3 days ago
Queues and traffic jams — Madrid no longer sleeps during summer
There was a time, not so very long ago, when the baking heat of August in Madrid meant peace, parking spaces and the freedom to conduct illicit affairs.
Husbands were left behind as their wives and families left the city for holidays. These lone men became known as 'Rodríguez' — the name borrowed from a 1960s comedy about men fending for themselves without their wives, free to take long lunches or simply revel in liberty. Only mad dogs and a certain type of Englishman prowled about the Spanish capital in what could be loosely termed the pursuit of tourism.
Shuttered shopfronts along the main shopping street of Gran Vía conspired to create an atmosphere of camaraderie among those left. For those who remained there was the consolation of chilled beer quaffed on empty café terraces and a lack of queues for the Prado Museum, a sanctuary if the heat grew too great.
However, those days are gone. The Madrid newspaper El Mundo noted with some surprise last week that the city hummed with traffic jams on the M-30 motorway encircling the capital, there were queues outside Museo del Prado and packed terraces from Malasaña to Chamartín. 'August is no longer what it used to be in Madrid, which used to be completely deserted at this time of year,' it stated.
The change is partly practical. A modern economy and society means that Spaniards now tend to split their holidays between July and August, meaning that half the capital is never away at the same time. Madrid itself has also been recast as a summer destination, drawing international tourists who once dismissed it in favour of the coast. Where the locals flee, visitors fill the gap, and lately many locals are not fleeing at all.
City festivals once forgotten are now thronged. The old fiestas castizas of San Cayetano, San Lorenzo and La Paloma, held in the working-class barrios of Embajadores and Lavapiés, were until recently all but abandoned by madrileños in mid-August. Now the streets are buzzing.
Even the 38C evening heat appears to deter few. Madrid often closes Retiro Park during very hot weather, over fears about falling branches. The closures prompted criticism from local associations which said such safety concerns overlooked the benefits of shade for residents.
At the top end of the market, hotels have recorded a rise in August bookings by up to 15 per cent compared with last summer. 'We've noticed more guests in summer than last year,' said Andrés Evia, director of the JW Marriott hotel.
Many restaurants once resigned to an August lull are staying open. The phenomenon is not unique to Madrid. Across Spain, the summer calendar is stretching, with low-cost flights and Instagram itineraries turning the Rodríguez fantasy of a hushed city into something of an anachronism.
The city then launched its 'Open Madrid' campaign to attract visitors, staging free cultural events. It has been a resounding success. Now it has Veranos de la Villa, a summer cultural programme, that boasts light shows, concerts and the Virgen de la Paloma festival, a former neighbourhood booze-up turned formal party that happened this weekend.
But for those nostalgic about the passing of a sacred part of Madrid life, all is not lost. From our central Madrid flat, parking spaces are visible. Many of the local shopkeepers, at least those who have survived the onslaught of gentrification, have pulled down their shutters. A modicum of peace prevails.
However, for some residents the idea of remaining in Madrid in August is abhorrent. An 84-year-old lady, suffering from heatstroke this week, stoically leant against a wall of our neighbourhood until an ambulance arrived, a reminder of the risks of the rising temperatures. Also unpleasant is the pungent smell of urine, with which late-night revellers coat the city's streets and which the heat does little to improve. 'We always leave in August because of the stench,' a neighbour said.
But such trivialities do not deter the staunch Rodríguez. His species may still survive in the city but now he shares his table and his traffic jams with visitors from Lima to Los Angeles.
