Madrid: Two days like this (Day 1)

With open arms we stood in the centre of Madrid surrounded by grand buildings, those metaphors of power that stand so strong yet so detached. It was a weekend away; a city-break in the capital but above all it was a trip to see Elbow perform.

The weather was dull, clouds clung close to rooftops throughout but we were in good company and did not walk the earth alone. Our hotel was bordering on plush and we threw those grand curtains wide in our bedroom and were graced with the bustle of milling Madrileños and tourists in Puerta Del Sol.

Sat around jugs of pale beer come the late afternoon with friend SB from Jerez, and a couple of lovely lads from Essex who were accompanying her. As promised I wrote one of them a limerick.

A flat-capped man, hard to contain
Was on his way to Southern Spain
He liked a long chat
‘till he bought a prickly hat
That itched away at his brain.

Garlic prawns and sweet, heavy red wine at Casa Del Abuelo for AB and I before into white taxis we bent - SB with a bottle of Rum in her handbag - to the Elbow concert in Palacio Vistalegre at about 9 p.m. The gig was exceptional, the sound was quality and subsequently our heads were reminiscent of mirrorballs upon exit.



Back in the centre around about midnight we dodged rain showers, uttered lost words, stood surrounded by Angels and drunks and admired glistening pizza in neat little rows before tiredness pulled us to bed. The poetry of getting ruined.