Christmas, Come Hell or Highwater

I am writing this as I wait on hold with American Airlines.  This is a favor I am gladly doing for my mother-in-law, who is obviously a most unfortunate holiday traveler, as you will see from this post.  A lesson from the Almighty?  Or just a good ole fashioned cluster-fuck?  You, dear reader, can decide.

Zoë's family – Mother (M), Sister (S), Brother-in-Law (BIL), and Adorable Little Nephew (ALN) – were to join us for Christmas in Madrid.  S and BIL were quite anxious during the week leading up to their departure, because they really did not know how ALN would handle the rigors of transatlantic travel, to Europe no less!  M, meanwhile, was blasé about the whole thing, since she regularly travels to Kenya on trips that involve not just lengthy flights, but overland travel in jeep-like conveyances over dusty roads into remote areas.  The great irony here is that S, BIL and ALN arrived without incident, stroller and pack 'n' play included, while M was cast by the Furies into the traveler's Hell that is also known as Heathrow Airport.  

Day 1 - Having arrived the day before, S, BIL, and ALN were ready to stroll around, have a great lunch, and start getting to know Madrid.  We at "El Fogón de la Abuela," a mom-and-pop restaurant near the Kid's school that makes great croquetas and roasted meats.  M was stuck in a flea-bitten hotel near Heathrow, hoping that they would be able to de-ice planes the next day and get her out of the UK.

Day 2 - More of the same.  Those of us in Madrid were busy discovering how lovely the city is at Christmastime.  The downtown area is decked out in Christmas lights.  There is an enormous electric tree in the Puerta del Sol.  The Plaza Mayor hosts a Christmas market.  We went to the Chocolatería San Ginés to enjoy the best hot chocolate in Madrid, while people at surrounding tables burst out in Christmas carols.  M befriended the random selection of hapless unfortunates who were also stuck in the flea-bitten hotel and tried to scrounge a half-decent meal at the local pub.

Day 3 - In Madrid, more strolling.  A visit to the Prado, where BIL was delighted to see Bosch's Garden of Earlthly Delights and S was thrilled by Goya's Semi-Submerged Dog.  M, meanwhile, paid an outrageous amount of money to a British cabbie to get to lovely Lutton, England, where the airport was up and running, and where she would be able to catch an Easyjet flight out to Madrid the next day.  The hotel in Lutton was equally flea-bitten.  At least it had food, such as it was.  The place close to Heathrow had run out.  

Day 4 - In Madrid, still more strolling about.  A trip along the Gran Vía, culminating in hot chocolate at the overpriced but lovely café of the Círculo de Bellas Artes.  And, finally, in the evening . . . TA DA!!!  The glorious arrival of Zoë's Mother, after a delay of 5 days!!!!!!!!  And how much snow did they get in England?  10cm!!!!!  For the metrically-challenged among you, that is less than 5 inches.  The busiest, most important airport of the capital of what was once the almighty British Empire was utterly paralyzed by fewer than 5 inches of snow.  Wusses.

Day 5 - All together at last!!!  M wanted to go to the Reina Sofía, Madrid's wonderful modern art museum, and we went, because obviously we were going to do whatever she wanted.  She loved the museum, particularly its centerpiece, Picasso's Guernica, and we loved sharing it with her.  We had lunch at a local cheap-eats place, El Lacon, where the chipirones a la plancha (sauteed cuttlefish) were just fabulous.

It was the Kid's birthday, so that night we enjoyed ponche de yema, a type of cake, from the Mallorquina, Madrid's best bakery/pastry shop. 

Day 6 - December 24th.  The big day.  For those of you unfamiliar with Christmas traditions in the Latin world, Christmas Eve is the big celebration, not Christmas day.  We had ordered prepared food from El Corte Inglés, Spain's biggest department store.  For a surprisingly affordable cost, we got lobster bisque, mushroom-stuffed turkey, sauteed mushrooms, and an apple tart.  We added a salad and mashed potatoes, and - voila! - dinner was served.  Well, except for a little incident where we thought that the oven in M's apartment was not working . . . but we solved that.  After dinner and presents, M and I went to midnight mass at San Ginés, one of Madrid's most beautiful and historic old churches.  The beauty of the setting almost made up for the pathetically mechanical mass.  No choir.  No singing.  A priest who seemed like he'd been roused from his bed to say mass, and was eager to get back.  At the end, they did something called "the Adoration of the Child," which involved having everyone line up to kiss the foot of a little statue of the Christ child.  My mother-in-law, a Protestant, was stunned by the idolatry of it all.  I got a kick out of the priest's reassurance to the congregation, "To make this go faster, we have two."  Two Christs, that is.  God forbid that anyone spend any more time than absolutely necessary in church!!

Day 7 - December 25th.  We got together at our house to consume something we had bought at a nearby bakery the day before, with no real certainty of what it was.  It was a baked good, shaped like an anguila (eel) biting its own tail.  It had frosting and came with candied fruit.  It was clearly a special treat, and a sweet one, so we wanted to try it.  The Kid especially, since he is particularly fond of sweet treats.  As it turned out, these anguilas are made of cabello de angel (angel's hair), which is a type of candied squash. That's the filling.  The outside is marzipan, one of the greatest foodstuffs known to human-kind.  I think it's meant to be eaten as a dessert, but we ate it as a breakfast, largely because we had confused it with these other things they were selling at La Mallorquina, called roscos de Navidad.  It was unbelievably sweet, particularly when paired with the candied peaches, cherries, and pears.  By this morning, we had eaten the whole thing.  

Day 8 - Farewell BIL, S, and ALN!!  They flew out this morning.  ALN proved to be a hardy traveler.  He adjusted to the time change with no problem, and was all smiles and giggles about 90% of the time.  He also learned a new trick, napping in his stroller, which we all hope will stick upon his return to the US, since it is very liberating for parents when their 14-month-old does not have to nap in his crib all the time.  

The rest of us went to Toledo, where we had a magical day.  A Toledo trip was what the Kid had wanted to do for his birthday, but we weren't able to because: 1) M had arrived the night before and we had all gotten to bed late; and 2) the Kid had woken up in the middle of the night to vomit all over his bed.  But, it ended up being for the best, because it was rainy on his actual birthday, but sunny on the day we actually went. We took the train, and managed to see both of the medieval synagogues, the little 1000-year-old mosque, before having a superb lunch at the "Taberna Alfileritos." We had a rice dish, some duck spring rolls, roasted lamb and venison, and a wonderful chocolate dessert.  Basically, traditional dishes reinterpreted, very well, along modern lines.  Then it was off to Toledo's magnificent cathedral, and back to Madrid, …

… where my mother-in-law has discovered that her flight to the US has been cancelled.  I am still on hold with American Airlines, more than one hour after beginning this blog post, waiting to see if we can at least get her across the Atlantic tomorrow.  

Done!  American answered just as I finished writing the last sentence.  She is getting out tomorrow!  Going home to Boston!  By way of Dallas/Ft Worth. Arriving at midnight.   At least this time, there should be no flea-bitten hotels, or English food.