El Escorial.

With a tiny hangover and droopy eyelids, we left for El Escorial by the 11.30 bus. As pretty as the outskirts of Madrid might be, the crowd at the bus stand surprised me, for, where we were headed is not really a tourist location. It seems to attract a more intellectual or old Spanish folk. Which, I believe, is not a bad thing.
The lack of street signs did hinder us a little, but the serenity was worth it.
The palace and the monastery remains well taken care of, reinforcing the fact that the Spaniards like their tradition and culture.
Recently I read an article by Adorno and Horkheimer, criticising the creation of mass culture. This place certainly redeems Spain for its Burger King outlets and The Sorcerer's Apprentice posters. What I saw was preservation, in order to hang on to that exquisite amalgamated culture that Spain was.
Terror, though, has caught up with everything and this old palace wasn't left behind. Thorough checking was done, making sure no one carried any dangerous items. Of course, cameras were not allowed. Though, most of the times in such places, it's just a guideline and not a rule. But here it wasn't so.
I must admit it was a little disappointing, but memory must serve me well for this one. And it will, because it was a memorable trip.