There's an increasing number of "pedias" on the Web, and now we have Madripedia, which aims to become the biggest ever Madrid-based encyclopaedia (in what's probably a limited field). It follows Cordobapedia, which has done the same thing for Córdoba since 2005, and which now has 3,700 entries (Madripedia only has 850+ so far). So it's over to you! Any experts in cocido madrileño out there?

This is Feld. You may have seen him. Feld has been living at Madrid's Barajas Airport, Terminal 1, for three years, after having failed to catch his flight to Los Angeles. He speaks six languages, signs his name "Feld Charles I",and nobody's sure who he is: and he ain't telling. He may be an African diplomat who lost his job; he may be an Indian rajah, though he's probably Ethiopian. (The police aren't sure, so they can't send him back home anywhere.) Sometimes the social services people come to try and make him lead a more normal life, but Feld isn't interested: his mission is to turn Terminal 1 into a mysterious "People's Palace". If you see him don't give him money, because he won't accept it. "What," a recent El País article about him ends, "does Feld feel is missing from his life? At this question, his eyes fill with tears; he remains silent a few seconds, covering his mouth with his hand. When he takes his hand away, it is only to say in English: “This conversation is over”.

Here's the Puerta del Sol in the rain - a rare glimpse. Rain has been a scarce and precious item in Spain over recent months, and so when it rained again today, it was good just to smell the air. But there are still people who are complaining that it's going to pour down over the weekend. Golfers, for example, whose hobby is more water-reliant than most. From a fascinating article by Fred Pearce in Prospect magazine this month: "In Spain, the Zapatero government, elected in 2004, abandoned its predecessor's plans to relieve parched fields and empty swimming pools in the south by pumping water from the wetter north. They decided instead to build 20 reverse osmosis plants along the Costas, which are expected to meet slightly over 1 per cent of Spain's total water needs." Reverse osmosis is one (costly) way of desalinating the sea. It seems that the only way we can get out of this mess now is by tampering with the natural world even further than we already have.

BTW: there's an odd little video here of the Puerta del Sol in the rain, posted to You Tube by Mikel García. The title, inevitably: Lluvia en Sol.

"When we peel a banana, it sticks its tongue out at us."

Spainwatchers might be interested in seeing this rather elegant ad for the Madrid metro system. The music is the Intermezzo from Mascagni's Cavelleria Rusticana. Rest assured that it's actually not quite as peaceful as this down there. But given the sheer quantity of roadworks (somewhere in the region of 900 in the region), there's never been a better time to take the tube, where today we were treated to a stunning rendition of "Jingle Bells" by a man who was able to make his mouth organ sound like the National Symphony Orchestra. (link via Metafilter.)

For the first 10 years of my life in Madrid, my home was a small apartment in the picturesque little Calle del Oso, in the centre near Tirso de Molina. I have very fond memories of it and sometimes still miss it, partly because I enjoy a bit of creative disorder about my dwellings and there's not too much of that these days, now I'm married. In Calle del Oso, inspired by Rachmaninov and Meat Loaf, I wrote my novel. I had some good parties. I broke two beds. I made love to countless women of many nationalities (though thinking about it, that might not have been me). Calle del Oso is famous as the street where Ana Belén, the singer, was born and where a gay hairdresser murdered his lover in the 1980's. And now it's back in the news again because (and this is where the creative disorder comes in), on 25th August the news stories reported the following:

"Operarios del servicio de limpieza del Ayuntamiento de Madrid han retirado, entre ayer y hoy, 2.000 kilos de basura del domicilio de dos ancianos que padecen el llamado "síndrome de Diógenes", y que habían acumulado en su vivienda todo tipo de desechos, lo que había motivado la denuncia de los vecinos."

Basically, 2,000 kilos of rubbish were removed in late August from the apartment, at no. 13 where I once lived, of an elderly couple with Diogenes Syndrome - a condition of extreme self neglect that generally affects people who live alone, often accompanied by a tendency to hoard rubbish (come to think of it, blogging is probably a form of it). The picture tells the story: apparently the rubbish had caused mice and rats to occupy the staircase up which I once trudged. I don't think I knew them, because they only moved in three years ago. The old woman, Felisa, could be heard screaming that everyone should be allowed to live as they wish. Up to a point.

It's official: Madrid has the 63rd most impressive city skyline in the world. And that was probably before the 106 m. high Edificio Windsor burned down last month. Changing cityscapes: I was out walking a couple of weekends ago with my wife and as we were walking past one of the older buildings in our barrio, a wonderful cube-shaped thing that has slowly been emptying as its inhabitants have been dying, I said: "I hope they don't tear this down". Well, the next day, they did (see picture).

I'm off to Seville until the weekend. So a Happy Easter to all our reader.
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The four-day summit on terrorism in Madrid having ended with the “Madrid Agenda” – the list of conclusions drawn from the summit, which can be summed up by the idea that more democracy will equal less terrorism - today has been a day of busy remembrance in Madrid, following the terrorist attacks of a year ago. At 12 o’clock, the city (and much of Spain and Europe) observed a five-minute silence; there have been memorial services big and small, though the families of many victims have apparently preferred to get out of the city for a few days rather than have to relive it all again. At 7.37 a.m., which is the time the first bomb exploded, Madrid's 650 churches rang their bells for five minutes in memory of the missing. The Bosque de los Ausentes, 192 cypress and olive trees, has been opened in the Retiro Park: a cellist played Pablo Casals’ “Song of the Birds” at the memorial service held there. Candles have been lit, flowers been left, prayers been said and tears shed at the places where the bombs exploded. The press has gone mad, needlessly interviewing people traveling on the same train this morning about how they feel, even thrusting microphones into the faces of children for their opinions. The newspapers all contain special supplements or articles telling us that terrorism is a bad thing, and DVD’s have appeared on the newsstands, their release delayed, perhaps cynically, until the first anniversary was upon us. The state channel, at least ended its evening new bulletin with some dignity, showing the names of the 192 victims scrolling over a black background rather than the supposedly “iconic” images of grief and cheesy music used by the other channels. There was even silence in Congress, where the politicians who have been slinging mud at each other over this for the last few months did the decent thing and shut up for once. The Guardian reports: “Spain's 1m-strong Muslim community yesterday issued what it called the world's first fatwa against Osama bin Laden, leader of al-Qaida which has been linked to the Madrid train bombings […] It requires him to be condemned and al-Qaida banned "as part of Islam.” And this, from Timothy Garton Ash writing in The Observer, is worth reflecting on. “Perhaps the most impressive thing the Spanish people have done in the year since the “11-M” attacks is the thing they haven't done. They have not struck back, scapegoating Moroccans or Muslims of any nationality. A recent report by Human Rights Watch pays this cautious tribute: ‘To our knowledge, there have not been any clearly documented cases of racist violence that can be attributed directly to the March 11 bombings.’ It goes on to quote the president of the association of Moroccan workers and immigrants in Spain: ‘The reaction has overall been exemplary, that of a society that knows how to distinguish between a few terrorists and a community.” That’s the spirit. Still perhaps the most eloquent, sanest testimony on the whole thing has come from Pilar Manjón, who represented the victims at the December investigation into the attacks. Addressing the commission and indirectly the politicians of Spain, she said she wasn’t interested in why the Popular Party had lost the elections. She was interested in why she had lost her 20-year old son. Then she simply asked the politicians to make it possible for Spanish citizens to leave their houses in the mornings safe in the knowledge that they would return there at the end of the day. Her speech in full (in Spanish) is here (PDF).

Another Madrid landmark, a bit of a Transición icon, is about to bite the dust, and it's blaming CD piracy and Internet downloads for the damage. What will go in its place? Not McDonald's, at least - there's already one right next door. Mark my words, it'll be the Prado next.

Meanwhile, Spanish soccer coach Luis Aragonés has been fined €3000 (about $4000) for his racist remarks before the game against England in November. $4000? That'll hurt him no end.
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The Madrid attacks of March 11 2004 are commemorated in a potent documentary film called Todos íbamos en este tren (We Were All on That Train), which consists of 24 short pieces offering different perspectives on the tragedy. It is showing in only one cinema in the capital, and that cinema is in the barrio of Vallecas, far from the city centre, but close to where one of the trains was blown up. I saw the film at six o'clock tonight - and I was the only person in there. In theory it's good and necessary to remember tragedies - but the thought struck me, as I sat there alone, that perhaps nobody, least of all those close to the victims, actually wants to. See it if you can.