The Spanish have a cultural tradition, not quite understood in the States because we tend to drive and not quite understood in other major European cities because they’re always in too much of a rush, of going for a walk, simply for the walk itself. This Sunday pastime always struck me as amusing in Salamanca, where the city was so small that the old couples would have to spend their time parading down just one or two streets, and then in several slow and deliberate circles around the Plaza Mayor. Those most represented in Madrid are young families, and from this perspective I understand the utility of the event. The kids cannot be kept in the house all day, both for their own health and safety and for that of their parents; the urban California version of this, I seem to recall, was driving around the immediate and surrounding neighborhoods in search of garage sales.
But that slow and easy stroll, that is so very natural to the Spanish, is still so very uncomfortable for me. I admire it as a way to spend relaxed family time, or, if one happens to be alone, thinking time, so I’ve been trying to ease myself into the idea. For most of my tenure in Madrid my personal version has been to get up Sunday morning, make my way to an unknown metro stop, get breakfast, and then try to find my way home. I like this, but I cannot pretend that it is true to the original. In these Sunday adventures I always have a goal… never am I simply walking for the sake of the walk.
So yesterday I decided to try a true paseo. I left my apartment and marched towards the Retiro park, my feet moving faster and faster as my mind moved from thought to thought. By the time I arrived in the park I had worked myself up into a mild state of panic at the thought of all the things that I needed to get done, that I could be doing, but the pacing had also taken the edge off my energy. I took a deep breath, and proceeded into the park. Retiro is amazingly beautiful in the spring… with each and every tree at full leafy capacity… an Eastertime wonderland. And so I strolled, at my best Spanish pace, enjoying the dappled sunlight, the smiling faces, and the fresh air. I circled through the rose garden, around the lake, and then headed home and back to work. It was a little bit uncomfortable, and not that remarkable, but, if only for a moment, I was able to calm my mind. And that, being the holy grail of mental states, was probably worth the effort.
