And the winner is September. September is the best month for a stay in Madrid. Days are warm, but not hot. Nights are chilly, but not cold. Life is like a stormy day on a hot coast, when relieved and pleased one puts on some socks and a long sleeve in the middle of the day. When at night one has to wrap the body in some sort of cloth. Like a calm day after a night fool of noise and wine. Like reading under a quilt, with a cup of tea in hand, on the longest of rainy days.
Madrid is relaxed, stretching lazily in the early-autumn sun, shedding leaves with grace, fulfilled after the summer wave of tourists, willing to show us the other, more gentle face.
If I ever return here in a few years, I want to return in September.
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