Madrid me mata

'¿Donde Ibas?'

The imperfect tense is continuous action in the past or action which hasn't yet finished and some other things which I ought to know if I had been paying better attention in evening classes.

'¿Donde Ibas?' I believe means something similar to 'where did you go?' or 'where were you?' in (Castillian) Spanish. It might rightly be something which could be addressed at Everyday Eavesdropper himself as he kept all his fans hanging on during 2006. But no. On this occasion it was said in exasperation by an unknown woman to a man in Plaza Mayor in Madrid.

When learning Spanish you spend about five years learning how to ask for directions, another five years trying to work out the difference between estar and ser (both sort of mean 'to be') and the difference between para and por (both mean 'for') and then in year 11 you turn to the Holy Grail of the Spanish language - the subjunctive (don't even go there). Round about year 9 you add the imperfect tense to your toolbox. This was, therefore, a golden moment. EE actually understood a phrase in real life in a real Spanish city about a real situation .. in the imperfect tense. Okay, I know ... it was only two words. And someone is bound to point out that EE has translated it wrongly.

Anyway, Plaza Mayor is a wonderful square in the middle of Madrid. On Sunday mornings they have a coin and stamps market; the highlight of the week for enthusiasts no doubt but to an outsider rather, well, dull. Admittedly, I did have a phase as a child when I collected stamps, but I was put off by the fact that the 'stamp hinges' never worked properly and the stamps kept falling out of the album.

There was exasperation on this woman's face as she asked, nay demanded, where he had been. I'm sure it must happen frequently all over the world. You agree to meet at an appointed place and time or maybe you just become separated; on one side the person all agitation, anxiety, annoyance and the other seemingly oblivious to the situation - 'what's the problem?' Anyway, this guy had obviously spent too long in his antique world.

What a wonderful city Madrid is. It probably features in one of those books about places to visit 'before you die' (it's generally easier to visit places before you die unless you have some haunting planned). And the art, well ...

Guernica by Picasso, which hangs in the Museo Reina y Sofia in Madrid. You must see this picture in real life (before you die) - reproductions do not do justice to its overwhelming power.

And could someone explain to me the real story about when Spanish people sleep? I thought I'd done pretty well staying up till 4 - well past most British clubs kicking-out time but I'm sure things didn't quieten down outside my window until 7am. But then everyone was up again about an hour later. I don't get it. Actually, I was talking to someone from Barcelona about this (I hope you are impressed with the international multi-lingual nature of this blog) and he said there is an expression in Spain which goes 'Madrid me mata' which means 'Madrid kills me' but then he added - it's nothing compared to Barcelona.