24 HOURS IN MADRID

Nostalgia is a funny thing.

Having had a fair share of experiences with moving cities I anticipated a lot of the emotions I would be feeling due to moving from Madrid to Dublin for college. And yet practice does not seem to make things better as much as the lucky happenstance of a comforting image or a familiar sound. (e.g. Natalia Lafourcade´s new song).

In this case, I found a huge sense of comfort (and longing) from the discovery of some unseen photographs of my beloved Audrey Hepburn parading herself through Madrid. It brought me back to that moment in Gran Vía waving goodbye to my best friend as he walked away from me to catch the bus.

I remember not wanting to leave him as I walked across Museo Chicote, a place we had both made great memories in and that Audrey used to visit as well. I recalled the cocktails we had shared sitting on the red velvet booths of the bar, with her photo above us.

A couple of weeks ago I had the chance to go back to Madrid after spending three months in Dublin. While this isn't really the longest I have been away from the city, the realization that my absence might become permanent hit me with a wave of realizations I couldn't have possibly anticipated—like the seriousness of my ongoing feud with humidity or the wounded relationship I have with my lost Colombian acccent.

My stay was however short and uneventful, and yet it was exactly what I needed. The crisp winter air with sunny skies made me feel so much more grounded than I have felt in the past three months. (Lord knows I love Dublin but the rainy skies where bringing the worst in me).

I planned my short visit around a metro trip to recall my old routines and took myself to Delphina (my favorite café). I topped the evening with a side of confessional conversations with a friend I hadn't seen in a while. Her company was the ribbon on top of my 24 hours memories trip. It was also a reminder that nostalgia is a treacherous path to threat on your own.

I am still figuring out the best way to navigate the sudden urge I get to be in places I can't be — wishing time away instead of living in the moment— but this was a beautiful reminder that having places to miss is more of a treasure than it is torture.

Madrid will wait for me, and I will always come back for her. And when I miss my days here I can always pick up the phone...or press play on my wintery playlist. 💌