Spain 17/7

Last day in Spain .. it has been a wonderful four weeks and we still have lots to see. As we don't have time to do them all we have settled on one - The Prado Museum. It will be a good place to spend the day if not for the art for the air conditioning. It is another hot day in Madrid. The Prado is, of course, more than somewhere to avoid the heat. We have found that the disadvantage of coming to Spain in July is that it is hot. Fortunately, we left the humidity behind in Barcelona and it has been a dry heat in Andalucia. The advantage however is that only the hardiest tourists seem to come out in the heat and the queues (if there is one) for the tourist hotspots have been mercifully short and we haven't felt that we have been overcrowded. This has been welcome relief as we read about queues everywhere and saw some long ones in Madrid when we first arrived. The Prado is an extraordinary art museum - and a fitting end to our trip we think. I am not sure we saved the best til last, but it would come close if the criterion was how many times you were stunned by a painting. We headed straight for the Velasquez, and then as we were leaving some five or so hours later we came across some more that we hadn't seen yet. We saw a lot, but not quite everything. At the last minute we headed back into a couple more rooms so that Rob could see the El Grecos. He did not want to leave without seeing them - though we had seen several already. When we got to Toledo the El Greco Museum was closed for renovations, so we saw some of their collection in another Toledo Museum, and a couple from their collection had been sent to the Prado for conservation work. So the end of Spain, one final beer in the plaza outside our hostal, pick up our bags and off on the Metro to Chamartin station, and onto the overnight train to Paris. How romantic you cry - but the romance dies a little when you hear that we are sitting up all night in reclining armchairs. All I can say so far is they are comfortable but the material in the cover is a lttle scratchy. I was surprised that there was no x-ray check of our luggage as there has been at our other stations where we get long distance trains. As I head towards the escalator to the platform I notice (along with quite a few fellow travellers) the woman standing at the top banging her suitcase on the 'stairs' of the escalator and yelling at it as she seems always to put it on the part of the 'step' as it separates. She gives up and LAYS HER SUITCASE DOWN on the escalator and sends it over the edge. It starts to slide down then roll down the escalator. We cannot see the bottom and I can tell from all the audible gasps - mine included - that we are shocked and imagine what will happen as the case ploughs into the people on the escalator lower down. As it turns out there were no people lower down as the suitcase owner had been banging and crashing and yelling while they went down and got off in their own good time. By the time I glide gracefully down the woman has gone off up the platform still talking loudly to all and sundry and I am left hoping that she is not in our carriage. Mercifully, she is not. We are right up near the engine, so walk miles along the platform to get to our carriage, followed by a cheerful group of women who settle in the seats in front of us. Then a group of backpackers get on with tickets for the same seats. Rob has read one tale of woe about this trip and starts to get ready for some sort of argument and delay .... which doesn't eventuate. Everyone is polite to ech other and the conductor has a good look at all the tickets. The women have arrived a day early - even my very limited French stretches to "demain". That was about the only word I did understand through their laughter as they got off the train again. The carriage is full, but everyone has enough room and we all settle into our seats to watch the countryside go by. We climb into the mountains and go through tunnels and watch out the window as Spain slips past us. A quick bite in the cafeteria car to watch the sunset over a glass of wine and a bocadillo then with any luck sleep... and waking up in France. Just as we return from the cafeteria car the young woman with the group in front of us is in tears. Her boyfriend, as I assume he is, was asleep when we left , is tring to comfort her. I have no idea at all what brought that on, but she eventually falls asleep - as do I.