Madrid makes a decent spot to celebrate one’s birthday, particularly one’s twenty-first birthday. And because one should always feel like a princess on one’s birthday, I decided to visit a castle—the inspiration for the Disney castle, specifically. (Well, okay, a possible inspiration for the Disney castle. We can’t really ask Walt what he was thinking.) So I did.
The day before my birthday, I hopped on a train with a couple friends and headed to Segovia, Spain, home of the beautiful Alcázar castle. The 900-year-old castle is where the famous Isablel I was crowned Queen of Castile and Leon, which later merged with Áragon to form Spain basically as we know it now. Inside are ginormous tapestries, heavily ornate ceilings, intense armory and Isabel’s very small, awkward bed. I spent the day exploring the castle and gazing at the fantastic Roman aquaducts which carried water from a stream to the city. Every time I walked under its archways, I did so a bit cautiously knowing originally there was no mortar holding the massive boulders together. Don’t worry, none of them collapsed on me.
This was just the day before my birthday. What does one do on one’s actual birthday in Madrid? Especially on a Sunday morning? There’s the Rastro, the renowned outdoor market that stretches for blocks and I swear contains half of Madrid—and all of its pick-pocketers. There’s the Mercado de San Miguel, which sells top-of-the-line fruits, veggies, meats and cheeses. There are many, many museums that you can visit, several free. You can go out for a classic dinner of tortilla española, then for tapas and drinks later that night. You can take salsa lessons or go dancing in one of the many clubs. I chose to do none of this but instead work on a project: I had to explore a neighborhood in Madrid with friends and blog about it. It was a cold windy morning but cookies and orange juice kept me happy. That night, friends cooked dinner for me, after which I devoured half a bar of dark chocolate and argued the superiority of dark chocolate because you don’t need much of it. It was a chill, relaxing day in the busy city. Maybe the princess in me wanted a rest from the busy-ness. Or maybe this is just what sophisticated 21-year-olds do.
It was weird to have my birthday away from most friends and an ocean away from all family. It felt less momentous somehow, this birthday which is one of the most momentous of all birthdays. Birthdays are great not because you’re extra-special but because you’re treated extra-specially. The warm-fuzzies come from seeing how people react to your birthday. This year I didn’t get my birthday brownie from the CDO, where I work. I didn’t get too many bear hugs. (The double kiss is more popular in Spain.) I still had a fantastic two days.
In the few days after my birthday, I received two cards, one from a friend abroad and another from a friend back home. The latter ended with a warm fuzzy I’d been craving: “When you look back at 2/13/11, nothing will be comparable to spending #21 in Spain with friends close at hand and friends (from afar) that only think of you on this day!” My 21st in Madrid, though bittersweet, was spectacular.