Arriving in Madrid by train during the afternoon siesta, we caught the metro to Anton Martin station and walked down the deserted streets past shuttered doors, construction fencing, homeless people and a seedy looking strip club. So, this is Spain's capital hey? I really took a bit of time to warm up to Madrid, especially after vibrant Barcelona.

We stayed in a beautiful hostel - a converted 18th century palace with a stained glass ceiling and a cushion covered common area below. Almost pretty enough to ignore the s***ty "showers" with two trickles of water and no temperature control - it was all luck of the draw, freezing cold or scalding hot. Likewise the 'free paella with every drink' night distracted us from our too dark room, which was pitch black 24/7 and completely confused our body clocks.

At first glance there is not a lot to do in Madrid, with the only obvious options being shopping or drinking. Of course there is the bullfighting, but Mark and I aren't really into watching a bull being slowly tortured to death...but more debate on this in my Pamplona entry! Otherwise, no overly famous monuments, no beach to chill on...and to be honest not much research done.

On our first afternoon we wandered through Puerta Del Sol and the main shopping streets, wondering how to contact phoneless Ben and Gem who had arrived 2 days earlier. Within an hour we bumped into them - convenient! We caught up over a delicious and cheap meal at 'Ginger', filling each other in on the last week and a half and importantly, updating the spew tally...we think it is now 3-0 with Odgers still in the lead (suckers!), but there is some debate around criteria. How to deal with prolonged or sporadic chunder? Oh the big questions in life.

Day two of three started with an interesting scene. Mark had been hanging out for a fry up breakkie, and had his heart set on a littler diner down the road. When we arrived, to Mark's dismay they had shut their doors and police surrounded the store. Amongst overturned tables, broken glass and scattered utensils, a transvestite with a dramatic black wig and leather mini dress alternated between shrieking like a banshee, and giving the gathering, cat-calling audience a strip show. Something told me she was in her element.

We settled instead for crepes and KFC (mmm what a combo) and then went for a stroll in the Botanical gardens - more scientific than pretty but a lovely relaxed afternoon. We intended to pop into the El Prado museum - free after 5 on a Sunday - but got distracted by an Irish pub playing the Wimbledon final (an easy call, we are a bit over museums at this stage of the trip!). It was full of pommie Murray supporters so I cheered that little bit louder when my Roger took the cup and reclaimed his number one ranking!! Yeeeeew!!!!!

We met Ben and Gem again for a couple of drinks and Paella at our hostel. Poor Gem was back on the flu merry-go-round so called it an early night while Ben, Mark and I went to check out Madrid's famed nightlife. As it turns out, said nightlife is also bloody expensive. Entry fees for the bigger clubs started at about 15 euro, while drink 'specials' looked something like 2 drinks for 15 euro. Ouch. We got pulled into one bar with the promise of a free drink, which was urine imitating beer, and then called it a night.

Our final day was a redeeming one, in a big way.

First stop - the Royal Palace. The Royal family still occasionally occupy some of the 2000+ rooms, but about 50 of these are open to the public. The fellow at the counter did a sneaky for us and got us discounted entry, at just 5 euro pp...

"so, 2 estudiante?"

"no, adult per favor"

"2 estudiante"

"no, no adult"

"2 estudiante then"

"ohhhhh....right....Si...Per favor!!"

While the unsymmetrical layout of the Palace got under my OCD skin, the rooms were beautiful. No photos permitted, which can be a blessing really...quite nice not to hide behind a camera and properly absorb and experience the now.

We stopped at the gourmet San Miguel markets for some delicious tapas, then took a siesta before calling a date night - flamenco time!

Turns out Madrid can be a pretty romantic place, if you know where to go. We wandered toward Plaza Mayor to a beautiful soundtrack of live orchestral music (the buskers in Europe are truly amazing), on toward the Palace where we stopped to watch a gorgeous sunset. For some reason, we hadn't thought to walk around the outside of the palace earlier, and this was definitely the prettier view with the beautiful Plaza de Oriente gardens behind us, and the Palace gardens below.

We reached Plaza Espana with its leafy trees and pretty fountain and settled down with a glass of wine in an intimate little flamenco bar. Mark wasn't a fan of the "wailing" (his words) which I interpreted as soulful singing (plus one of the 'wailers' was a little bit gorgeous), but the flamenco guitar and spirited dancing made for a wonderful and very Spanish evening. Bravo!

So overall, probably won't return to Madrid (although I'm thinking we perhaps didn't make the most of it)...but happy to have been and seen :-)