It was important to me that I returned to Madrid on Saturday to properly recognize and celebrate Easter on Sunday. With this restriction, there were only two flights from Florence to Madrid in our price range, and both had long layovers in Düsseldorf, Germany. Düsseldorf, then, became our sixth and final city!
After some difficulty with the cab drivers at the airport, prompting the information desk attendant to advise us not to let “those bastards toss us around,” we secured one of the sleek, black, Mercedes Benz taxis, operated by a woman who had to be older than 70. She brought us to Altstadt, or the Old Town, honking the horn and grunting German frustrations along the way.
Altstadt is a pleasant part of Düsseldorf located on the Rhine River waterfront. Crowded with people, from bikers and runners to families and elders, the Rhine Promenade was the perfect place to take a travel break. The Altstadt district also boasts the “longest bar in the world,” (which should be clarified as the longest avenue of bars in the world), so we strolled down the street in search of a restaurant where we could relax.
Aiming to fill our stomachs with hearty German fare before our next flight, we chose, at random, Hausbrauerei Zum Schlüssel, for lunch. Restaurant in the front, brewery in the back, and filled with people, it seemed like a good option. I ordered pork schnitzel, which I had never tried before, because it sounded like German thing to do (and it is one of Julie Andrews’ favorite things— has she ever led you wrong?). The schnitzel, as it turns out, is simply breaded meat, and mine was most certainly frozen before it was served to me. The side of roasted potatoes, however, was delicious, definitely the best potatoes I’ve ever had. Corresponding with our get-in/get-out sprint to make the most of our layover, our waitress was also a no-nonsense lady, embodying the stereotypical German way. Like the taxi driver, she was one of the best women to work with on our hasty schedule. After paying for our meal (and 6€ for a bottle of water!), we headed back to the airport and flew home to Madrid.
With a long week of travel preceding my Easter Sunday, I was happy to slow down and appreciate the special day. While away, I had missed most of the traditional Spanish, Semana Santa proceedings, but there was one event left for Pascua. Performed every Easter in Plaza Mayor, the Tamborada del Domingo de Resurección is a drumming display that symbolizes the trembling of the Earth as Jesus died on the cross. A different representative group is chosen to play every year, but the musicians customarily don purple, the color of Lent. I was entertained by the joyful cadences and was impressed by the group’s professionalism, especially considering the age range of performers. Though it seemed like I was surrounded by more tourists than madrileños, the encompassing presence of God was what mattered most.
After the Easter drums, my roommate and I enjoyed brunch at a restaurant that I had had my eye on for weeks. La Rollerie, just outside of Plaza Mayor, had attractive decor and an alluring menu. Too cold to dine outside, we ate in the whitewashed front room adorned with fake but festive flowers and fruit. I ordered La Rollerie salad of fried Brie and teriyaki vinaigrette, and my friend and I shared the cheese fondue. Though pricey, the dip was worth it, as we almost ate the entire dish, bread bowl and all.
To end our Easter Sunday, we stopped in La Mallorquina. One of Madrid’s most popular bakeries, La Mallorquina’s two-story building is always crowded, and so for me, avoided. For this special occasion, however, we took home a mona de Pascua, or a Spanish pastry bread holding a hard boiled egg, served only on Easter. I did not eat the egg with the pastry, and my experience has me questioning if anyone actually does…
Though a holiday church service, preferably closed with the Hallelujah Chorus, is my typical Easter Sunday, I did my best to experience Pascua like the madrileños.
- The mother of the girl that I tutor is from a small village outside of Madrid. When I asked her what she did to celebrate Easter, she explained that she revived a fading Spanish tradition with her family. The night before Easter, she, her siblings, and their children filled an outfit of old clothes with straw, just like a scarecrow. This being symbolized Judas. On Easter, they burned the straw man, punishing him for his betrayal. I found it an odd practice, especially to promote among children. Perhaps this is why it is no longer as common as it once was…
- 40213 Düsseldorf, Germany
- Hausbrauerei Zum Schlüssel
- Bolkerstraße 43, 40213 Düsseldorf, Germany
- Plaza Mayor
- La Rollerie
- Atocha 20, 20218 Madrid
- La Mallorquina
- Calle Mayor, 2, 28013 Madrid
Paz, Amor, Madrid