Week 11

So I’m on the plane on the way home. Which feels very strange. It’s exciting. It’s sad. It’s a little scary.

I’ve felt quite peculiar this last week in Madrid. A little unsure with what to do with myself. Ready to go home, but not wanting to leave.

I booked myself onto a ‘tourist tour’ for Wednesday. A guided coach trip to Toledo, Escorial & Valley of the Fallen. But when I arrived in the morning, they said that as I was the only person who’d booked onto that combination, I had to do a different one. VERY annoying!

So I did the full day at Toledo. It was good. It’s a beautiful medieval & gothic city and nice to have a guide to walk you around the city and tell stories about the history. The cathedral was wonderful. And the El Grecos were amazing. Especially The Burial of the Count of Orgaz And the cloisters at the Monasterio de San Juan de la Reyes were beautiful. I’m really glad to have gone.

The rest of the group were funny. A couple of Italians but mostly Americans and an Australian family. My favourite quote of the day was:

“That’s the problem when you come to Europe, there’s so much art everywhere”.

Very astute… perhaps that IS our problem. Too much bloody art.

A nice American called Patrick who’s a chemistry professor at Philidelphia University (over here to do a lecture) latched onto me and we spent the day together and talked quite a lot about the connections between art and science, and about travel and American politics. But some of the other Americans were far too full on for me. They just loved to talk and talk and talk! Telling you stuff about themselves that’s bizarrely personal and without being asked anything (“let me tell you a story… I might cry when I tell it - I usually do, but don’t worry it’s just the menopause” !!?!). We went for this awful tourist lunch included in the tour (chicken and chips and ice-cream with tinned fruit! And musicians dressed in C17th outfits singing Mexican-style Spanish songs – it was actually quite funny it was so bad!). I found I really couldn’t be bothered with the very dull americans’ conversations, and so was really quite rude and just phased them out… I just looked out of the window and wandered off on my own whenever possible. Was kind of fun not giving a shit what they thought of me as I realised I’ll never (please god!) see you again!

I was very sorry not to have seen the Valley of the Fallen though and really regret not having made time to do it before.

The rest of the time I’ve spent wandering around. I FINALLY managed to get to the Prado (hurrah!!) and went to see the new extension that’s just opened and is showing a wonderful collection of Goya drawings (the show is called El Toro Mariposa – The Butterfly Bull), and the new collection of C19th Spanish paintings – a bit sentimental for me but quite fun – especially the giant dramatic history paintings full of castles and kings and troubled virgins).

I also went to see the Marin photography show at the Telefonica Tower. They’re 1901 to 1940 (he was a madrileno photo-journalist) and a brilliant collection. From early flying and motorbike races, to the Spanish aristocracy in the 1910s, to political rallies and then the civil war. Some amazing photos from the 1930s of the main plazas in Madrid covered in huge pictures of Lenin and the hammer and sickle to show support for the Russian Revolution (when the Republic were in power) to the shelling and bombings of streets you can still recognise today in the civil war (and snipers holding out in the area where the university now is). And some brilliant photos of Franco’s troops finally entering Madrid and everyone doing the fascist salute.

Having seen it I kept noticing references to Franco on buildings and plaques around the city. The new law I think means that these will have to be taken down (or covered over) so I don’t know how long they will be around for. The one at Moncloa for example (above the huge entrance to the airforce headquarters) says: “Francisco Franco, Caudillo de Espana, MCMLIV”.

I’ve felt very unsociable this week. Tired and really just wanting to hide under my duvet. I think it’s because I know I’m leaving. I’ve worked hard to make some connections with people here, but it has been hard work. And although I’ve made some tentative friendships I guess I know that in reality they probably finish here, and that’s both sad and a relief. Sad because for me places are very much associated with people, but a relief because it IS hard work being with people you don’t know well. It takes a lot of effort. Sally is perhaps the exception – someone that I hope I will stay in touch with.

I had a nice last Spanish lesson with Feli. She invited me to a concert (Alvaro’s band – Health Control). But I didn’t get back from Toledo until late, and just didn’t feel like going. No need to, but I guess I do also feel a little disappointed in myself for not going (I feel that I should have really). It feels like it would have been another memory to ‘bank’. But that thought depresses me. In a way it all feels a little meaningless – just going through life trying to ‘bank’ memories. This feeling has haunted me this week. What is it all for? Why come and do things like living in Madrid? What’s it for? To be able to tell your children in years to come that you ‘did’ it? To collect up memories and experiences? I’ve clearly been a bit depressed as I can’t help thinking that it’s all quite meaningless. That you try your best to fill your days with doing stuff and then you die! It all feels a bit pointless. I know that travel is supposed to broaden your mind (and I’m sure it does!) but what is one meant to do with a broad mind? Think more? Think bigger? Am still not sure what the point of that is!

I think to be honest I feel a bit lost and a bit anxious about coming back. I’m not sure really what I’ve ‘achieved’ by being here (other than having survived it and had some fun times!) and I’m nervous about what people will expect from me. Should my drawing be really good? Should I be able to speak fluent Spanish? Should I have some incredible ideas for amazing art I should be gagging to do when I get back to Camberwell? Should I be full of entertaining stories of my exploits?

I guess I’ve really enjoyed being in a bit of a bubble here. I’ve liked being ‘different’ and even though it’s been hard, there’s something really quite pleasant about not being understood and not understanding what’s being said. It allows you to stand apart and just watch. It lets you be quite passive and see what happens rather than taking control of situations. To my surprise there is a part of me that really enjoys that (as well as the part of me that I’m familiar with that finds it impossible!). And I’m not sure how the new parts of me that I’ve discovered will work back in London.

Last night was a funny farewell. I sent an email and some texts to invite people out for a drink to say goodbye, but disappointingly a lot of the people who I thought would come (Jolie, Antony, Max, Nathan, Nicole) didn’t even respond. I was surprised and a bit annoyed as I’ve made a lot of effort with them. But maybe it’s hard for them having us here for only a short amount of time. Perhaps saying goodbye is too uncomfortable. Sarah, Matt & Feli were all having to work late so couldn’t come but I had a nice gentle evening in the Pepe Botello (in plaza dos mayo) with Antonio, Johannes and Sally (who came for a quick drink in between her MBA studying!).

Perhaps it was a fitting end. Johannes and I stayed out talking a lot about the experience of being in a strange new city (he has found it very hard and had decided to go back to Sweden, but has now changed his mind and is staying for the year). It was a nice reflective conversation.

Antonio was great and gave me some of his stickers (prints of his drawings) which he sticks in public places (a form of grafitti). He’s asked me to sticker them in London and take photos for him of them in-situ. I’m excited about it. I think maybe it’s a nice way to re-engage with London and make connections between the two cities. Antonio’s drawings are all graphic style visuals of everyday Madrid life (on the tube, in the supermercado, in bars etc) and I think it’ll be fun to find appropriate sites for them in similar places in London. A nice mini-project.

I had my final café con leche at Café Commercial this morning. Fernando was so lovely. Very warm and sad to see me go. He gave me a huge hug when I said goodbye. I bought him a guide book to Londres as he’s coming with his family in the spring and he promised to call me when they come over. He is a wonderful man. The café has been in his family for 4 generations (over 100 years) and he trained as a lawyer before realising that he needed to run the family business (to keep it in the family). He wants to be the last generation (doesn’t want the life of a café owner for his daughter – too much work he says. The place is open 20 hours a day!!!). He wouldn’t let me pay today and said how sad he was that I was leaving. I think that making friends with him and being known there (and teased!) has been one of the real highlights of my trip. I’m proud of myself for having decided it would be ‘my place’ and making it happen for me.

Despite my reservations I am excited about being back in London. About seeing my friends and Rups, about being back in my flat, about having all the things that I’ve missed so much while I was away (art, music, theatre, interesting food!).

There’s lots I’ll miss about Madrid and some things I won’t (!) and despite my depressed thoughts about pointlessness, since you DO have to fill your days before you die, it’s been a pretty amazing way to spend 3 months, and I am SO very very glad that I’ve done it.

Things I’ll miss about Madrid:

• Breakfast at Café Commercial & Fernando
• Sunshine and blue skies everyday
• Café con leche
• Watching the news on TeleMadrid (full of disasters – fires, car crashes, floods, hospitals – you don’t need to know Spanish to understand!)
• Walking around the city every day
• Donuts & churros
• The clean empty metro
• Vino Tinto & canas
• Sitting outside the cafeteria in the sun for lunch at college
• The pride that people have in their jobs (waiters, street cleaners etc)
• Spanish lessons at Feli’s flat
• Anatomia (Pedro going “asi, asi, asi” as he draws)
• Being in a bubble!
• Sally, Matt, Antony, Feli
• Acietunas
• Being different
• Walking in the middle of the little streets because there’s no cars
• Going out late (took a while to get used to but I love it).
• Doing my blog
• Spontaneous social life
• Buskers on the metro (the drummers at Tribunal & the saxophonist at Plaza Espana)
• Churches everywhere
• Flags everywhere
• People wandering around the streets in the evenings.
• Shopping 6-9pm.
• Food markets (like La Paz in Serrano)
• Tarta de manzana
• Zumo de naranja
• Pimientos de guernica
• The balconies & shutters in my flat
• Having time and space to yourself
• A real mixture of ages of people in bars
• Knowing how far I am from home by the red Telefonica tower clock.
• Being so self-sufficient
• People being so kind and generous with their time.
• Mi companeros espanol en las classes
• Lots of hanging around (having lots of breaks)
• Sense of history and tradition
• Plazas (sense of space they give to a city)
• Tiendas de Articulos Religiosa
• Palmaritas
• Diez viajes targetas por el metro
• The worn wooden stairs and iron banisters up to my flat
• Marble table tops
• Old ladies in fur coats with sunglasses and small dogs.
• Emma laughing at me

Things I won’t miss so much

• Everyone smoking (and smoking everywhere!) so your clothes and hair always smell of it.
• Jamon (no more please!!!)
• Dog poo
• Jolie grumpy in pintura mural
• Having to work so hard with people you don’t know
• Mangey cats all around the university
• Having your personality limited by the extent of your vocabulary
• Being told I’m “wrong” all the time.
• Going to the airport (all the time!!)
• Spending € like they’re going out of fashion
• Not knowing where anything cool is happening!
• Mobile phone bill (October’s bill was £595!! Haven’t seen the others yet)
• Long distance relationship
• The faff of paying for stuff (asking for what you want from the counter and being given a ticket to take to the cash desk! Or having to show ID, AND put in pin and then sign.
• Everything shutting 2-5pm.
• Being so tired.
• Not being understood.
• Trying to manage Jordans long distance.
• Waiting for the 46 bus at Moncloa.
• People acting as statues outside the Palacio Real.
• Beggars prostrating themselves outside churches (‘praying’ to you to help them).
• Having to put so much effort into the simplest things!
• Being the one to organise stuff.
• The crazy concierge lady at my apartment.

Weeks 9 & 10

Unfortunately week’s nine and ten have had to be conflated because I came down with such terrible flu at the beginning of this week that I couldn’t write a syllable. Looking back over two weeks is quite hard (it’s amazing how quickly you forget things!) but then quite a lot has been going on.

I’m really enjoying my Spanish lessons with Feli. She’s really cool and funny. Last week we were doing ‘Me gusta’ (“I like…”) including “me gusta muchiiiiiiiiiiiiiisimo” and “me no gusta nada”. She had found us a very cool Manu Chao video on You Tube of his “me gusta tu” song for us to translate as practice. For homework we had to write about things we like and don’t like. It’s so bizarre to have such a limited vocabulary and yet still try to say something interesting! You inevitably sound like a 7 year old writing about their school holidays:

“Me Gusta…” by Jess Blandford aged 34 and three quarters.

A mi me gusta muchos cosas. Me gusta mucho el campo pero prefiero viivir en la ciudad por que me gusta muchisimo el cine, las galerias, el teatro y salir por las noches con mis amigos.

Me gusta la comida. Me gusta mucho los mercados y los restaurantes pero no me gusta cocinar. Pero tengo suerta, a mi novio le gusta muchisimo cocinar (y el lo hace muy bien!)

A mi me gusta leer. Me gusta mucho las novellas y prefiero las novellas modernas (pero me gusta mucho la literatura del siglo XIX tambien). No me gusta nada la literatura de siencia ficcion. Ahora estoy leyendo un libro llamado ‘La Renuente Fundamentalista’. Esta muy muy bien, y tengo solo viente paginas hasta el final.

Tambien con Julie Andrews en ‘El Sonido de Musica’ me gusta el gatito con bigotes, las copos de nieve, y los paquetes de papel marrones envueltos con cuerda. Estos es unos de mi cosas favoritas.”

I got so into it (sat in the corner of café commercial) making myself laugh out loud translating with my dictionary ‘kittens with whiskers’ and ‘brown paper packages tied up with string’ as I thought it would make my teacher chuckle, only to have her correct my grammar and look at me very strangely as if I was some kind of fetishist. She was completely baffled at my rendition of ‘these are a few of my favourite things’ (Emma just held her head in her hands with embarrassment at how uncool I am!). Apparently the Sound of Music has yet to reach Spain and my enthusiasm for it as “a brilliant film – it’s all about these Nuns and Nazis in the Swiss mountains” didn’t seem to convince Feli. However having searched high and low I have found a copy of it on DVD and will do my bit for anglo-iberian understanding by giving it to her as a goodbye Christmas present.

Emma and I had a long chat with Mariano de Blas which was fun. He’s a bit crazy. He never asks really how we are or what we’ve been up to, but just talks and talks. But he was really interesting about the civil war and the Franco regime here and the role of Britain in Spain’s decision to stay out of the war rather than join Hitler. He talked about finishing school in the late 1970s (Franco only died in 1975) and travelling to Europe and America in the 1980s and being overwhelmed by the differences to Spain and the openness of other countries. It is amazing to think that really only 30 years ago there was a fascist dictator running this country right in the heart of Western Europe, and just how controlled things were. Of course no-one in the older generation speaks English because it wasn’t taught at all (Franco was obsessed about making Spain self-sufficient and not being ‘polluted’ by outside influences).

I’ve just finished reading ‘Winter in Madrid’ which is set here in the second world war (but is very much about the impact of the civil war and the early years of Franco’s regime). It really brings to life the sense of fear, the immense losses (on both sides), the terrible poverty and lack of basic things (like food!) that people suffered, and more than anything the brutality and absolutism of the control that was imposed. Control, both in terms of the military dictatorship and the strongly imposed ‘National Catholicism’ of the church.

It is interesting to observe the ambivalent attitude to control here. How highly controlled some things are, like our art classes; lunchtime on the dot of 2pm; the way people always correct you if you say something incorrectly (“it’s important that you get it right”); the conformity of people’s clothes; the predictability of the food etc. In many ways the culture is very unadventurous.

And yet there are also lots of examples of how important the concept of liberty is to the culture: never being able to make plans in advance (“how can I know what I want to do next Wednesday?”); the graffiti on the streets; the passionate demonstrations against having CCTV; the big gay community; the fact that prostitution is legal (I saw an article describing Madrid as “the brothel of Europe” – there are apparently more prostitutes here than in any other city in Europe – despite (or maybe because?!) Catholicism is so strong).

It feels to an outsider like a confusing set of contradictions, but talking to Mariano and reading this book, it did make me think differently about the legacy of having lived under a dictator for 40 years. Of course in that culture a sense of control (and the black and white concepts of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’) is going to be something that is deeply ingrained in your national psyche. And yet equally concepts of liberty and freedoms will be passionately defended because they aren’t yet taken for granted in the way that we automatically assume. It creates a really interesting tension and movement between the two. Plus having had such a recent and bloody civil war where it wasn’t possible to stay neutral, you had to be on one side or another. Red or Fascist. Both were so extreme and such terrible atrocities were done by each. It must be very traumatic, and it’s hard to imagine killing your own countrymen for the future of your nation. Our civil war was so long ago. It’s no wonder such strong notions of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ remain in Spain.


Last week was finally the end of the cereals project I’ve been working on while out here. Much cause for celebration (and relief I have to confess – it’s been hard switching between the two worlds). The new packaging was loved and Chris and I are very pleased to have all our hard work result in something so satisfyingly tangible and real. Can’t wait to see it on shelves across the UK next year!

I did have a bit of a full on marketing day last week. Firstly finishing off the project, and then Kate asked me to lunch to talk about Special K for a project she’s working on, and then that night Sally asked me to meet up with her in a bar to give her a hand on her marketing assignment for her MBA (Swatch case study!). There really is no escape from the world of consumerism!!

Talking of consumerism I went for a lovely dinner at Matt & Katy’s new flat. Ha!! Ha!! I’ve never seen anything like it!! It is amazing. It’s the top floor of this gorgeous building with a giant onion dome overlooking the park, It is stunning! The entrance hall is a riot of coloured tiles, the art deco lift is wonderful and the flat itself is enormous with balconies from every room. It has two separate roof terraces, gorgeous old glass in the windows and radiators cast with 1920s flower patterns on them. But of course with an immaculately modern kitchen, several bathrooms, and all the furniture uber-chic and white. I was so excited by the time I got to the flat that all attempts at coolness disappeared and I just jumped around insisting on a full and instant guided tour. They got the appartment by out-bidding an Italian model. Very funny. I think they were amused by my excitement at their good fortune! We had a really nice chatty evening.

Emma and I bunked classes one afternoon to do a gallery tour. It was nice wandering and discovering more of the commercial galleries here, but we didn’t see much exciting work. It does all feel very traditional. Mostly painting and photography. Some nice things but it did all feel like the kind of thing that I’ve seen before. Nothing that felt very exciting or surprising.

The most surprising thing I’ve done in the last couple of weeks was going to La Solea. I persuaded Emma and Jolie to come with me (and then took Matt, Sarah & Rups there again). It’s a small place in La Latina where the ‘afficionados de flamenco’ are supposed to hang out. I read about it in a book where it said “’visitors’ are welcome but you may find it a bit intimidating… after a few drinks though you’ll be fine”. I’m glad I had read that otherwise I think I may have abandoned the plan at the door. You walk in past the bar and into a smallish room covered in patterned tiles with a bench all around the wall and tables and some stools. In one corner were two guys playing guitar. We ordered drinks and were taken to a table right next to the musicians. It was intimidating. There’s a really hushed atmosphere there – you are here to listen to the music, and we felt very self-conscious at first being the only non-spanish (and pretty much the only women in the place) and not really knowing what to expect. The guys playing guitars were amazingly talented (the speed of their fingers was incredible) and the group around them were doing complicated clapping rhythms. Then a variety of men took it in turns to sing. Flamenco song is such an odd sound. It’s kind of Moorish with a haunting wailing nature to it, but then sung with such strength that at times it’s almost like shouting.

The place got fuller and fuller and smokier and smokier and the people around us got chattier and chattier. The musicians were really friendly so when ‘Pisaca’ (“muy famosa cantanta”) arrived we were introduced and he kissed each of our hands and said he was “ un veridad Madrid gypsie” with a wink and a cheeky smile. He had a drum box that he sat on and drummed with his hands on it. I chatted (in Spanish!) to one of the musicians’ girlfriend (she works on the perfume counter at El Corte Ingles) who was laughing about the fact the place is always full of old men. And it certainly was. All wanting to take their turn singing. It was like karaoke really I suppose. We stayed until about 3am and then squeezed ourselves out of the packed room.

Anna came for her birthday weekend, which was really lovely. Great to see her and chat lots and laugh lots. I still can’t believe she’s actually climbed Everest (well to base camp) – she was full of lots of good stories about it. We had a really nice disorganised weekend – bit of shopping, lots of walking, eating and drinking. We found a funny bar on Calle Libertad where a couple of musicians were playing. One with a very bizarre beard and some unfortunate facial expressions which kept us giggling. Anna introduced me to churros con chocolate and Tinto de Verano (she having worked in Seville for a summer) both of which are excellent additions to the repertoire! We did try to go to the Prado but the queue was about 500 people. I still haven’t managed to go in 3 months (shameful!!).

But on Monday morning – having stuck Anna in a taxi at 5.30am (!) to get to work by 9.30am, I started feeling really poorly. I was really quite ill for 2 days with a temperature of 103 and not really able to do anything other than sleep. I was completely floored by it. It was really quite scary being on your own and being so out of it. Mum kept phoning to check on me, and on the Wednesday, when the fever had subsided a bit, I called in Emma to prevent me from going doollally from isolation, and she brought me soup and fruit and we watched a rubbish DVD together (Dream Girls – it was pants!). It was really sad to feel that I sort of missed out on a week of my time here by being so poorly. I had so many plans of the things I wanted to do before I leave and I don’t now have time to do them all. But I guess that my body needed me to stop.

Fortunately I was feeling much better when Matt & Sarah arrived for the weekend, and then the following morning Rups too (haven’t seen him for a month!). We had a big goodbye lunch with Emma as she headed back to the UK. I am so glad that we came together and really don’t think I wouldn’t have coped so well here if she hadn’t been here too as my little buddy to share frustrations and laugh at the idiotic things we’ve seen or done.

Friday night we went to a restaurant called ‘Lay Down Rest Club’ where you take your shoes off and lounge around on these giant beds (it’s a kind of roman decadent feel) while you eat your dinner (it’s like the Bed Supper Club in Bangkok). Everything was white but with different coloured lights that change through the evening. They had these very bizarre singers who kept coming out and doing cheesy euro-trash pop songs over a backing track. With every song their outfits got more extraordinary. My favourite was the backless all in one leotard with high heels and a large piece of gauze on their fronts attached at their wrists and ankles. They were clearly home-made, very odd, and somewhat hampered their performance (which I’m sure had been practiced with hairbrushes in front of their bedroom mirror). It had an excellent wanna-be Eurovision feel to it. Classy!

While Rups stayed at home studying hard for his GMAT, Matt & Sarah kindly came with me on the cablecar from Arguelles out to the Casa de Campo. It was also comedy bad! It takes you out over the dual carriage-way, over several 1960s housing estates and up over the rather scrappy Casa de Campo. There’s not really even a good view of the city!! When you get up to the top, there is literally nothing there. Just a sad looking picnic area and then a panoramic viewing spot. It was brilliant. It has a series of photos of ‘the view’ with arrows pointing out the landmarks. The brilliant thing was though that the view you were supposed to be looking at was in most cases impossible to see because there were either trees and bushes in the way, or in one wonderful case they had built a concrete shed right in front of the view. So presumably you just looked at the pictures in order to know what the view would be like the other side of this monstrosity!

I was most delighted by the crap-ness of this attraction. For some reason I think there’s something really heart-warming about rubbish tourist things (like the lawn mower museum just outside York!). I love the pride in something so random, and the celebration of such ordinariness really tickles me. Matt and Sarah were very game and let me take some really dull photos before we headed back.

Last night Rups and I went to the ‘Futbol’ we went to watch Atletico win 1-0 against Getafe) in the Primera Division de La Liga. It was fab. Atletico de Madrid (set up in 1903 as an offshoot of Atletico Bilboa) is the shabbier less successful Madrid club (think Manchester City versus Man United). ‘Atleti’ play downtown in Piramides at El Stadio de Calderon de Vincente and have the reputation (as I’m sure always accompanies the less rich club!) of being the team associated with working class Madrid and with more passionate supporters. Not having been to see Real I can’t compare but there was certainly an abundance of passion last night. Although it was a mini-derby as both teams are from Madrid, there were really only ‘los indios’ fans there (Atletico is known as ‘the indians’ – apparently for fighting the ‘los blancos’ which is Real’s colours!). The chanting, singing, drumming, whistling and of course shouting created a brilliant atmosphere and I wore my newly purchased Atletico hat with pride!

The game was hallarious, non-stop giving of cards by the referee. FOUR players were sent off (including the Getafe goalie!!) so by the end of the game they were playing 9 men each. It felt like we were going to end up watching a 5-a-side match! And of course, every time a Getafe player fouled everyone was on their feet full of outrage for the misdemeanour, and every time an Atletico player was shown a card, everyone was on their feet shouting at the injustice of the decision. It was great fun! One of the great things was the variety of people there. Los Colchoneros fans (‘the mattress makers’ so nicknamed because apparently the first red and white kit’s were made from the offcuts from mattress material because they were cheap!) were a real mixture of old and young, men and women, and lots of kids. And the place was full – not what you’d get at 7pm on a Sunday night in England.

I’d love to talk you through the details of the game (!?!) but you may not be surprised that I’ve decided to pass that honour over to Mr Macdonald from goal.com. I just feel that he perhaps has a finer grasp of the detail than I could offer. Take it away Ewan…

“In a wildly eventful game at the Vicente Calderon, Atletico Madrid ran out 1-0 winners over near-neighbours Getafe...the scoreline tells only a tiny percentage of the story.

Indeed, this derby of sorts erupted into fireworks more vivid than anyone could have imagined: near misses, goalline clearances, outfield players in goal, seven minutes of stoppage time and, above all, cards of both colours.

And lots of them, too. Including the six that resulted in second bookings, fourteen yellow cards were produced, resulting in three sendings-off. There was even a direct red for good measure.

Amidst it all, Atletico scored the only goal of the game.

The hosts started brightly both at the front and the back; Forlan and Aguero were linking up well at one end, while Raul Garcia reacted quickly to snuff out what could have been a killer cross from Manu to Granero.

It may be a distant second or even third in the list of Madrid area derbies, but there was certainly no shortage of passion and excitement in these early stages and, sure enough, a goal wasn't long in coming.

Two minutes after the ominous first booking for Licht, Simao charged down the left wing before sliding a near post cross for Forlan to nip ahead of his marker and finish.

But then came the onslaught from the visitors. Albin spurned an absolute tremendous chance as Pablo was played onside to spray the ball across goalmouth. With the Italian 'keeper nowhere, the young forward inexplicably fired wide.

Signs of nerves appeared in the Atleti back line, not least among Antonio Lopez, but at the other end Pernia almost doubled Atleti's advantage with a shot off the post.

The midfield battle was no less intense; Maniche picked up a booking for a reckless, above-knee-height tackle on Cata Diaz before the incensed defender earned a yellow card of his own for a foul on Aguero.

The indomitable Maxi tested Pato once more before the half ended, but the first period closed with Geta clearly in the ascendancy as Manu was played through to test the nervous-looking Abbiati.

On came Belenguer for Mario as the second half began with the similar, frenetic pace of the first.

The best chance of the game came almost immediately, Granero stinging Abbiati's fingertips with a high drive. The Italian 'keeper could only parry it as far as his own goal-line before having to race back to scoop first that ball, and then a header from Albin off the line.

Seconds later, Kun Aguero embarked on a rather ambitious dive that earned him not a penalty but a yellow card as Pato Abbondanzieri failed to make the required contact

And as Getafe's dominance continued, they seemed to be en route for a comeback as Kun then picked up a red card, this time for a needless handball in the box.

But before they could even take advantage of their numerical superiority, it was ten aside: Licht picked up his second booking for a challenge on Maxi almost identical to his first.

After six minutes of end-to-end punts, Pato Abbondanzieri - still on an adrenaline high from the Kun Aguero diving incident - then picked up a red card.

He'd already been booked for some combination of a dive and an altercation with the Atletico Madrid technical staff, who had taken up position by the touchline, before a deliberate handball sealed the deal.

Romanian defender Cosmin Contra took up position between the posts, the ill-fitting goalkeeper's jersey betraying the challenges to come.

Jose Antonio Reyes, not long on as a substitute, then picked up the first direct red card of the match for a reckless challenge of his own.

Inevitably, Atleti had the next chance, but Contra was able to get down low to halt Forlan's effort at the near post.

Still, Getafe were on the quest for the goal that they surely deserved, only for Abbiati to come good at last with a tremendous stop from Kepa Blanco's drive.

After such an eventful half, no fewer than seven minutes of stoppage time would do - Maxi, Kepa and Manu picking up yellow cards during the closing stages for good measure - but the match ended as Granero drove his free kick over the bar”.

Ewan Macdonald, Goal.com