El Rastro

This morning I left my house at 8:30 AM to go to El Rastro, Madrid’s biggest open-air flea market where new and used items are sold. I was advised to go this early because any time later it would be too busy. I looked up online how to get there and most websites recommended about 4 different metro stops. I just figured I would get off at Sol (the very center of Madrid). The websites said, “follow the crowds”. Well, I should’ve put two and two together because at 8:30 AM there were no crowds, only drunk people passed out in the metro station from the night before. So I’m carefully looking around the plaza waiting patiently for a crowd to come out of nowhere so I could follow them.

No crowd and four sets of directions later, I finally found the market. There weren’t many people and not all of the stalls had been set up yet. I kind of regret coming that early because I wasn’t there to buy things, but more to people watch. I love walking around the Kobe Swap Meet in San Diego looking through all the used junk, not in hopes of finding a treasure, but I just like seeing the things that end up there. I always imagine the stories behind the items and wonder if anyone would ever buy something like a “hotties of the 80s scrapbook”, a single beat-up shoe, a doll with broken arms, or even a marathon trophy with someone else’s name on it. I always imagine that someone must’ve died and someone gathered all of their belongings and sprawled them out on a blanket to be picked apart by strangers to make a few bucks. It seems very strange to me, but at the same time very fascinating.


It was funny to walk by stalls with no shoppers at them and then all of a sudden see a group of people huddling around a blanket as if they were picking through rubies and diamonds. Then I sneak my way through the huddle to see what everyone is looking at only to see another pile of junk that looks the same as the neighboring blanket vacant of interested buyers. I’ve noticed that one person stands around a blanket long enough that another person comes up and then people start to see that there is interest until soon a crowd develops.

After walking up and down all of the busy streets multiple times, I decided to walk back to the house instead of taking the metro. However, the map in my Moleskine journal conveniently doesn’t show the streets outside of the El Rastro neighborhood; the streets that I needed to get back to the house. So walking I hopped from bus stop to bus stop reading the posted maps to get back. Along the way I saw many of what looked like prostitutes-by-night selling garlic by day: “¡1 Euro!” It was quite peculiar in my opinion.

On my walk back I walked through the Atocha train station. They have a beautiful tropical garden there with water misters to cool off passersby and a turtle habitat for décor and entertainment. ¡Por fin¡ Finally, I made it back to the house and took my long-awaited siesta.