International Museum day

Another day to celebrate, so I went to the capital to take in some museums. No sooner had I arrived in Madrid than I was at the Atocha station asking for directions on how to find the Reina Sofia museum and then on a guided tour. Just before 4:00pm I went to stand with a small group of visitors at the tour desk. Just after the hour I noticed the man behind the desk start to make enquiries asking if anyone had seen the guide. A short while later an older woman with bright red hair came walking in quickly and when she reached the entrance she turned and walked away from us. The man came running out from behind the desk calling ´Maria Jose, Maria Jose´. As they walked towards us you could hear him explaining to her that we were her group and she seemed a little surprised. As we were introduced someone asked what we would see on the tour and she replied that we were going to see some of her favourite works of art on the 2nd floor and that it was not worth going to the 4th floor because the works were too abstract for anyone to understand.

Up we went in the glass elevators to stop first at a small model of the museum where she explained its layout and her discontent with the new extension that was being constructed. The parliamentary guide evaluator side of made a small note of her lack of objectivity and neutrality, but more than anything else I was intrigued by her frankness. I had overhead an explanation to some visitors before the tour started that the museum guides were all volunteers and retired people. She had a lively presence and the men on the tour followed her quite closely. It was as if we were a group of her friends that she was showing around. We would arrive at a painting and she would start to mention the things she liked about it. It was occasionally pointed out by a visitor that the name on the display card suggested a different painter and she would say thank you, take a closer look at the card and continue.

My favourite part of the tour was her emotive description of ´Guernica´. She took time to carefully describe each character, the intensity of Picasso´s work and her memory of being six years old during the war. For group interaction while looking at one of Dali´s paintings she would ask´I am not sure what that is, does anyone know?´ At that point I also noticed that one of the men wasn´t just paying close attention to the guide and surprised me, just after viewing the Guernica mural, by opening up his bag and taking out a chocolate bar and offering it to me. Now two hours into the tour, the visitors were now her friends and they convinced her to move onto the fourth floor, at which point I sadly had to excuse myself to catch a train to meet my friend in Guadalajara.

Then no sooner had I arrived in Guadalajara than I found myself part of my friend´s Karate class, which was another adventure.