Of Madrid and mortality

We went up to Madrid for the weekend with a few of Maggie's teacher pals. We went by train, stayed in cheap digs, drank far too much in expensive bars, took in a couple of exhibitions and generally soaked up a bit of Madrid street life.

Maggie has a real soft spot for Madrid, as she lived there for three years, but I never think of it as one of Europe's outstanding cities. The weather wasn't that great (we were forced to sit out one hail shower in the bar of the restaurant we were just leaving), we were a bit disorganised and tended to drift a bit but we still managed to have a decent enough time.

When I got home an old pal, someone I've more or less lost touch with, had sent me an email to say that his sister had died of a brain tumour. She and I stepped out when we were both younger. Sobering and horrid to think that she will get no older.