Getting Around Madrid
City buses don't work for us. Takes too long to make sense of a city bus system. Moreover, buses often are stuck in traffic jams.
While we didn't use Madrid's buses, we did appreciate the Mitsubishi ads featuring a Boston Terrier. We miss ours, having left her in Mexico. (Muffled sob. Sniff.)
Taxis cost too much. In Madrid they are rarely less than €10 and can quickly run up to €20-30; money better spent on museum admissions or tapas.
Some people like to take the double-decker buses that circle through tourist-interest areas...
...but they cost a whopping €15.30 per day. Besides, they don't run frequently and you look dorky sitting in one.
No, I prefer the Metro at €0.65 per trip. Plus your average platform wait is around two or three minutes. You can't even get a taxi that fast.
Modern subway trains look nice. Graffiti-proof paint and discontinued use of slashable vinyl upholstery keep cars from being trashed.
The only signs of vandalism are diamond-scratched windows and moronic stickers applied to interior surfaces. (They'll always find a way...)
We spent a little quiet time with a map to learn the system. It just doesn't work to jump on a train and go. While at first glance, metro system maps look formidable, they always yield to patient study.
For example, the red line on the map took us directly where we wanted to go most of the time. Our apartment was toward the upper right; the city center toward the bottom left.
On the Metro, we had the opportunity to meet unique and interesting people.
It's always tough to break the habit of licking your new lip stud. (To my friend Bill R: Lots of single girls in Madrid, Bill.)
Then there's all the free entertainment.
Nothing like a man playing I Did It My Way on his cornet to speed your journey. The machine by his feet added a reggae rhythm. He had us all popping our fingers. Just look at those happy faces.
You buy tickets to ride the subway. Here, Madrid could use a little kaizen—the Japanese improvement process. Below we see a ticket booth in a typical state: Staffed, but out of service.
He's behind bulletproof glass. He better be.
Well, no matter. We can just walk over to the ticket vending machine.
Oops. It's out of service, too.
We could go back to the man in the ticket booth and try to explain the situation. But experienced Metro riders we are, we know he'll just tap his "out of service" sign and motion toward the vending machine.
I have to admit this situation occurred only once in more than two weeks of riding the Metro. But often one or the other ticket vending solution was fuera de servicio and we had to look for another.
(What do those guys do sitting behind their windows? They show all the hustle of a French street cleaner. Or a USPS counter clerk.)
A single ticket costs €1; one good for ten rides is €6.50. Don't lose your ticket. (Our tour leader in Tokyo taught me to keep my Metro ticket in my "happy place" so I wouldn't.)
Fast, efficient, clean and cheap. What's not to like? "But," you ask, "are they safe?"
Well, No.
Between the Paris and Madrid Metros, I've experienced four pick-pocketing attempts, two of them successful. I'd have saved money if I'd rented limos instead.
So why do I do it? Well, there's something empowering in mastering the Metro. Makes me feel like I'm getting a handle on a new city. I get a sense of belonging. With a great show of impatience, I sweep past befuddled tourists squinting at their maps, saying loudly to Jean, " Let's take the green line toward Casa de Campo and transfer at Callao."
And while I did get robbed twice, I beat two other attempts, and the ensuing sense of triumphant satisfaction made the whole thing worth it. It's like people gambling in casinos: They know that in the long run they're going to lose their money. But they do it anyway, for the thrill when they do manage to beat the house.