Chapter 3: A Walk in the Park

We quickly settled in to a one-room efficiency near Plaza de Antón Martín, a V-shaped plaza near Atocha, one of Madrid’s major streets. The area is named after the sixteenth-century founder of a charity hospital, which seemed fitting. Until the plane landed, we were uncertain that we would even make it to Spain. Thoughts of medieval Europe and pandemic containment measures were ever on our minds.

The day after our arrival, we covered over 10 miles on foot, looking for a rental apartment and scoping out food markets. The contrasts with New York City are stark. Not a roach was seen. Not a closet presented as a “bedroom” was offered. Compared to New York City, this was a walk in the park. Although now retired, we might be able to live in an apartment in Madrid larger than the 465 square feet we shared in New York.

Our first haul of food and supplies provided similar relief. We spent less than $55 on what would have cost us three times as much in the States. It was another pleasant revelation, and we were already beginning to adjust to our new life.

The following morning, having now completed the essential items on our To Do List, we decided to take a walk to beautiful Retiro Park. It was a gorgeous day, and we marveled at how clean and crisp the air felt in our lungs. But the streets were deserted. The National Library of Spain, which we passed along the way, was closed. This made our nerd hearts sink. Under the circumstances, the wrought-iron fence and gates, which had previously struck us as ornamental and pleasing to the eye, now seemed forbidding. We encountered a closed gate, but made our way around to find another that was still open. We proceeded along Cuesta de Moyano — a pedestrian footpath lined with wooden bookstalls, reminiscent of those along the banks of the Seine in Paris — yet all but two were latched closed.

Retiro Park is more garden than park, and we did our best to appreciate all the beauty it has to offer. But whether park or garden, it is a public space, and without the usual crowds of people, the experience was disquieting . . . and foreshadowed what was to come. This was to be our last walk in the park for the foreseeable future.

That evening, the government announced imposition of the State of Alarm under the Spanish Constitution. The encerrado and confinamiento were upon us.

©2020 Kay Diaz