I've experienced here.
Was out with friends a couple of nights ago, in a barrio not far from here. An Italian joint. This being Madrid, dinner didn't start until just before 10. (Good antipasta plate, good salad. So-so pizza. Killer tiramisu.) Stepped back out into the street around midnight, a few stray snowflakes falling around us as we pulled collars up, pulled on gloves. (A days back it snowed all day long, from morning to night -- first time I've ever seen that here. Nothing stuck, but it sure looked beautiful.) I expected to ride a bus back home, discovered after pacing back and forth at the bus stop for a few minutes that buses on the routes I'd need stop running at 11:30. Got feets moving, arrived home 20 minutes later -- cheeks red, ears tingling, hair acting wacky from cold weather static electricity. Since then temperatures here have slowly, steadily dropped. A friend in the U.K. said it snowed all week up in that part of the world. Yee-ha!
This morning, after picking up the paper I directed myself to one of my preferred wake-up places. Spent a little while coming to, courtesy of chow and caffeine. Returned home, have remained inside since then. Wearing thermals and warm socks, 'cause the windows in this flat are hilariously inappropriate for this kind of weather. The old single-pane, wood-frame, full-length-window doors that open in from the teeny balcony let in so much breeze that the curtains billow in and out. A blanket stuffed along the bottom of the doors has taken care of some of that. All radiators are going at full throttle, further clothing will be pulled on as needed.
There's a reason the sidewalk tables outside café disappear for a while in Madrid. Now and then winter decides to remind the local world exactly what winter weather is supposed to feel like.
And as I write this, snow is coming down once more. Sticking, this time -- around an inch of accumulation so far.
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Storefront, off hours -- Madrid::
España, te amo.
rws 2:34 PM [+]
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