El Rastro

Our first morning in Madrid was a sunny and crisp Sunday morning and we headed for the sprawling “El Rastro” flea market. Held in the same streets of Madrid for over 500 years, it is a mass of vendors and buyers trading everything from rusty old skeleton keys and doorknobs to used leather coats, religious icons and brand new shoes. Just when you think it has to end, you turn another corner and the market pours down yet another side street. All of Madrid was there, slowly moving en mass through the streets.

Our moment of El Rastro glory came when we spotted a stall selling used clothes and children’s costumes which is where we saw “The Dress”. The dress of Bronwyn’s dreams; a full-on, mega-ruffled, polka-dotted flamenco dress, size: Bronwyn. The only problem was, a sharp-eyed, market-savvy Spanish woman swooped in just as my hand reached for the dress and she snatched it up. We waited while she rummaged further, holding up The Dress from time to time to measure it in the air against an absent niece or grand-daughter. Finally, unable to commit, she shook her head and dropped The Dress back down on the table, where we grabbed it and quickly handed the old man manning the booth ten euros to seal the deal. Back in France, Bronwyn took her dress to school and Mme Dia played the music from the opera Carmen. Bronwyn danced in The Dress, and the rest of her class danced with her.