2 choices

I could either be the good husband and go see museums and art etc etc, or I could be the smart husband and do a tour of Real Madrid's Estadia Santiago Bernabeau. I chose the latter. I chose wisely. After a massive buffet breakfast effort, we went our separate ways, with the good money being on me never being seen again.

It wasn't hard getting there, as I just followed the thousands of other people. The recommended hour and a half tour took close to 3. 

My negotiations to sign with their Over 55 squad fell through so I drowned my sorrows with a lousy chicken burger and shake. The shame was not chicken, it was Nescafe caramel again, but it was lacking as well. I decided not to catch the metro back to the hotel and sleep, instead giving the last Decathlon store of the holidays a try. A 5 km walk later and at last it was the store I remembered from past Euro visits. Yet I still didn't buy much.  My shopping powers have dropped over the years,  but if it does ever get cold back home, my new gloves and neck warmer will come in handy.

I put on my big boy pants and successfully caught the train, got home at 5 pm and parked myself on the bed.
After Annette got back, we headed out to eat, and Peruvian it was, which sort of makes my ordering Spaghetti Bolognese look rather sad. Annette's chicken and chips came immediately while mine turned up about 20 minutes later. I don't think anyone has actually ordered it before. From here we went to a flamenco show. I went in quite sceptical but came out impressed, especially with the guitarist. Bootleg copies of the show will be available soon. That done, it was on to the packed trains back to a sleepless night.