by Isaure Cointreau

- I am a Bobo.

- A what?

- … a BOBO!

- What the hell does that mean?

Not everybody knows what it stands for but I believe everybody knows one. So where do they hide? Who are they? What do they eat? Just like you and I they are normal people who live in this completely dysfunctional world. However they can be distinguished by their extravagant lifestyle. Bobo is a label given by David Brooke to those who appear to lead their life through two opposite concepts such as the Bourgeoisie and the Boheme. Even so, this could to some not shed any more light to the term as it relates to very frenchy connotations. In simple words a Bobo is a mix between a hippy and a yuppie.

Are they somewhat of a specific bread of human? More of a group of snob idealists who can also be compared to eco-capitalists with strong roots in traditional values, though thinking ahead to the future and embracing modernity. In a nutshell, they are somewhat of a multi- contradictory grasp of ideas and ideals.

These urban inhabitants claim their wild wish to live in the countryside though they are intrinsically linked to the city. Working in a suit during the day, outside the office they change into the cool musician, bio-cook, anti-globalization supporter and so on. However, if one thinks they are cheap well let him think twice. Although they will only buy for the sake of setting an example, including values and ethics on every purchase, they won’t hesitate to look into their wallets. Purchasing the bio-toothpaste for the sake of the planet rather than its (disgusting) taste, they put a smile on Oxfam’s people rather than their banker, if only he knew. However as said before they are linked to the city, working in serious outfits by day, looking like any other entrepreneur, so money is not an issue. They just won’t spend it on a shopping stroll on the high end streets like the C/ Serrano. The Bobo is an anti-consumerist. One might find out that his new scarf had been traded at a barter market, his carrots and tomatoes grown in his backyard, his bookcase found on the street rather than bought. And in fact why not? It seems more of an inspiration, or aspiration than anything else.

Now that his profile is more or less defined, Madrid strikes me as being the perfect Bobo city. Although, it did require a little hint to make me link them to one another. On a hot Sunday while hanging out at a café plaza Dos de Mayo, I found a propaganda sticker on my chair. It said:

-Yo ya no uso MP3… Y TU?

-TAMPOCO: prefiero sentir el viento a mí alrededor – La poeta

- Tampoco – Sois Bobos.

The message instantly appealed to me and while I was thinking of what it was referring to, it appeared clearly that Madrid was completely suitable to the Bobo spirit. With New York, London and Paris along for the ride, Madrid is another happy habitat for those yuppie-hippies.

I would imagine them living in the center of Madrid, in boroughs such as la Latina or Huertas. These lively districts have a very welcoming vibe with charming little streets filled with restaurants, bars and jazz stages. Though not far from there, bookshops and art galleries flourish only to their delight. On the other hand the Rastro and la Charca de la Rana would be their destination when looking for antique furniture or to exchange goods.

Malasana on the other hand offers a perfect background for the Bobo hunt as it is not impossible to see them shopping in the numerous vintage and small designer shops. The nightlife in this area, although pretty delicious, is not their cup of tea as Bobos would prefer a more chilled ambiance. However, during the day the borough appears to them as a large coffee terrace.

As an individual I would depict the Bobo as an art amateur who enjoys a good museum once in a while. Cultivated and curious, he wants to know everything. Having a foot in the past, the other in the future, he doesn’t know how to define his taste other than defining it as personal, though as he cherishes the old and worships the new, he is the illustration of contradiction. He is a frequent movie goer though preferring the Cine Dore’s classics than any new Hollywood big budget creation. In fact he is also a member of the Circulos de Bellas Artes where he goes painting, sketching, reading or checking out the exhibitions.

Could this be the new rising class?

by Isaure Cointreau

A multifaceted place would be my choice as to define Madrid in a few words. Why so? I guess I would be referring to the impossibility of putting my finger on one specific madrileño side of the city that would not exclude the others. As if villages from different times and different ambiances were merged together as one, this is how Madrid feels to me.

When flipping a guide of the Spanish capital what caught my eye was how they would cut the city into zones easing the visitor’s understanding of the city. There is the cosmopolitan and the literary boroughs, the medieval and the royal areas, and last but not least the art walk. Reading about the latter, I started to wonder. Other than the Prado area, that is surrounded by the largest pinacothecas and most important galleries of Madrid, is that it? I couldn’t help disagree as I felt art was part of the essence of the city.

Art is a word that embodies a concept more that just a reference to what could be hung on a wall, and by that I include whatever creativity initiates. In that sense, wherever you go in Madrid you can feel its vibe. Such as a call from within, the European city that never sleeps, except for the siesta, has the Movida’s past days engraved in the life and spirit of its inhabitants. Flyers are present in every bar or boutique, suggesting you should have a peek at some short film festival, kitsch art gallery, underground concert or experimental exhibit. Why not check it out? Curiosity doesn’t have to be a flaw, on the contrary. Though it its true that when you start to indulge it, you’ll see yourself on the lookout for something new as “every fulfilled desire arouses the desire for more”.

Depending on what catches your eye, advertising is everywhere. Never have I seen such a place, on the one hand so accessible to art and on the other, people so connected to it. As there is always something going on and almost always affordable to all, it allows ones curiosity to grow into interest. In a nutshell, although in the world we are living in it is rarely the case, the luxury of an artistic education is here as it should be: accessible to all.

I’m not saying that madrileños, or Spaniards for that matter are more cultivated than others. I just feel that as Museums and the various exhibitions are for the most part free and on the run, it allows people to indulge their curiosity, nourish their imagination, and free their spirit. Having grown up with this access to creativity, the post-Franco generations feels more apt to express and share it. However, linking this fact with the relaxed culture of Spain and the relative openness of their ideas, I guess it should not feel as a surprise.

To conclude Spain wants to share an experience with you, don’t be shy and go for it. If you are curious enough, you’ll see that at some point it will become part of you and your vision of the Iberian culture. Set free the bohemian spirit within you.

What a bunch of foreign residents of Madrid love and hate about living in the Spanish capital.

by Tim Anderson

Bar Etiquette
You might find yourself wading through a sea of paper napkins and peanut shells on the floor. All the while the owner is smiling like a Cheshire cat, until you sit at the bar get out your wallet and ask for a coffee and he promptly turns his attitude into an arctic freeze. The ice age continues when you refuse the complimentary tapas that were offered with your beer, even though you try to explain that you have just eaten the equivalent amount of the average sumo wrestler. The classic mistakes of the tourist ‘fresh off the boat’.
Don’t be overawed with the sea of shells. It´s a sign that the bar is popular and so most owners will let it pile up a little before getting someone to sweep it up. It also makes it a little easier if it’s all in the same place to pick it up more quickly.
When you go to order in Spain, there are two prices for most things in the bar, and they relate to whether you sit at the bar or sit at a table. The table is considered a much more refined and luxurious experience while a seat at the bar, with the noise of the orders going around you and the bartender buzzing about, is relatively nasty. As well, it´s easier for the bartender to see and serve you at the bar and make sure you are not taking a place in his establishment without ordering lots of his delicious offerings.
Put down the wallet! You may just be insulting the owner by suggesting there definitely wont be anything else you want to have while you are here. Wait, enjoy, see how you feel and don´t rush. All in good time, until you ask for ‘la cuenta por favor’ at the end.
Don’t refuse the tapas either. You don’t have to have it, but admire, nibble if you can. It’s more part of tradition and the experience rather than a necessity. Eat, don’t eat but let him give it to you. It doesn’t cost extra.

by Helen Macrae

As city, Madrid has got it all. With theatres and tapas, bars and bullfighting, shopping and sunshine, it’s cosmopolitan, frenetic, bold, brash and…smelly.

When I first touched down in Spain I was overwhelmed by the host of aromas to hit my nose (starting with that all-too familiar smell of smoke mere seconds after I had walked into arrivals), but after a while I became accustomed to it all as I busied myself with daily life, trotting around the city teaching executives useful words like chav, monkfish and Tesco clubcard. It took a visit from my parents and their non-initiated noses to remind me that Madrid has an amazing array of aromas, some of them nice and some of them nasty, but all combining to create that unique “Esencia de Madrid”.

My sensory journey begins each morning at Metro Sol, when I change from Line 3 to Line 1 and my nostrils are hit with the delicious smell of freshly-baked waffles coming from the cafe in the station. Luckily I’m always in too much of a rush to stop and buy any, otherwise I’d currently be the size of a small country. Unfortunately though, even this divine smell is sometimes not enough to mask the stink of drains which seems to permanently hang in the air round Sol. Other unpleasant odours I experience on the Metro to work are B.O., bad breath and, my personal favourite, the smell of someone sweating out alcohol they drank the night before. Yuk.

More agreeable aromas you might encounter as you journey round Madrid include cut grass when the gardeners have been out in force in one of the city’s numerous parks, along with the delightful scent of flowers as you walk by the Botanical Gardens next to the Retiro. The smell of cigarette smoke is pretty much unavoidable anywhere you go, as is that of frying food, both of which may or may not to be your taste. As you wander round Lavapies you’re hit with the pungent smell of curry, laced with a whiff of hash and perhaps a dash of urine. Walk round the more well-heeled barrios of the city such as Salamanca, Retiro and Opera, and you can smell money.

But my favourite smell in Madrid is one that it’s difficult to put my finger on, and which at times can be quite elusive. As my mate H puts it, it’s that smell you sometimes catch a waft of on a summer’s evening, just as dusk is drawing in, a smell full of promise and anticipation of the night’s adventures. The smell of fun!

Madrid Metro – Smells delightful?

So, this question has been causing us a little bit of debate in the office. What is the oldest pub in the world? And where is it? Please add your answers below, everyone seems to have a different answer. So let’s get the ball rolling on this one…