On Thursday, YP and I went to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum together and each did our own thing afterward.
I enjoyed the museum. At first I was very diligent about listening to every audio description and at least looking at every painting, but after almost two hours, I got saturated and started breezing through the rooms, especially after realizing there were two more floors and I had started in the middle.
By the time I called it a day, it was almost three and I was hungry. Actually I was hungry earlier but I had a bite of a Balance bar, which sustained me.
At the museum cafe I got the duck over cous cous. While the sauce was amazing — tartly sweet with apricots, prunes, and currants — the duck itself was tough and chewy. The duck I had at the Courte d’Ingles was a billion times better. But I ate the whole thing, knowing it would be a while before I ate again.
I also had the dessert, a very liquidy vanilla custard. The flavor was good but it was so watery. I’m starting to think Spain doesn’t do dessert so well.
YP was already back by the time I got home. We were supposed to meet one of his old friends at six, but at 5:30 she sent a message saying she couldn’t make it. That kind of sucked because I came back early for our plans instead of going to the national library.
So instead we checked out the Crystal Palace, which we had been meaning to anyway. I’m sorry to say it was unimpressive. I could see how it was once amazing, but now the glass is dirty and the place was empty except for a scattering of rocking chairs which were apparently part of an exhibit. Apparently it used to hold “flora and fauna” from the Philippines. Not anymore.
It reminded me of stuff in China: buildings that seem grand from afar but are shoddy and dilapidated up close.
We decided to have Indian for dinner. He found a restaurant with plenty of vegetarian options. We got there at 7:30 but it wasn’t open until 8:30, which is often the case around here.
We sat in a Starbuck’s for almost an hour. That wasn’t so bad. I was so tired, I was able to just sit, daydream, and people-watch.
I’m finding that while some Spanish men are definitely attractive (I’m a sucker for dark hair and eyes), they are way too well-groomed for my taste.
Finally, 8:30 rolled around. I wanted a little bit of everything so I got the tasting menu. The starter was a tiny meat samosa and pakora which was more like an Indian onion bloom. The entrees were curry lamb, saag paneer, and chicken tandoori with a side of rice and naan. Dessert was a small mango lassi. All for 19 euros, which is a little expensive, but if I had ordered one entree with rice and naan, it would have been almost 19 anyway.
Back home we were both pooped. I did what has become my evening routine: shower, take care of my feet, and watch an episode or so of Doc Martin. I slept well.