Glimpses on the Madrid of 1955

After some days spent in France, in San Sebastián and in Santander,

I finally ended up in Madrid, where I was welcomed by my  “students´

exchange family“. For more or less 3 months I would now live in the street Ferraz, number 50. Today Ferraz 50 is best known for being the headquarters of the PSOE, the Spanish Socialist Party. Today´s building hasn´t anything to do with the old one I lived in. It was one of those charming, old fashioned, upper middle class buildings, dating from the end of 19^th century, with small wrought iron balconies, a splendid front door and a glass lift that moved in a kind of artistic wrought iron scaffolding. A different door and lift were used by servants and suppliers

When coming home the late evening or at night, the front door was opened by the sereno, the night watchman. You just clapped your hands and he would come with his big bundle of keys. Serenos knew everybody in their district, and they were, too, a never failing source of information.  That´s why one of the sons of my “Spanish family“ asked me, one early morning, about the stout boy that had accompanied me the night before.

The flat I lived in was quite an extensive one. There was a maid and a female cook, who, every day, got instructions about the dishes to prepare and the shopping.

I got quite a shock the first morning, when the maid entered my room and put the breakfast on the bedside table. I soon got accustomed to this  breakfast service as well as to the late meals. The main meal started at about half past three or even later, and supper at eleven o´clock. Considering what the Spanish call “sobremesa“, the chatting afterwards,  you left the table quite late, especially after supper, where the chatting and discussing could last till one o´clock or more. That´s why I sometimes had a little sleep between eight and ten o´clock, thus being fit for the long lasting “sobremesa“.

Madrid was still far away from being the huge city it is nowadays.

There was nearly no traffic and you could sit on a terrace next to the Gran Via, enjoying a vermouth with some olives or crisps.

Fiats 500 were the most used cars, besides the taxis, which were quite cheap. That´s why my “Spanish father“ used a taxi when leaving the house in the morning, to deal with his business.

I still remember some few old taxis that suddenly stopped going, whereupon the driver jumped out , trying to make the car go once more, by turning round a kind of handle.

Ferraz was quite near Plaza de España with its great monument dedicated to Cervantes, and with Quijote and Sancho Panza. I said hello to them whenever I crossed the square on my walks to the centre. I liked visiting the busy, historic Plaza Mayor, the central square, which still was crossed by trams, quite a cheap means of transport, though it was still cheaper jumping on the steps or platform at the tram´s start; a kind of sport, frequently used by  young lads, especially by young soldiers.

The days I got very hungry and didn´t want to wait for the late lunch, I bought, at one of the lots of fried-squid shops round the square, a crusty sandwich with a tasty fried squid – remembering it, still makes my mouth water! Today there´s no longer any traffic on the square, and most of the fried-squid shops have disappeared, though Madrid´s fried squid sandwiches continue being famous.

On my strolls across the lovely Retiro park I bumped, once more, into the             

nannies I had already met in San Sebastián and in Santander, clad in

red-white or blue-white striped dresses, pushing high wheeled prams and accompanied by one or two little kids in beautiful white dresses or suits. Those were the  well nourished and sumptuously clad middle class children; but Spain was still a poor country, with many untidy, poorly nourished and dressed children.

I quite often visited the Prado; there still wasn´t the Thyssen museum nor the museum of Modern Art Reina Sofía. Before, it was a hospital, I was invited, by a student, to observe an appendectomy. I´m sure he wanted to see me faint, but I didn´t; besides, the rows were staggered and we were sitting in one of the last rows, which prevented us from seeing any details.

Some Sunday mornings I went to the Rastro, Madrid´s famous, huge fleemarket where you can find nearly everything. I liked trawling through the books in the book stalls. I was always the only female among lots of males; most girls didn´t like reading, nor did they ramble or walk across fields and forests, because they always wore high-heeled shoes – a friend of mine confessed that she didn´t stop using them before she was sixty! Wow, she thought, how comfortable are those flat shoes and trainers!

Speaking about shoes; there were lots of bootblackers, real artists in polishing shoes. People, especially gentlemen, were very fond of shoe polishing, and often even stuck to the same bootblacker.Bootblackers could be trusted, though there were always some rogish, who suddenly had a supposedly rotten heel of your shoe in the hand, offering you a new one.

For sure I didn´t taste just fried squids. There were lots of popular pubs in Madrid´s old quarter, where I sometimes went, accompanied by my

“Spanish brothers and sister“ or by friends, tasting typical tapas and starters, at reasonable prices. Those popular pubs like “Las Cuevas de Luis Candela“, are now an expensive must for tourists and foreigners.

Let´s end here my glimpses on a Madrid long gone by. Much more could be told, but I think a writer should avoid boring his or her readers.