A City Of Two Tales

GETTING DRUNK ON ART AND THE ART OF GETTING DRUNK, MADRID HAS BOTH FIGURED. AND AMIT DIXIT FIGURED THAT DRINKING FIRST VASTLY IMPROVED HIS APPRECIATION OF ART

- Amit Dixit

A couple of hours after landing in Madrid, I clinked my first caña, that less-than-half pint ice-cold portion of beer that is the soul of a Spanish tapas bar. It was local favourite Mahou, proudly produced in Madrid since 1890. Since it takes two to tango (and clink cañas), I had a companion in crime: Enrique Gonzalez Mendizabal, a warm, hulking Madrileño and the absolute, best guide I could have hoped for on my whirlwind tour of the Spanish capital.

Speedy Gonzalez walked with disarming vigour and I inevitably trailed him at my desi pace. He downed two drinks while I guarded my first. His knowledge of Madrid’s watering holes was as wide as it was deep. He was generous with his knowledge and he dispensed it speedily. This is the first pearl of wisdom he shared: “Tapas should always be free. You buy a drink, you get a tapa. You buy another drink, you get another tapa.” It’s another matter that we were paying for the excellent mussel croquetas accompanying our drinks, but then every house has its rules. The bar was inside the Mercado de San Antón, a historic market that first arose in 1945 and which was restored and reopened in 2002. It’s a posh place now, purveying exotic produce and ingredients and is lined with bars and restaurants offering an impressive variety of international cuisines. There’s even a terrace bar, offering splendid views of the Madrid skyline.

The Mercado is emblematic of the wave of gentrification gently sweeping Madrid’s old neighbourhoods. Chueca, the barrio we were in, is flirty, fashionable and openly gay, as the square-jawed guys in tight shorts distributing leaflets corroborated. It’s home to the Madrid Pride which, with its 1.5 million visitors, is the biggest gay party on earth.