Saturday 24^th October 2009

Where were we? The Gay Mother and I are in Madrid at the Villa Real, 5 stars – don’t like it. Horrid colour on the walls. Foolish paper flowers on poles (see photo in previous posting). But only 134 euros a night.

No question of it being the centrepiece of our holiday.

We’ve been here since Wednesday. How have we filled the void? Don’t worry. Poor Little Rich Gays are nothing if not resourceful, especially when accompanied by a Gay Mother.

Who, on the first day, looked out of the window, saw it was about to rain and announced a walk. Off we trudge in a gale to a park called The Retiro, the Gay Mother, 85, several times nearly Mary Poppinsified by her 3 euro umbrella, bought earlier in the day. Do you get it?  Of course, we don’t like The Retiro because we don’t like gardens in foreign full stop – dusty vistas, everything in rows, no flowers.

On the way back from the garden, so-called, what do I see, looming ahead?  Yes, the Ritz Hotel, the Madrid Ritz, said to be the best. I’ve mentioned before, I think, that we can see it from our rooms at the Villa Real. ‘Do you fancy a tea’s cup?’ I say to the Gay Mother. Yes, she does and where do I suggest? ‘Well, we could try….’ and before she knows it we’re through the door.

You see, I’m applying the same technique as with the waxed Diesel jeans at H Nicks which were so expensive, but in that case it didn’t work. (I know it’s a loose thread. I haven’t finished the story of the waxed jeans I was in quest of last Saturday. It’s utterly thrilling but you’ll have to wait…). Sample what you haven’t got or can’t have and find fault with it.

Fortunately the Madrid Ritz did not let down. Moribund, poor service, depressing Palm Court with no windows, gloomy heaps of rococo crap, faintly grubby, cheap pink jackets of the waiters. Only plus a good cup, good china and silverware but I should think so too at 18 euros. Final triumph – on leaving I looked back at the facade. Replacement windows!

Wouldn’t have done at all.

This is what you do if your own hotel fails. Are you following?  Do you get my drift?  That’s it. You fill the time looking at other hotels. Anthony Mottram and I once spent days scouring the Los Remedios district of Seville in search of hotels. That was after we’d inspected the 5 star Alphonso XIII (absolutely not: items for sale in glass cases in the lobby). The Los Remedios district was modern and residential, but, you never know, there might have been a glorious hotel lurking.

In that case we aspired to move. The 2-star we were in was impossible. Finally, finally we got into the Alabardero, whose radiance we had yearned for the minute we arrived in Seville.

The Gay Mother, at 85, has less appetite for hotel warfare. We will be staying put. Hotels have therefore taken up less time than is desirable. No inspecting of other hotel rooms, always a pleasant past-time whether you intend moving or not, no haggling, Anthony Mottram style, over prices – when re-hoteling you have the great advantage of being on the spot.

We’ve had to branch out in other directions, including, would you believe it, sight-seeing.

But just round the corner is the Hotel Urban. I’ve located it but not been in. My friend, Mrs Solomon Bung of California, stayed there. I fear it might be better. But it is the sister hotel of this one. We could have gone there for the same price, you know.

Consoling Vulgarity at the Ritz, Madrid

Things Could be Worse: a 3-star Garage-Hotel in Madrid

Good Silver Tea Pot at the Madrid Ritz