24 hours in Spain's capital, Madrid

MY WHIRLWIND itinerary brings me to Spain's capital on the final day of the Fiesta San Isidro, a week-long citywide jubilee celebrating the city's patron saint.

escape madrid

MY WHIRLWIND itinerary brings me to Spain's capital on the final day of the Fiesta San Isidro, a week-long citywide jubilee celebrating the city's patron saint.

Legends paint San Isidro as a penniless peasant farmer who was boundlessly generous with his food and drink. I suspect the drink flowed into the wee hours last night, for the streets of Madrid are almost deserted early this morning.

I'm staying at the modern Husa Paseo Del Arte in the Atocha barrio, just across the road from the botanic gardens, so I grab a takeaway coffee and start the day with a ramble through some of its lush 8ha of aromatic greenery.

Madrid is the midpoint of my madcap round-the-world journey and the serenity is welcome. It's just the preparation I need before throwing myself into this capital city of 3.4 million people in full party mode. I head to the nearest Metro station and grab a tourist ticket, which will whizz me anywhere in the city, and my first stop is the wide Plaza Mayor, bounded by the shuttered windows and little balconies of elegant apartment blocks built in the early 1600s.

I spy a tourist information office and get some pointers from a friendly chap called Reuben about what to see during the fiesta. Immediately he mentions tonight's bullfight, and because I just need a single ticket I might be in with a chance. I dash to an internet cafe and get online. They're like gold dust the 25,000-seat Las Ventas arena is almost sold out. After a frustrating 20 minutes of trying to snag disappearing tickets, I book one with my ANZ Travel Card.

In Plaza Mayor, the first signs of celebration are appearing. There's a group of five chulapas women clad in fancy, lacy, full-length traditional dresses posing for photos. Over by the grandiose statue of King Felipe III, there's a headless guy in a suit dressed as the Invisible Man, and someone in a giant teddy-bear suit hugging passers-by. It's not even noon. This is going to be one hell of a party.

I follow the crowds downhill out of the plaza to El Rastro markets a massive flea market held in the streets every Sunday. Its 3500 stalls, hawking everything from the tacky to the unique, take over an entire barrio and it seems every Madrileno is here.

The crazy costuming continues as I'm stopped by two fur-clad, grimacing terracotta-coloured goblins. The streets are filled with eclectic music, from traditional flamenco guitar to a duo crooning a smooth, jazzy, heavily accented version of Anarchy in the UK on acoustic guitar and double bass.

I haggle for a jacket that catches my eye, then wend my way through pleasant little warrens of streets and sunny plazas, lined with tiny tavernas already full of locals in traditional dress getting into muchas cervezas.

Passing the majestic spires of the towering Almudena Cathedral, I arrive at the Royal Palace, built in the mid-1700s after the old one burned down. Inside, its opulence is staggering room after room of sumptuous drapes, elaborate chandeliers, paintings by Velazquez, Goya and Caravaggio, and a Stradivarius string quartet. In the royal armoury are some of the most elegant, finely etched suits of armour I've seen the tiny suits with the huge helmets made for kids are eerie.

With the day wearing on, I head to Puerta Del Sol, the heart of the shopping district, which is thronged by yet more people in outlandish costumes. The seven-storey flagship store of Spanish fashion brand Desigual is the perfect place to pick up something for my partner as a thank-you for letting me race around the world for three weeks.

I freshen up at the hotel before leaving for the bullfight, hopping in a cab with 40 minutes to spare. The cabbie speaks no English not many people here do and I speak barely any Spanish but we find a quite literal "lingua franca" in pidgin French.

He tells me I ought to have left earlier because of traffic. This is at odds with the cruisy attitude that pervades Madrid, I tell him. He looks stern. "A bullfight," he says emphatically, "is the one thing the Spanish are punctual about."

We make it to Las Ventas bullring with plenty of time to spare, however a towering colosseum, full to the brim with excited punters in tiers of stone seats. Seats here are based not only on how close you are to the action but whether you're in the sun or shade.

At the stroke of seven, the matadors and their entourages parade around the ring. Three of the greats are here - Morante de la Puebla, Alejandro Talavante and Arturo Saldivar.

Bullfights happen in three distinct phases; in the first two, the entourage goad the bull so the matador can learn its behaviours before going one-on-one. It's highly ritualised and technical I learn this when the entire crowd suddenly stands up and hisses, or waves white handkerchiefs.

It's certainly a spectacle, but not for animal lovers or the faint of heart. I was, rather naively, quite unprepared for the bulls to actually stagger and die, vomiting blood, before my eyes. Tomorrow, I will learn from the papers that the matadors didn't impress the crowd and made error after error all I know is that I saw a man stick a sword between a bull's shoulders an agonising five times before putting it out of its misery.

After such a confronting sight there's nothing for it but to join the jubilant throngs again and down a couple of Cruzcampos as darkness falls and the city explodes into song.

Just before midnight I wander down to the wide park on the banks of the Manzanares river, where the fiesta is closing in style. The place is ablaze with thousands of fiery torches scattered through the park and arranged into complex sculptures of naked flame in the middle of the river itself. I sit on the grass and gaze, spellbound. It's the perfect way to end a day in a city where a pleasant surprise awaits around each winding corner.

The writer was a guest of ANZ.

El Rastro market is on every Sunday and public holiday, 9am-3pm. Metro: La Latina.

The Palacio Real de Madrid and its Armoury are open 9am-5pm (2pm Sundays). Admission is 10 euros ($A13.50). Metro: Opera. See www.patrimonio nacional.es

See a bullfight at the Plaza Toros Las Ventas, Sundays from March-October at 7pm. Tickets from 10 euros to 120 euros. Metro: Ventas. See www.taquillatoros.com for tickets or www.las-ventas.com for info.

$A1 = 0.74 euro

For more information on the ANZ Travel Card, see www.anztravelcard.com

Travel Tips: Spain destination guide