We’ve picked out five of the best options for any visitor to Madrid – but we’re merely scratching the surface.

Eat at the oldest restaurant in the world

In terms of shameless box-ticking, this one is right up there. But it’s undoubtedly a cool thing to say you’ve done. According to Guinness World Records, La Casa Botín on Calle de los Cuchilleros has been dishing up food for longer than any other restaurant on earth, and has been in operation since 1725. It’s a little bit of a tourist trap, but it’s undoubtedly packed with charm. The big, antique wooden doors lead upstairs to a wooden-beamed roof, blue-and-white tiled walls, rickety chairs and lots of paintings.

Madrid's Casa Botin, the oldest restaurant in the world!

The waiters are dressed up in an almost comically smart manner, with white tuxedos and black bow ties, while the hand painted ceramic sangria jugs are just gorgeous.

But what about the food? Well there’s a reason that Casa Botín has been around for so long – its cochinillo (suckling pig) is legendary. There’s no attempt to spare the heart strings as it comes out – the little piglet’s tail is still on – but you’ll struggle to find more tender, juicy meat. For literature lovers, Casa Botín also features at the end of Ernest Hemingway’s novel, The Sun Also Rises.

Go on a tapas crawl

Of course, Madrid’s other great dining option is to keep consuming little bits over the course of an evening. Well, I say evening, but when done the Madrid way, it inevitably stretches long into the night as well. Madrid is a sensational city for nightlife – it’s a city with thousands of small bars rather than the big barn-like joints that can be found elsewhere. Each has its own distinct vibe, and crawling around them is tremendous fun.

As is the Spanish way, a lot of the bars will serve small tapas portions to people buying a drink. Most of the time, these will be free of charge but where they’re not, the raciones are rarely expensive.

The Chueca area is arguably the best place to go for a tapas bar crawl. It’s just off Gran Via in central Madrid, and there’s an incredible array of bars. Some are aimed at the gay community, some are more upmarket wine bars, some are packed with foreign backpackers and some are the Spanish equivalent of old men pubs.

The variety is awesome, and by the end of the crawl, you’ll almost certainly be turning away the free food. (You can book a tapas tour in Madrid over on the Viator website, a great Madrid night activity.)

Get your art fix

Madrid is fortunate enough to play host to three of the world’s greatest art galleries, and all are relatively close to each other. The granddaddy of the trio is the Museo del Prado. Housed in the grandiose Palacia de Villanueva, the Prado features practically all of art’s big names from down the centuries. From Spain, Velázquez, Goya and El Greco are heavily represented, while other parts of the museum cover everything from Bosch to Botticelli.

Second on the gallery list is the Centro de Arte Reina Sofía. The emphasis swings towards modern art here, and it contains some fantastic works by Salvador Dali and Wassily Kandinsky.

The reason many visit the Reina Sofía is to see Pablo Picasso’s masterpiece, however. Guernica is Picasso’s epic interpretation of a bombing in the Spanish Civil War; it takes pride of place and usually has a gaggle of visitors around it.

And then there’s also the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, which is the happy medium between the Prado and the Reina Sofía. Van Gogh, Renoir, Tintoretto, Cezanne and Matisse are just some of the masters on display in here. (Note - you can get free or reduced admission to many galleries in Madrid using a Madrid city pass.)

Walk through El Retiro

This former Royal park is now open to all, and it’s an absolute treasure. It’s at the back of the Prado, and it’s the place where Madrid’s frenetic pace gets taken down a few notches. You don’t really have to do anything more than go for a stroll and maybe partake in an ice cream, but for those wanting a little more, there’s always the option of the boating lake.

El Retiro Park in Madrid

The lake glimmers in the sun, and a popular weekend pastime is to hire out a rowing boat and go for a splash around the ducks. On the eastern side of the lake is one of Madrid’s most impressive buildings – the mausoleum of King Alfonso XII.

The park also has a couple of fairly unique sights. El Ángel Caido is one of the few statues of the devil in the world, while the Palacio de Cristal is a glorious glass building in the middle of the park. The latter often hosts small exhibitions.

Go on the Real Madrid stadium tour

Real Madrid is the most successful football club of all time, and that’s not just the opinion of its own marketing department. The club has won nine European Cups and so many domestic trophies that they could probably be melted down and turned into a life-size replica of the Statue of Liberty. For football fans, therefore, heading to the Santiago Bernabeu stadium in Madrid is something of a pilgrimage.

Even for those who haven’t got the faintest interest in the sport, the self-guided tour is pretty fascinating. It takes visitors up to the best vantage points in the (enormous) stadium, before taking them through the club’s proud history.

Santiago Bernabeu Stadium, Madrid

All the silverware is on display, and there’s the chance to have your photograph taken with the Champions League trophy. Towards the end, the trail leads out to the pitch itself. You’re not allowed on the hallowed turf, alas, but it is possible to sit in the managerial dug-out. They’ve installed some rather fancy comfy seats there.

The tour then goes through the dressing rooms before it ends, somewhat predictably, in a shop where you can buy all manner of merchandise. (You can book a joint Madrid city tour and tour of Real Madrid’s Santiago Bernabeu stadium over on the Viator site.)

-David Whitley

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s Madrid tours & things to do in Madrid.

Digging myself a whole trench full of trouble. Everyone knows the Northern Lights are capricious at best, downright elusive the rest of the time.

But since childhood I’d wanted to see them. Lured by photographs, stories, the magical nature of them – it was on my list of life aims, and I’d already ticked off the Pyramids and climbing Everest (okay, one of these is a lie). So here I was in Iceland. This was my chance.

Iceland: Cold, crisp, cloudless

I’d been told about the three Cs: Cold, Crisp, Cloudless. There are the three essential climatic factors necessary for the aurora to do its thing. Gazing out the bus window at the end of a long day touring the Golden Circle (Pingvellir, Gullfoss and Geysir), I realised it was certainly a cloudless night; I could see the mere sliver of a moon rising over the plains. Stepping off the bus at our last stop in the steamy thermal town of Hveragerdi, I realised it was also cold and crisp. Very, for both.

The magical green lights of the Aurora Borealis

Whipping out my phone I rang my resident friend in Reykjavik for advice. She’d also never seen the Aurora even though she’d lived there for a year. But whenever she mentioned it to Icelandic friends they shrugged, said: “Oh, you can see that anytime.”

How casual we are about what’s on our doorstep. But this wouldn’t be my doorstep much longer and I revved my friend up to sharing my belief that tonight was the night the skies would dance for us.

On your mark, get set, shine

Reaching the bus terminal in Reykjavik, I joined the queue to buy tickets for a Northern Lights Tour. As if six hours on a bus already that day had not been enough for me. Obviously I was not the only true believer in the three-C quality of that night – 70 people were booked for the tour! And that was only one company. Several other operators in town were herding fellow seekers onto buses at various times in the evening.

We’d debated just getting my friend’s car and heading out of town alone, away from the city lights. But again, that Icelandic shrug in the face of where we should go to optimise our chances of seeing the lights: “You see them everywhere. Or nowhere. North is good. Far north.”

Thanks, but not helpful.

We decided to increase the odds by joining the bus tour. Surely they’d know how to entice the magic out of the sky. My friend and I exchanged a look as the doors closed and our guide cheerfully announced we would be heading south!

Our spirits rose a moment later when he finished a phone call and announced that his friend in the south coast town on Vik had just reported that the northern lights were going crazy tonight. Seventy happy people cheered. Even if half of us wondered if he always started the tour with that announcement.

Next stop, Aurora Borealis

A cheerful local with anecdotes to keep us entertained on the dark and anxious road ahead, he told us that we were the same as whale-watchers: our job was to be constantly alert, yelling out if we saw anything flickering in the sky. Obediently we all stared out into the darkness, trying not to be blinded by passing headlights, or yell out at every passing aeroplane.

As we drove on, he told us stories of his days in the local rescue squad, having to assist people on the highway when sudden snowfalls vanquished inadequate cars. Suddenly I understood why everyone in Iceland drives such huge four wheel drives down such narrow city streets. Forgiven. Now if they could just learn to park the damn things…

Lulled by the hum of the bus, I gazed tiredly out the window, looking at the white light reflecting off the undersides of clouds. For a small city, Reykjavik certainly threw a lot of light pollution! Or not! The guide announced we had ‘activitiy’ in the sky and the driver looked for a side road to pull onto. We were like kids nearing a candyshop as we all pulled on coats and hats and jumped up and down in our seats. Finally, he found a suitable spot and we all piled out.

People ran up the embankment, trampling years old moss in their haste to raise their cameras and capture this phenomenon. I stared and nodded excitedly into the dark alongside my friend, but really, deep inside, my heart was breaking. Was this it? Because it really did look like light pollution. Where were the colours? The shimmery dancing movements?

As my spirits dropped, and camera flashes piercing the dark messed with my pupils, I stepped around the moss and climbed back onto the bus. Somewhere in my bag I had emergency Sirius brand chocolate, Iceland’s finest; right now I needed it.

George Clooney? Whatever

Finally everyone was herded back on board and we continued our journey south. I sucked on the chocolate and tried to make appropriately enthusiastic noises about what we’d seen. Perhaps this was what meeting George Clooney in person would be like. I made a mental note to scrap that off my list.

Another half an hour and more ‘activity’ was spotted. We rugged up, pulled over and piled out. My spirits lifted a little: there was a definite tinge of green. And was that pink over there? Sure, it still looked a little like thin cloud. The Milky Way with a bit of food dye splashed on. But it was pretty. And, if not for all those damn camera flashes going off, it would be a pretty nice moment. Kind of like a first kiss with a guy you used to think was a prince. Hmm, mental note to take kissing Clooney off my list.

By the time the ‘activity’ faded away, we were all so cold we were happy to get back on the bus. We headed into a small town – who knows its name but there were boats, fish factories, and corrugated iron houses: I challenge you to tell that apart from the next Icelandic town in the dark! Here we had a quick chocolate buying frenzy and toilet break. The girls behind the counter looked none too happy to see 20 women line up for the bathroom – apparently there was a barn dance in town that night and they were keen to be strutting their stuff.

Finally one brave soul broke ranks and headed into the deserted Men’s. A few others followed, one woman exiting as if she’d just experienced the most exciting taboo shattering of her life. A memorable tour for her definitely.

Our guide announced that he was not sure we would see much more that evening so we were going to head back to town. We’d been on the hunt for over two hours already and everyone was cold and tired so there were no complaints. Although I have to say I remained a bit saddened by the lack of spectacle. Was this really the Northern Lights?

Then my friend, the semi-local, confessed she’s been chatting to the guide, practising her Icelandic, while the rest of us craned our necks at the sky. He’d told her that there is a scale of 0 to 5 for the Aurora with 0 being the lowest strength; unfortunately tonight was a 0. But I was actually heartened by the news: it did get better than this! I just knew it had to! Yippee.

And better it got.

The aurora of my dreams

As we were nearing Reykjavik, there was a shout and the bus stopped. Obediently we bundled into coats and hats and scarves and gloves, and left our warm, comfy seats. And wow! The sky was on fire! This was the Aurora as I had hoped. And it was still probably only a 2.

Huge swathes of colour swirled in the sky, greeny, pinky. Always shifting and changing. Then a band of light would suddenly dance across the sky, shimmering and flickering, moving swiftly past before disappearing. We distinctly saw a face form in one corner and gasped. As quickly it was gone but I nearly became a Believer on the spot. Perhaps it was five minutes, perhaps half an hour, then the magic was over. My neck was sore and I didn’t care.

I’d seen the Aurora and I was a very happy woman.

Heading back to the city, I discovered the reason others had persisted with their camera flashes when I’d got nothing. (Yes, I admit, I started the night trying to photograph it too, before I realised it was futile and I just enjoyed the moment instead.) The secret is long shutter speed, and apparently shining a light beam into the camera lens. Don’t ask me for whys and hows; I’m just telling you what I heard.

But with or without camera, go to Iceland. Go Aurora hunting. There’s no guarantee you’ll see it, this being one of nature’s most fragile tricks. But if you do… Wowza!

-Phillipa Burne

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s Iceland tours & things to do in Iceland, including the Golden Circle Tour and an Aurora Borealis night tour from Reykjavik.

The 2010 Passion Play in Oberammergau, Germany, is a once-a-decade event that takes over, consumes, and essentially overwhelms the entire town of Oberammergau. Once every 10 years, more than half of this Bavarian village’s 5,000 inhabitants take part as actors in the world-famous Oberammergau Passion Play.

Stage of the Oberammergau Passion Play

The local residents join together with director Christian Stückl (manager of Munich’s renowned Volkstheater), stage designer Stefan Hageneier, and music directors Markus Zwink and Michael Bocklet to stage this solemn and meticulous play depicting the suffering and death of Jesus the Nazarene. The plot has not changed in structure since the first performance in 1634; it begins with Christ’s entry into Jerusalem on a donkey, and winds up with a dramatic Crucifixion scene.

Scene from the Oberammergau Passion Play

This highly emotional play is expected to be watched by more than 500,000 people between May and October 2010, over a series of 102 performances. This is the 41st performance of the Oberammergau Passion Play itself - it’s always performed once a decade, and has been since 1634.

Why Oberammergau, you may ask?

The answer can be traced back to one of several outbreaks of the bubonic plague that struck Europe in medieval times. When faced with the horror of the disease in 1633, the villagers of Oberammergau vowed to perform a Passion Play both the next year and every 10 years thereafter, should they be spared from the disease.

Houses in Oberammergau

In 1634 they kept their promise and the Oberammergau Passion Play was born. Only twice (due to political reasons in 1770 and the World War II in 1940) has the Passion Play not taken place. Nowadays it is a permanent feature, held the last year in each decade here in Oberammergau.

How is the play organized?

As you would expect from an event organized in Germany, no detail is left to chance in the planning of the Passion Play! The cast, who must be born in Oberammergau or have resided here for at least 20 years, are chosen a full year in advance of the first play. Why? Mainly because the men must grow out their hair and facial hair to effectively depict their characters.

Where can I find tickets to the Oberammergau Passion Play?

Ah, we thought you’d never ask!

It is very, very difficult to book tickets. The Passion Play ticket policy requires that all tickets for non-German residents are reserved by tour operators and sold as part of tour packages. That’s where we can help. We at Viator have searched hard to source the best-value package and are delighted to present our 3-Day Oberammergau Passion Play tour from Munich.

The tour - which includes train travel from Munich, a choice of two accommodation options and two “category two” tickets for the Passion Play - is ideal for people who want to see the Passion Play without being restricted to a specific tour itinerary. In other words, it’s perfect if you are holidaying in central Europe next summer and are desperate to witness this unique event, but want a degree of flexibility and independence on the way.

Be warned: all tickets must be returned to the Passion Play office a full 3 months prior to every performance date, so book now to guarantee your seat at Oberammergau 2010!

-Viator Travel Team

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s Munich tours & things to do in Munich, including multi-day tours from Munich.

San Calisto catacomb in Rome

We are introduced to our guide – Angelo. It turns out we are all early and so head off ahead of schedule – first stop is a comfortable tour bus. The title of the tour is Crypts and Catacombs and so aptly our first destination is the catacombs of Saint Calisto – one small part of a huge network of catacombs in Rome.

Rome’s catacombs: A little history

As we work our way across the tapestry that is ancient and modern Rome, Angelo fills us in on the background of the catacombs and the reason for their existence. The Catacombs are basically underground burial chambers dug outside the walls of Rome by the early Christians. They are something of an enigma as they were created at a time when Christianity was illegal in the Roman Empire and yet this huge network spanning almost 150 miles in total was allowed to flourish.

In the capable hands of our guide

Angelo informs us that for the early Christians it was vital to be buried whole due to a very literal belief in the resurrection. Contemporary Romans were, in contrast, being cremated in what was seen as a far more hygienic method of disposal (for them, the Day of Judgment was of little importance and the idea of having intact bodies being buried inside the walls of Rome anathema).

Once outside the ancient walls we wind our way down the Appia Antica – one of Rome’s most ancient of roads. The city has given way to fields and Roman ruins and a large flock of sheep munch at the grass. Soon we arrive at the Catacombs of Saint Calisto and with a long bamboo stick to hand Angelo gives us a brief rundown of how they were built and how the earth called Tufa is perfect for the job (soft to dig but hardens nicely once left in contact with the air).

Descending into the catacombs of Rome

The time to head underground arrives (unfortunately photography is not allowed, in respect to the dead and buried Christians). As we descend the air becomes dank and clammy and it’s a little chilly. Immediately we enter high corridors cut into the earth with banks of little tombs cut into the sides of varying sizes. Angelo guides us to various points of interest which include high ventilation shafts, a papal room which unfortunately had clearly been ransacked before restoration but which nonetheless was the burial site of some very early Popes.

Into the catacombs!

We continue down more labyrinthine alleys full of tombs to rooms containing simple and strangely innocent frescoes where families would have been buried. The atmosphere is strange and not very comfortable. There is a sense of the place being emptied and indeed Angelo had mentioned that the Barbarians and had a bit of a rummage no doubt hoping to find some precious possessions but they would have been disappointed as the Christians were buried without precious goods and then later bone collectors would have dug out these early Christians selling the bones as holy relics.

The place is a little spooky probably not helped by the fact that it is Halloween and I am relieved when we head back up into the October sunshine.

Basilica of St Clement

We head back into Rome and, not far from the Colosseum, we enter the Basilica of St Clement who Angelo has informed us on the way in, used to preach in the second century and so incensed the Romans that they sent him to the Black Sea salt mines where his ardour still persisted and at the point where he started converting soldiers they tied him to an anchor and threw him in the sea – St Cyril (creator of the Cyrillic alphabet) was said to have gathered his remains and brought him back to Rome. On entering the Basilica one is struck by the stunning beauty of the mosaic work in the apse but the tour is about crypts so we first head underground to the amazing discovery the Irish Friar Joseph Mullooly made when hearing water rushing underneath the church.

In trying to find the source of the water Mullooly succeeded in uncovering first the foundations of the early church which are interesting but pale in significance to the lower layer which reveal the site of an ancient Mithraic temple site complete with a stunning piece of sculpted marble showing Mythras slaying a bull whose blood has unfortunately been corrupted by the bite of a snake – the idea of evil entering the world.

Outside the Basilica St Clement

Angelo describes the remarkable similarities between the Mithraic cult (which was highly popular) and that of Christianity which include the seven deadly sins and the importance of the ritual of bread and wine. We enter more ancient Roman rooms and find the source of the rushing water - an ancient underwater system still alive and well. St Clement really has a magic to it that I felt needed more time to savour, particularly the Basilica itself but we head off onto the bus for the Capuchin crypt.

Jaw bones and shoulder blades at the Capuchin Crypt

This last Crypt is real live horror. We are bullied into giving a one euro donation by the woman at the door and told in no uncertain terms no photographs whatsoever are allowed. The spectacle that greets us is one of macabre sculptures made out of the bones of Capuchin monks with the stark message repeated in various forms of symbolism that our time on earth is limited and we should all look to the salvation of our souls as soon as possible. Hour glasses are sculpted out of shoulder blades and as I look above me a line of jaw bones dance one after the other across the ceiling. Skulls are piled on high like something out of a Pol Pot massacre. It’s grim with mummified monks in their habits holding court but so artfully done that it fascinates.

Once more it’s pleasant to return to the fresh air of the Via Veneto and to be told one last tasty morsel of information – that it was on the Via Veneto that the inventor of the cappuccino whilst struggling to find a name noticed the distinctive brown habit of a Capuchin monk and eureka … the cappuccino was born.

The tour is just the right length and leaves the most startling spectacle till last which helps as ones concentration starts to flag. St Clements is a very special church and warrants more time upstairs but the trip out to the Appia Antica catacombs really makes you feel that you have done a genuine bit of travelling. Overall one gets a real sense of early Christian history and its preoccupation with death.

-Laurence Belgrave

Planning a trip? Brose Viator’s Rome tours & things to do in Rome, including Rome walking tours & biking tours such as the Rome catacombs tour and the catacombs and Rome countryside walkig tour.

First let me explain my reason for a budget-friendly jaunt in Spain. For while I have back-packed and couch-surfed with the best of them in days gone by, these days I prefer my travel inclusive of a few of life’s little luxuries like decent restaurants and beds without bedbugs. A recent visit to Madrid, however, came with a hefty price tag before we’d even touched down, courtesy of tickets to a Leonard Cohen concert and pre-booked lodgings in the monument to modern design that is the Hotel Peurta de America, our two reasons for visiting the Spanish capital.

Madrid on a budget? Yes, it is still possible. Maggie has suggestions for you.

We knew we had to look for ways to cut costs in other areas. With a little bit of forward planning and some bumbled Spanish phrase work, we were able to limit our supplementary spending considerably and still see some of the best Madrid has to offer.

Making the most of your euros in Madrid

Madrid is no rambler’s paradise. It lacks Barcelona’s labyrinthine alleyways filled with smoke-stained tapas bars and quirky boutique. London, with its green spaces and Victorian buildings, is lovely to stroll through, In cities like Paris, you can happily wander for hours, rarely opening your wallet, and still feel like you have glimpsed the city’s soul. Like sharing a smile with a complete stranger across a crowded room.

Madrid, however, especially on a hot day, can be dirty, noisy, and unappealing if you don’t know where to go. More like a bad date at an amusement park. As in any big metropolis, bland pedestrian malls littered with retail chains and big name labels are fairly easy to find. In the case of Madrid, this is Gran Via for the High Street stuff and the glamorous Salamanca district (in particular Calle de Goya) for the more luxurious offerings.

Given our meagre budget, however, we weren’t keen to join the ranks of boggle eyed window shoppers. We wanted to experience a bit of the Real Madrid (pun intended). So we hopped on the train.

Eating & sleeping (not always on the cheap)

Madrid’s Metro system is vast, easy to navigate, and cheap. For 1 euro you can traverse the city, and 7.40 euros will get you 10 tickets – enough for a long weekend’s worth of travel. Clear signage displaying a simple system of colours and numbers means you can work it out as you go along. We didn’t encounter a single station without an escalator or lift, meaning that even travel with heavy suitcases was manageable. Very useful for us given that we arrived on a Friday evening just as Madrid’s streets were clogging up with taxis ferrying clubbers to lofty podiums and strobing subterranes. The Metro was a much cheaper way to get to our hotel and I suspect even marginally quicker than a cab.

Our first night in the Peurta de America - in the immaculate chamber that was the White Zaha Hadid Club Suite - revived us sufficiently to hit the streets early the next day. First thing on the agenda was the sourcing of olives and cheese, two provisions we have reluctantly discontinued since relocating to Iceland, where import duties leave a very bitter taste in one’s mouth. It’s far better, we have conceded, to enjoy proper deli goods in situ as part of the overseas experience.

Our suite at the Zaha Hadid

The sidewalk was verily slick with our own salivation from thoughts of tapas bars festooned with olives and walled with blocks of cheese. We assumed we were in for a merry old time of it. Not so. In fact, all we managed to unearth in the streets surrounding our hotel was grimy sports bars and endless offerings of potato tortilla. And then we stumbled on a supermarket, a veritable Mecca for impoverished travellers everywhere.

This particular store was filled with excitingly unfamiliar groceries (my preferred litmus test for local culture), an abundance of fresh fruit and vegies, an impressive seafood section (the crustaceans were actually moving!), and a deli section staffed by a squadron of staff dishing up olives, cheese and meats of all kinds. Ay caramba!

Stocking up on supermarket goodies, including fresh rye bread and a thrillingly inexpensive bottle of plonk, we savoured a hotel picnic back in our alabaster abode before hopping the Metro to the Chueca district – the barrio de homosexual and reportedly the place to go for good shopping, dahhling.

In & around Calle Fuencarral

Disembarking the Metro at Sol station, we unwittingly fell into the slipstream of pedestrians flowing down the pedestrian mall, making a few accidental breakthroughs in the field of deli-foraging. Contentment, thine name is Manchego cheese. Wandering with, and then against, the crowd, we discovered the usual offering of chain stores, and a couple of exceptional retail oddities, such as the fan shop and ballet store stocked full of pointe shoes and tarantella skirts, transporting me straight back to my childhood.

But the Chueca beckoned, so we made our way towards the smaller streets of Calle Fuencarral and Calle Augusto Figueroa. That’s when things started to get interesting. The way was peppered with flamboyantly gay couples and lycra-clad prostitutes. The shops were filled with cheap shoes. Mountains of them. There were boutiques of various kinds too – fashion stores, health shops, sunglasses and accessories vendors – but if you are after an affordable retail thrill in Madrid, I suggest you start with footwear. And we would have done just that, if not for the ticking clock. We had a date with Leonard.

Madrid's Museo de Reina Sofia

It’s irrelevant in a blog about frugal travel experiences, I know, but just in case you’re interested, the Leonard Cohen concert experience was sublime. After five self-effacing encores, prompted by twice as many ovations, he left me with the feeling that I had just witnessed the last of the great entertainers. Prolific, intelligent, humble, he let his songs do the talking rather than merely being the humanoid accompaniment to an expensive pyrotechnics showcase. The man and his songs are all you need. No public relations or media gimmicks required. And it’s my other half who is the diehard fan; I was essentially a tag-along.

Post-concert experience, we spent our second night in the Hadid suite sopping up the remains of the olives and wine and soaking in the cavernous bath. The height of luxury and a perfect way to recharge for another day of penny-pinching.

Madrid’s museum trail

Some forward-thinking internet research had revealed that if we visited the Museo de Reina Sofia after 2.30pm on a Saturday or from 10am-2.30pm on a Sunday, we would pay precisely nada for entry. Given that the Reina Sofia houses a staggering collection of Picassos (including Guernica, back in Spain after two years in New York), countless Dalis, Calders, Miros and other Spanish masters, this was an opportunity too good to pass up. And so we took the metro to Atocha Renfe and joined the Sunday morning crowds. This museum is big and its collection worth taking the time to appreciate. The gnashing teeth and protuberant tongues of the Picassos are offset by the uncomplicated joy of the Miros and the calm balance of the Calders. Green spaces located in the inner courtyards provide opportunity for reflection and escape from the deluge of art inside.

Next on the list was the Museo Nacional de Prado. Entrance in free on Sunday from 5-8pm. In reference to the size of the gallery’s permanent collection, three different visitor routes are suggested. We selected the one-hour route, which highlighted masterpieces by El Greco, Fra Angelica, Rubens and Rembrandt. Not bad for a free afternoon.

If ambling is your cup of sangria, stay within the streets of the historic centre and pay a visit to the Plaza Mayor and the Palacio Real de Madrid, both excellent places to capture the architectural glory of Spain. If markets are more your thing then the Sunday Rastro market, a flea market between Plaza Mayor La Latina and Puerta de Toledo that sells everything under the Spanish sun, might be a better way to spend your remaining Euros. Regrettably we had a train to catch and so had to give it a miss.

Next time.

A word of warning about Madrid: unlike its northern sister Barcelona, English speakers are apparently thin on the ground. If it’s a bargain you’re after, or some local knowledge, it’s well worth taking the time to brush up on your Espanol.

Hello Viatorians, Viatorites, and Viatorinians!

Sorry for the long delay, but I am happy to announce that the next installment of Atlas Obscura’s wonder-inspiring, off-the-beaten-path places that don’t make it into traditional guidebooks is here! This week’s theme is appropriately halloweeny, three Cemeteries, each bizarre and creepy in its own way!

Highgate Cemetery, London

The Merry Cemetery, Romania

The merry cemetery in Săpânţa, Romania is unusual in the candor of its gravestones. Displayed on the wooden crosses in bright pictures and annotated with limericks, are the illustrated lives and deaths of almost everyone who has passed away in the town of Sapanta.

Illustrated crosses depict soldiers being beheaded, a townsperson being hit by a truck, and a man drinking himself to death. The epigraphs reveal a surprising level of frankness. “Underneath this heavy cross. Lies my mother in law poor…Try not to wake her up. For if she comes back home. She’ll bite my head off.”

Merry Cemetery, Sapanta - Romania

Another reads “Ioan Toaderu loved horses. One more thing he loved very much. To sit at a table in a bar. Next to someone else’s wife.”

Highgate Cemetery, London

The story of Highgate Cemetery in London is so outlandish, you couldn’t make it up if you tried. Once one of London’s nicest Victorian burial grounds, by the 1960s it was a dilapidated mess. Used as a location for the infamous Hammer horror films, the site became the focus of a modern “vampire hunt” after witnesses claimed to have seen one.

Two magicians led a battle of one-upmanship to find and kill the supposed vampire. Though no vampire was found the hunters dug up real tombs, staked actual dead bodies and left beheaded (already dead to begin with) corpses strewn throughout 1970s London. It culminated on Friday the 13th in 1973 when a mob of ‘hunters’ from all over London swarmed over gates and walls into the locked cemetery, despite police efforts to control them.”

St. Sebastian’s Cemetery, Salzburg

St. Sebastian’s Cemetery, Salzburg

Medieval Europe had a thing for death. Called “memento mori” and meaning “Remember that you are mortal,” it was a standard theme for churches, paintings, and most of all cemeteries. The St. Sebastian’s Cemetery in Salzburg, Austria has memento mori in spades, covered in skulls with snakes coming from their eyes, bony figures holding hourglasses, and winged skulls, it is a true treat for anyone with a morbid streak.

Among the luminaries buried in this macabre cemetery are Mozart’s wife and father, Archbishop Wolf Dietrich who was disgraced by the church, denied burial in the Cathedral crypt and so is buried here, and Theophrastus Paracelsus alchemist, mystic, scientist and sometimes called “the father of modern medicine.”

-The Atlas Obscura Team

In the past I’ve always stayed in or near the old town (Grad). The walled old city is so spectacularly beautiful that to wake up in the morning and look out the window at all that history is magical. I’ve stayed at the Hilton, which has a great location and lovely old building; at the Excelsior which has waterfront and great views of the sun setting over the old town; and in a private apartment inside the walls with a terrace where we could hear the conversation of people walking the walls.

Dubrovnik - follow your bliss

These private apartments are easy to find as many savvy residents leave town for the summer and earn some money from rentals while escaping the crowds.

Far from the maddening (ice cream) crowd

But there are downsides to being this close to the old town: crowds, heat and expense. Especially in summer. In July and August, fighting your way down the main street, Stradun, through meandering ice-cream licking tourists – many of them there for a day off cruise ships and not even sure what country they are in – while the sun bounces fiercely off the white marble that is everywhere (buildings, pavings) and waiters try to entice you to sit and drink the most expensive coffee in Croatia, can be a little tiring.

Radisson Blu

So this time I got out of town, to a village called Orasac and the new Radisson Blu hotel. Many Dubrovnik hotels are a bit away from the old town, a lot on the Lapad Peninsula. But I figure if you’re going to be out of town, head not for the suburbs of Dubrovnik but for one of the villages. You’re still close enough to make regular easy trips into the city, but far enough to be insulated from the madness.

The bonus is a beach on your doorstep, and in the heat and humidity of Croatian summer, regular dips in the Adriatic become your favourite thing.

Orasac

Orasac sits on a little bay and the hotel, Dubrovnik Sun Gardens, is beside the beach with the village perched on the hill behind. I walked up the many, many steps to the village one day to have coffee with people I met on the beach and trust me, this terrain is steep! Do not make the climb at midday as I did – madness.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to visit one of Orasac’s main attractions: an old-fashioned olive oil press still horse-driven! Apparently, they also make great homemade cheeses and prsut – the local ham. But, I’m a vegetarian anyway – luckily I eat fish though because ham and seafood are specialties of the region.

Eating at Gverovic Orsan

Staggering back down the hill, I fell into the sea. I’ve never actually stayed at this type of resort before - an upmarket mixture of hotel and residence apartments with a street of shops, restaurants, a spa, pools with bars, the beach – for a whole week I could happily have not left, not seen a car, not had to think. Just gazed at the view of the beautiful Elafati Islands from my balcony.

Perhaps hopped on a boat out to the island of Lopud and the beach of Sunj (pronounced Shoon) which I’m told is one of the most beautiful in Croatia, with shallow water out for a long way making it a total kids’ paradise and a couple of simple beach cafes making it a parental godsend.

But I did leave. One night a Croatian friend took me to Gverovic Orsan, a great little restaurant in the next town, Mali Zaton. Right on the water, they cook fish: fresh fish, only fish. No menu, just what was caught that day. A few tables line the water in front of what used to be the owner’s grandfather’s fishing hut. For the last two generations it’s been a restaurant. And so friendly; the owner sat with us for a while chatting. A group of men paddled in from their yacht and sat at the next table. A family brought their dog to sit at their feet while they ate.

Exploring Dubrovnik’s old town

The next day I caught the shuttle boat into Dubrovnik old town. Approaching by sea gave way to flights of fantasy about being a Venetian sailor in centuries gone by. These walls have stood and looked just like this literally for centuries! With red roofs peeping over the top, the old fort to one side (now used for theatre: Hamlet this summer I believe) and the bare hills rearing up behind for a majestic backdrop.

As well as my moment of fantasy time-travel, the advantage of arriving by boat was avoiding the summer traffic which can get pretty jammed in the narrow streets, and arriving on a dock right next to a gate in the walls – a few steps and I was in the thick of the meshing of history and modern life. These days the city has pretty well turned itself over to cafes, souvenir shops and boutiques, but there is still a supermarket and a great bookshop Algoritam with a good English-language section so I haunted these two in my hunt for things to take back to my beach retreat.

Opening of the Dubrovnik festival

The other visit I made to the old town was for the opening of the Dubrovnik Summer Festival, which brings jazz, theatre, music to about 70 venues all around the city every year (in 2010 the festival runs July 10 – August 25). I was lucky enough to be with someone who had tickets to the actual opening ceremony and performance.

We squeezed into the area in front of the gorgeous St Blaise’s Church and listened to the Zagreb Philharmonic Orchestra and German soprano Nadja Michael, watched a performance by the local folklore ensemble Lindjo, and then watched the raising of the Libertas festival flag while the choir of the Croatian National Theatre sang the local hymn of Dubrovnik. Totally fabulous – to hear such music in that historic place was amazing.

Then we all walked through the town – following closely the President of Croatia and his bodyguards – and up to the local museum where we stood on a roof terrace eating local seafood while being mesmerised by fireworks. The whole town had turned out to watch and there were people everywhere. Every corner you turned in the old city brought you to another square full of chair and tables, jazz bands, pop concerts, fashionistas in from their yachts to sip cocktails.

What to do when it rains? Go to the spa

The next morning I woke to hear booms outside my window and in my half sleep I thought I was still at the festival opening – but where was my cocktail dress? Luckily only a dream and a thunderstorm, mind you a pretty spectacular one, probably because the sound and fury bounces off the steep mountains that back the Croatian coast.

Anyway, the heavy grey clouds meant I couldn’t follow my usual day plan of breakfast, beach, swim, reading on a sun lounger, swim, lunch, lounging under an umbrella, swim, coffee – well, you get the idea. But what to do under a cloudy sky? Then the beacon lit up in the gloom: the spa.

Now my biggest decision was hot rocks massage or private bath. I went for the bath and felt like a total princess soaking in an aromatic oil and water filled tub in the middle of a white room with a window to a courtyard. The whole fantasy was only enhanced by the fact that the spa building is surrounded by a moat, with chairs and couches to lounge on, post-treatment, and stare at the sea and the islands. It’s a wonder they ever got me out of the place.

Realising that too much idle bliss can be too much of a good thing (can that be true, really?), one day I took myself off for a (long) day tour of Montenegro, south along the Adriatic. Exhausting but totally worthwhile. Montenegro is a country just finding itself after a century of upheaval. In the last hundred years, it’s gone from Kingdom – King Nikolas was exiled to France at the end of WWI – to part of communist Yugoslavia, to war-torn in the 1990s, to independent once more in 2006.

Now it feels a bit like a teenager - a little rebellious and wanting attention. With all that beauty, it’s going to get attention. Mountains, fjord, history, beaches – it’s got a lot to offer and tourists are discovering this in the thousands. Especially the well-heeled Russians. Budva, the main tourist resort town, felt a little like the St Tropez of the east. I was glad I went but I was mighty happy to get to my own little peaceful paradise on the other side of the border.

Back in Orasac, I fell into the sea, floating on the extra salt that makes the Adriatic so relaxing. I thought about my flight home. I looked at the islands some more. Thought about home. Half an hour later I had changed my flight to two days later. Really! That’s how addictive this place is. And surely life is about following your bliss, right?

-Philippa Burne

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s Dubrovnik tours and Croatia tours & sightseeing tours.

But a bustling metropolis it is not. It’s the kind of town you get to know in a day. And on the second day, you meet everyone who lives there. Everyone. So unless you intend to travel outside of Reykjavik and commune with nature, there’s not much point in being in the Icelandic capital for more than a long weekend. There are only so many times one can ambulate downtown’s main street, Laugavegur, before it starts getting really old. And nobody likes vinarbrauð (Iceland’s version of a Danish, filled with marzipan and icing instead of fruit) and coffee that much.

Pylsur - the national food of Iceland. Yes, it's a hot dog.

Nevertheless, Reykjavík’s viking-meets-water-nymph eccentricity is utterly charming and if you’re aware of her greatest hits before you get there, three or four days will fly by. Try not to expect too much from Reykjavik, and she will treat you to a fine long weekend indeed.

Reykjavik on foot

First up, you need to orient yourself as Reykjavik is a town that can easily be seen on foot. Use Hallgrímskirkja (the towering Lutheran church at the top of Skólavörðustígur) as a starting point. Venture up the tower for an impressive bird’s-eye view (400ISK for adults, 100ISK for children 7-14) then walk down Skólavörðustígur to sample some of the local arts and craft shops and cafes (Mokka and Babalú are great pit-stop points).

At the bottom of the hill, Laugavegur to the right and Bankastræti to the left provide a paradise of clothes boutiques and eateries worth exploring. The day doesn’t start in Iceland before coffee has been consumed. The locals take their java juice seriously (almost as seriously as their coffee breaks which are frequent and protracted). Hjólmalind, resident hippie café, makes a sensational soy chai latte. Tíu Dropar’s cakes and coffee are a welcome treat after navigating Laugavegur’s foot traffic and the grandma’s parlour atmosphere attracts hipsters and older locals alike.

My parents went to Iceland and all I got was this lousy…

For unique Icelandic shopping, pick up something made from Icelandic wool, pop into Naked Ape (the nu-rave outfitters of the north), Rokk og Rósir (flawless vintage), or Aftur, for an utterly Icelandic look.

From there, you can either head downhill towards City Hall and Tjörnin (The Pond) and its surrounding gardens, or steer yourself seawards for a stroll along the shore. The Sun Craft sculpture, separated from Mount Esja by a choppy bay, makes a wonderful photograph; the rusting shipping vessels propped up getting fresh coats of paint are endlessly fascinating.

The Sun Craft sculpture

From here, you can venture down to the Maritime Museum in the old harbour, dubbed the Fishpacking District due to the new artist and recording studios and offbeat boutiques springing up there (vintage refurbished bicycles at Kria, and unique clothing, accessories and giftware with a macabre twist at Vopnabúrið).

Reykjavik bars & clubs

Don’t assume that after a day of walking the only way of unwinding is in a hot tub. The nightlife is well worth rugging up for. Since the 2007 closure of legendary bar Sirkus (famed for its rafter-hanging, all-night, celebrity-packed antics) other favourites Boston, Kaffibarrinn and Karumba have stepped up to fill the void.

Friday and Saturday nights are wild affairs downtown… one good reason to choose a hotel slightly off the beaten track if partying isn’t your thing. Gutsy local English-language newspaper The Grapevine elucidates on the issues of the day as well as listing special events and gigs worth attending. If you are lucky enough to be in town when Sigur Rós, Múm, FM Belfast, Reykjavík!, or Gus Gus are on the bill, take my word for it and go along.

Please don’t stare at Björk

While on the subject of homegrown talent, given Reykjavik’s diminutive size, there’s a good chance that a night out will see you lining up for a Brennivín or a Víking beer alongside local or even international celebrities. If you feel the urge to whip out your camera and start snapping, please resist. Most bars operate a “no photography” policy so that the privacy of their patrons is respected.

Street art in Reykjavik

My first “Björk encounter” (everybody here’s had one) was puzzling. I assumed the woman everyone was studiously ignoring was an enthusiastic lookalike rather than the genuine article. Despite being clad head to toe in white lace, she wasn’t getting a single wayward glance. Upon mumbled inquiry, I discovered it was indeed the Swan Dress Lady in all her doilied glory.

That’s just the way Icelanders treat native talent. They treat them as they would a fishmonger. Or the Prime Minister. As equals. The experience was repeated when I found myself soaking in a hot tub opposite Magnús Scheving (AKA Sportacus from LazyTown… those of you with kids will know who I’m talking about). We swapped smiles, pleasantries, and then got back to soaking.

While we’re on the subject, Iceland’s water culture definitely rates a mention and no Icelandic adventure is complete without it. The options are numerous – local pool and spa complexes, tourist haven the Blue Lagoon, or some of the naturally occurring hot springs further afield. Check out my blog on Getting Soaked in Iceland for more information.

What to eat in Reykjavik? Fish of course. And hot dogs

There’s no escaping the fact that Reykjavík is a fishing town. Unsurprisingly, the seafood here is fresh, affordable and delicious. Visit Sægreifinn (The Sea Baron) on the dock where whale watching boats and whaling vessels moor, incongruously, side by side. It’s not the cheapest fish in town, particularly given that it’s served on Styrofoam plates, but their lobster soup is touted by gourmands of repute as the world’s best. (I can’t comment due to a shellfish allergy, but all the visitors I’ve taken there have raved.)

OSushi (upstairs at Iða bookstore on Lækjargata) offers sushi-train japery. If you’re feeling adventurous, let the fish roll by and instead hop on board with whale sashimi or (brace yourselves…) foal sushi.

The menu at local favourite þrir Frakkar incudes smoked puffin, whale, reindeer, plokkfiskur and many other traditional Icelandic dishes.

If, however, your budget leans more towards paper napkins than linen tablecloths, head straight for Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur across the road from the Kolaportið carpark to sample the Icelandic national food… hot dogs. Even hole in the wall vendors offer a good product but the pylsurs here set the standard. Bill Clinton ate here during his visit in 2004 (just mustard, hold the onions and ketchup). Shame. Those crunchy fried-onions and sweet relish are what make the Icelandic pylsur truly great.

Art & culture in Reykjavik

Open from 11am-5pm every Saturday and Sunday, Kolaportið Flea Market is another worthwhile destination. It is a genuine trash and treasure affair, particularly since last year’s financial crash when Icelanders realised they should be focussing on frugality rather than futures funds.

Just a few blocks away on Tryggvagata you will find Listasafn, Reykjavik’s Art Museum. Despite its grand semblance, it presents an easily absorb-able number of works – large scale paintings, photography and installations – making it viewable in under an hour. Entry is free; save your kronur for the upstairs café serving good coffee and a selection of soups and sandwiches, all coming with a complimentary side order of sea view.

If Iceland’s Viking past interests you, the National Museum of Iceland has a comprehensive collection of artefacts and historical information – presented in Icelandic and English.

Day trips from Reykjavik

There are a handful of good day trips from Reykjavik. The Golden Circle tour of south-eastern Iceland is imperative. Either hire a car or join one of the many Golden Circle tours on offer. The Golden Circle tour is an excellent way to sample Iceland’s natural beauty in a day: Þingvellir National Park, the site where the European and American tectonic plates meet, Gulfoss waterfall, and Geysir (which faithfully shoots a jet of steaming water skywards every four minutes).

Some of Reykjavik’s closer attractions - such as Perlan, the site of the city’s hot water storage and a fancy revolving restaurant; the geothermally heated beach Nautholsvik; and the hot tubs at Seltjanarnes - are all reachable by bus. Tickets, routes and timetable information can be found online or in person at the central bus stop Hlemmur.

-Maggie Rays

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s Iceland sightseeing & things to do in Iceland suggestions, including Iceland day tours and things to do in Reykjavik. Also check out Kelly’s previous blog about Iceland.

We could have gone for more, but here are five of the best Madrid day trip options in central Spain.

Madrid day trip: Córdoba

Inside the Mezquita, in Cordoba

High-speed rail has opened up amazing possibilities in Spain – especially for those who want to see a lot but have limited time. Seville is often cited as a major beneficiary – the high speed train journey takes two-and-a-half hours, meaning it’s possible to do a day trip there from Madrid (click here for Madrid Toledo tours on Viator.)

But don’t overlook Córdoba. It’s closer (around one hour and 45 minutes on the train), and there’s a reason that it often crops up on Best Destination lists when readers vote in travel magazine polls.

Córdoba is packed with history – it was once the seat of an all powerful Islamic caliphate, and was regarded as the most advanced, enlightened city in Europe.

In the 10th century it was arguably the biggest city in the world, with an estimated 500,000 inhabitants. Architecture spans the ages – from Roman times to when there was a thriving Jewish population. The Jewish quarter is hugely atmospheric, and it leads to what is undoubtedly Córdoba’s star attraction.

The Mezquita is a cathedral that was once a mosque – and it’s a must-see, even for people who hate touring around cathedrals. Inside is an eye-popping series of red and yellow archways. There are hundreds of them, and it has a mesmerising effect as you wander through. (Note Viator has a highly rated 4-day tour of Spain from Madrid that includes Cordoba.)

Madrid day trip: Segovia

Segovia is another city that has benefited from the high speed connection to Madrid – it’s now just over half an hour away from the Spanish capital. It’s a spectacularly located city, sitting above the parched, dusty plains, and it’s loveable from the moment you first set eyes on the aqueduct.

The Roman-built aqueduct is Segovia’s most iconic image, and an astounding feat of engineering. It’s made entirely without cement or concrete, and consists of a series of narrow, spindly archways towering over the rooftops.

Segovia, from the top of the Alcazar

The second major attraction is the Alcazar, which can be found at the other end. The tale goes that this was the building on which the castle for Disney’s Sleeping Beauty was based. It certainly has fairytale looks, and the views from the top of the tower are awesome.

But it’s just as impressive inside – the rooms are lavishly decorated, and the one that is ringed by busts of Spain’s kings and queens is particularly intriguing.

For foodies, however, the Alcazar and aqueduct will be of secondary importance. Segovia is renowned for its suckling pig and lamb. Vegetarians will not be too impressed, but the more carnivorously inclined should brace themselves for huge plates of some of the most tender meat they will ever encounter.
It’s a good job that it’s a fair walk from the aqueduct to the Alcazar – it’s possible to walk off some of that extra bulk on the way. (Note: Viator has a popular day trip from Madrid to Segovia and Avila.)

Madrid day trip: Alcalá de Henares

Part of Madrid’s surrounding area (or Comunidad), Alcalá is essentially a suburb of the Spanish capital. It’s an instantly likeable place of cobbled, winding streets and large public squares. In terms of architecture, its grand cathedral and university buildings are enough to draw in the punters who aren’t there for literary reasons.

Segovia's famous aqueduct

For the book lovers, however, the major reason to visit Alcalá de Henares is that it is the birthplace of Miguel de Cervantes. The famous Spanish author is often regarded as the second greatest of all time after William Shakespeare, and his classic Don Quixote is regularly cited as the best book ever written.
Those wanting to find out more about Alcalá’s most famous son can visit the Cervantes birthplace museum but a better bet is to turn up in April.

Cervantes died on April 23rd, 1616 - coincidentally the same date Shakespeare died - and this has been declared UNESCO World Book Day. In Alcala, it becomes a major event, coinciding with the awarding of the Cervantes Prize. This is given out by the King of Spain to the author of the best book in the Spanish language from the preceding year. It’s all highly prestigious, and the satellite town takes on a whole different air.

Madrid day trip: El Escorial

Approximately 45km to the north-west of central Madrid, El Escorial is arguably Spain’s most impressive royal site. It’s in the Sierra de Guadarrama, the mountain range that forms the natural boundary for the community of Madrid. The range is excellent for walking in (and even skiing in winter) but El Escorial is the high point for most.

It’s split into two parts – a huge monastery and a royal hunting lodge – although it’s the monastery that most associate with the name. Inside are some fabulous artworks, including the Hall of Battles where frescos commemorate memorable Spanish military victories.

Statue at El Escorial monastery

The most important part, however, is the Pantheon of the Kings. This is where all Spanish kings and queens are buried, and it looks suitably grand. The marble walls are adorned with gold-plated bronze. The monks – an Augustinian order – still live at El Escorial and help to maintain it. (Check Viator’s tours from Madrid to El Escorial for more day trip options.)

Madrid day trip: Toledo

Madrid may be the current Spanish capital, but Toledo used to be. And for heritage junkies, Toledo makes a perfect day trip from Madrid. It has strong Jewish, Muslim and Christian heritage, with the synagogues, mosques and churches being amongst the more obvious sights. The cathedral, in particular, is a highlight. It’s an enormous Gothic structure, and lavishly decorated inside.

The Alcazar (or fortress) is the other big set piece. It has been, in turn, a royal palace and an infantry training academy. It’s now home to the army museum.

For art fans, the place to go to is the Museo El Greco. Although born in Crete, El Greco is widely considered to be the finest Spanish artist of all time, and the museum plays host to much of his work.
The most endearing thing about Toledo (providing you don’t arrive on a day when it’s crammed with tourists), however, is simply ambling along the narrow, winding streets. The city is a little maze-like, but tremendously atmospheric.

-David Whitley

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s Madrid tours & things to do in Madrid and Madrid day trips.

It was a dark and blustery day in this dirty old town. Time was ripe to do something dangerous, weird and sinister. Well, perhaps I would just go and listen to something like that. I love all the crazy stories of London – if you have read Dickens you will know it have always been a throbbing hub of criminality and destitution. It still often feels that way as many of the buildings are remnants of times gone by, good and bad.

London’s full of nutters

So looking to satisfy my craving, I was able to get onto a tour which both intrigued and scared me… ye olde Jack the Ripper tour of London. I was a bit early for it, so I went and hung out at Trafalgar Square, which was super entertaining, and the entertainment was free! I tried taking photos of people taking photos of people on big black lions; also I tried to photograph a fella on a plinth dressed as a Raj and throwing about a vampire on a fishing pole.

Jack the Ripper tour of London? Don't be scared.

This last statement may require explanation. And if it does not, you might want to consult a doctor. But the Raj man…This is all part of the fourth plinth project of Trafalgar Square – which has been empty for some time, and normally has on it commissioned projects. Well, the one at the moment is Antony Gormley’s “One and Other”, which allows people two hours to do whatever they like on the plinth. Some are very odd, and some are beautiful and interesting and some…well, downright bizarro. (Sadly the project ended October 14, so you just missed it!)

Jack the Ripper, it’s a mindset thing

Now I know some people who are well into this kind of thing – serial killers and the like. Well not really me – I have already worked in Mental Health, and some of my friends are a bit mad, so I don’t feel the need to get to know insanity any further.

However, there are those among us who love this kind of stuff; love getting into the mindset, or just the mystery of these kinds of events and people. And our host for the evening was evidently one such type. Full of vim, vigour and a good Scottish accent to heighten the senses, our guide John started off fairly quietly and ended with a good bang. We took a bus to the area where all of the attacks occurred, and started on our macabre journey. Starting at the (other) St Paul’s church, John described how it would have been then, and set the scene for our grim tour.

We trolled down these alleyways and backstreets, I would assume to avoid the crowds. The area where the Ripper was doing his bloody business is now a pumping hobo chic area that has lots of students, designers, hipsters (and, on Sundays, the Spitlefields Markets). But prior to this, the area was a run-down dingy place where everyone worked pretty hard for their coin, and a lot of people were still struggling to make ends meet.

Dim, dark, foggy, shivery

We began in Puma Lane, which is fairly narrow and haunting even during the day time. I enjoyed John’s descriptions, and his encouragement to imagine how it was back then. Now, I have read some reviews of this tour, and some people have been a bit persnickety about the ‘imagine’ parts of it.

The Ten Bells pub, one of Jack's former haunts

Really, I just feel sorry that those people who obviously don’t have enough imagination. I was really drawn into the moment…for these streets really would be ominous. There was no electric bulbs at that time, and in some places not even the gas lamps. So when you put together the old brick buildings and the idea of dim, dark and foggy streets…oooh, shivery!

Now as you go through the streets and get your tour, some passersby do throw in comments and try to have a listen in. I know, because I sometimes do it, too. (Don’t hate me.) This just makes you concentrate more on what is being said. It can be quite intense this tour, because it was a grisly rampage the fellow went on; at one point after a description a girl had to have a wee sit down. So that is why the host asked for doctors and nurses in the audience. I must say, the Ripper did quite a nasty job on all of his victims, and it could be a little churning for those on the sensitive side.

But overall, it is not the physical act which is focussed on, but the psychology of the attacker. Of the cunning and skills he had to possess, and the mystery as to why he was never caught. The Ripper dubbed himself in a letter, and carried on his way for quite some time in these dank streets of east London.

Eating & drinking in the Ripper’s footsteps

Thankfully, there is a break in the middle of the tour, where you can grab a drink or a bite to eat. Now, if you are cluey, you can go down to the pub The Ten Bells, which is really a central part of the Ripper story. Inside, is quite cozy and well heeled, and does not retain what I would think the really hardcore working-class-pub feel of what it once was. But that is kind of this whole area. But take a beer during the break at this pub, and you will get to have the full experience, if you can imagine how it would have been over a century ago. Grime on the walls, everything pretty smelly, and beer in tankards with wenches a-plenty.

So we were on the last leg of the tour, the final victim and her story, which funnily enough started at the Ten Bells. We visited where her house would have been and heard the story, which was admittedly quite gory. And the best thing I liked about this part was one of the audience members who was eating ice cream while listening to the wicked and bloody tale. I commented, and she replied ‘oh I don’t mind, I’m a nurse’. Now I understand my sister a lot more (she is also a nurse).

So after the final story, we piled back in the bus, and John went through the theories of the time as to who the killer was, for he was never caught. I liked the one about the bonny Prince someone or other. We disembarked from the bus, assured by host and driver that the streets of London really are very safe and to have a lovely night. In fact a bloody marvellous night (pun intended).

-Tina Grace

Planning a tour? Browse Viator’s things to do in London, including London walking & biking tours such as the Jack the Ripper tour of London.