Calle Mayor 21

We arrived at our apartment door at 3:30 p.m. Our apartment manager's sister (fluent in English) and father (fluent in Spanish) met us there about 10 minutes later. The apartment is in an amazing location, right near Plaza Mayor and just a few short blocks from Puerta del Sol. Fortunately we are on the first floor, which is one up from the street. It's clear that we will be walking most everywhere we want to go in Madrid.After getting settled in to the apartment, Jenny and Ali went to the nearby supermarket for some very basic provisions: water, diet coke, bottle of albarino, bread, cheese, nutella, shampoo.

Liam and Dylan went for a short paseo, while I sat down to re-read the Ramos guide and Rick Steves' Madrid chapter. It wasn't the material, but the jet lag that had me nodding off in the comfy chair in our room.

I woke to the shrill sound of the apartment building door bell, scrambled to find how to answer it, gave up and headed down to the front door. All four were there, complaining that the key to the door didn't work, a bit hot, tired and grumpy. (Fortunately I discovered that the keys did work, just took a little care to open, as you might expect in an urban apartment door on the street. A relief, since I was not relishing making a phone call to the apt manager about us not getting the keys to work!).

After digging into the sweet rolls, nutella and soda, plus grabbing a shower, the provisioning and paseo crowd all felt better. Except for me, who could not wait to lay down on the bed for a real nap.

As I was trying to start said nap, the boys and Jenny hatched a plan to go to the bullfights. Alison did not want to go, so I volunteerd to stay back with her at the apartment - chillaxin' as she'd say, nappin' as I'd say -- while Jenny, Liam and Dylan went for their first full-on Spanish experience at La Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas.