Jules Heartly | April 2025 – Travel Blogs

Madrid or Mayritt like was originally called. This name, meaning “place of abundant water” in Arabic, was given to the city when it was founded by Emir Muhammad I of Córdoba, Spain in the 9th century and later in 1561 got its current name.

My arrival to Madrid’s La plaza Mayor felt like coming back to an unknown place. Every time I visit La plaza mayor the experience is different and vibrant unforgettable. The clouds formation never the same but almost always present. The growing voices of locals and visitors exchanging loudly their thoughts and the occasional fragrances of local cuisines all inviting to explore more.

I started the expedition by visiting what has become a destination place #LaTiendaDeLosDeseos located in La Escalinata street right around the plaza mayor. The place had immensely more written wishes by the growing number of visitors and the unmet number of declarations of wishes granted by the universe to those who faithfully and joyfully have left them written on the white pieces of paper provided by the owner, the writer Daniela Camino. She herself being a firsthand witness of having a wish made true.. She wanted people to reconnect to writing on a piece of paper. “Instead of sending a text to someone via WhatsApp saying “ I wish you were here!” why not writing down the wish on a piece of paper and therefore enhance the inner connection and improve the chances of making it come true,” Says Daniela.

A few years ago she started her business #PequeStory which has now been renamed to #LaTiendaDeLosDeseos and the story is now well known around the world.

I continued perambulating Madrid, a city thriving with its street performances which in itself adds an extra layer of wonder to your walk, not only In Puerta del Sol but all over Madrid Centro. A walkable area where only taxis and public transportation are allowed on the streets.

Walking Madrid’s streets is more than a visual feast; it’s an immersion of the senses. The scent of fresh churros and rich chocolate drifts from a cafe, tempting you to pause for a taste.

(Photo courtesy of Cecilia Negro)

The echo of laughter, the distant toll of church bells, and the rhythmic beats of a street drummer create an ever-changing soundtrack.

Every step through Madrid is a step in history, art, and culture. Whether marveling at its architectural wonders, visiting museums, feeling the ancient stones beneath your feet, or being enchanted by a street performer’s craft, the city offers an experience that lingers in your soul long after your walk has ended.

I stepped in the Madrid cobblestones, serious witnesses of war and love history with countless tells to share screamed in silence and echoed by the many tourist guides who freely create their own versions, multiplying carelessly the tales and triggering new half filled stories in the minds of forgetful tourists like me.

Streets and sidewalks open to the imagination of historians and curious visitors like me, who themselves unknowingly become part of it, temporarily astonished by a living statue—perhaps a golden Don Quixote or a silver-plated street artist frozen in time—who suddenly moves, startling and delighting us passer-byes like Angel did to us, after a coin was deposited in his jar. That is how I learned he meditates while in his “frozen statue position’ and teaches yoga when not performing across Europe.

As the evening shadows lengthened across Madrid, I found myself unexpectedly drawn to a small, unassuming venue with a simple sign promising “Flamenco Auténtico.” Initially, I had dismissed the idea, believing that true flamenco belonged exclusively to Sevilla’s intimate tablaos, not the cosmopolitan capital. “Surely Madrid’s version would be watered down, designed for tourists,” I thought skeptically. Yet something about the passionate guitar notes escaping through the doorway convinced me to reconsider. After all, Madrid, as Spain’s proud capital, had a knack for showcasing the country’s finest cultural treasures from every region. How gloriously wrong my preconceptions proved to be! The moment the bailadora’s heels began their hypnotic percussion against the wooden floor, her hands carving emotion through the air with elegant ferocity, I understood that Madrid had indeed captured the soul of flamenco. The raw intensity of the singer’s voice, the guitarist’s nimble fingers, and the palmas creating rhythmic thunder transported me to Andalucía without ever leaving the capital, proving that Madrid truly serves as Spain’s cultural heart, where regional treasures find worthy expression.

But not all are tapas places, music venues and cobblestones. Madrid is one of the European cities with more parks and green life. And to remind us of that abundance #ElRetiroPark with over 15000 trees and 125 hectares of land is a green sanctuary within the city. I spent most of a day there and immersed in the quietness of the lake while the monuments on its vicinity observed me like for the first time.

And of course, how to be in Madrid and not linger in the many wonderful bookstores and libraries? Books in all languages and also real treasure ones could be found in a historic neighborhood library like “RinconDeLectura” by la Plaza del Dos De Mayo, where the simple act of browsing books is transformed into a sensory journey – the distinctive scent of aging paper mingles with coffee from nearby cafés.

Because wandering through Madrid’s bookstores and libraries is to surrender to a particular kind of magic that exists nowhere else. Ancient volumes and contemporary works alike find their homes in sunlit corners of centuries-old buildings, where wooden shelves bow slightly under the weight of collected wisdom. Time seems to slow as you move between the Biblioteca Nacional’s majestic reading room and the intimate charm of secondhand bookshops tucked away in Barrio de las Letras, where Cervantes and Lope de Vega once walked.

In Madrid, literature isn’t merely preserved; it breathes alongside the city’s pulse, inviting visitors into a timeless conversation between past and present.

Learning about the history of Madrid, I was compelled to visit Toledo, a medieval town 45 min away from it and the original capital of Spain.

Toledo.

The unexpected rain drops became steady and even icy bits of water came down non stop in their intent to deter us to initiate the ride to the neighboring town of Toledo.

The ride wasn’t long, but heavy clouds and constant rain kept us company along the way making the scenery dreamy and distant. Even with that, we were able to imagine the stories behind the creation of Toledo.

Nestled atop a hill overlooking the Tagus River, Toledo is a city where history breathes through its ancient walls. Known as the “City of Three Cultures,” Toledo has been shaped by Christian, Muslim, and Jewish influences, creating a rich tapestry of art, architecture, and traditions. Once the capital of Spain, this UNESCO World Heritage site remains a must-visit destination for history lovers and travelers alike.

During the Spanish Golden Age (16th century), Toledo flourished under Emperor Charles V before Madrid became Spain’s capital in 1561. Today, the city is a living museum, preserving centuries of history within its medieval streets.

When I stepped out on the stony and hilly Toledo streets, the clouds moved out opening a sightseeing corridor guiding me from the Saint Martin bridge all the way to the cathedral, the alcazar, the Greco museum, the Jewish quarter, the synagogue of Santa Maria La Blanca ,Puerta Bisagra. The Mirador del Valle, the artisanal market and even to the #Encuentros art gallery where I was met by Ricardo Martin, an artist painter and licensed in physical education who kindly and humbly told us the story behind a couple of his most memorable paintings.

Stepping into Toledo was like entering a living poem etched in stone and spirit across the ages. This ancient city wraps visitors like me, in layers of history that speak in whispers through narrow cobblestone streets and the saffron fragances of home made dishes.

As golden light bathes the weathered sandstone buildings at dusk, there’s an overwhelming sense that one has crossed some invisible threshold into Spain’s soul. Walking beneath Moorish arches, past Sephardic synagogues, and into soaring Gothic cathedrals, I felt the heartbeat of civilizations that have loved this place before me.

The metallic gleam of Toledo steel caught my eye in artisan workshops like Damasquinado Suarez,a family-owned business that has been producing stunning Damascene works for generations.

Swords, shields, armors, and hand crafted jewelry. “The art of Damascene involves the inlaying of gold and silver threads into steel, creating intricate and beautiful patterns”. Explained Ismael, who kindly was doing a demonstration of how the steel is worked at very high temperatures and then molded by skilled artisans whom have mastered this technique, resulting in stunning pieces showcasing the rich heritage of Toledo.

A few days later, as I stood on the platform at Chamartín Station, the morning sun cast long shadows across the iron and glass canopy above, my heart heavy with the bittersweet ache of departure. Madrid had embraced me with unexpected warmth even during the rainy spring days—from animated conversations with strangers in Plaza Mayor to quiet moments contemplating Velázquez in the Prado’s hushed galleries. The city had revealed itself to me slowly, like a friend sharing confidences, through late-night tapas crawls with my friends, who had also traveled from far to meet me in this adventure, and dawn walks when the streets belonged only to delivery trucks and street cleaners. I found myself memorizing final details: the particular blue of the sky above Gran Vía, the musical cadence of Madrileño Spanish, the impromptu flamenco performance in a tiny taberna, sharing tapas with my friends at a crowded market counter in Mercado San Miguel, the scent of fresh churros that drifted through the Malasaña neighborhood at breakfast…

The train’s whistle cut through my reverie, signaling it was time to move onward to new horizons. As Madrid receded through the window, its skyline gradually dissolving into the Castilian landscape, I knew the city had left an indelible mark—not just in photographs or souvenirs, and magical moments shared —but in the way it had taught me to embrace life with passion and presence, lessons I would carry to every destination ahead.

Thank you for reading my blog and hopefully sharing some of your Madrid impressions.

Remember to follow me on social media @JBradiant and check my website for current and upcoming books and stories.