The After-Work Diaries: Madrid Edition

Business trips have a rhythm of their own – airport queues, meeting rooms, jet-lagged eyes, polite smiles, small talk over coffee. They don’t happen often enough for me, but when they do, they break my routine in unexpected ways. They start with structure and schedules, but somewhere between airports, boardrooms and hotel lobbies, there’s a pause – a little window where life feels different.

And so in the first week of September 2025, I found myself in Madrid for 2 business days – that’s about it. But then, the thing about Europe – and something that always strikes me as so different from India – is how much life begins after work.

The first evening after work – a quick change into lighter casual clothing, I headed out. The sun was still warm and bright. And there I was – no plan, no map – just a pair of tired feet and the eagerness to witness the after-work hours in an European city.

The Bernabéu wasn’t far from my hotel, and I had strict instructions from my husband to not miss it 😂. The stadium loomed ahead, the architecture high and mighty with all silver curves. And even though there wasn’t a match that night, it still buzzed with energy with fans wandering around taking photos.

My husband’s a huge football fan, so I called him from outside the stadium – a little virtual tour of sorts. I walked him around on video, showing him the grand facade before wandering into the Starbucks tucked next to the Bernabéu complex – two floors, warm lighting, beautiful design details – and the big surprise: an upper-level lounge with full glass views into the stands.

But well, I walked out, in search of a pub that I had been told by colleagues, has sweeping views of the stadium. I wandered across and found myself at Plaza Mahou, a space that’s part bar, part brewery, part stadium-experience all wrapped into one. A really huge space that sits right at Gate 54 of the Bernabéu, in the “Plaza de los Sagrados Corazones” façade. What makes it special is the fact that you’re not just grabbing a drink near the stadium – you’re inside its atmosphere – the tables and terrace overlooking the pitch.

I settled into a terrace seat, beer in hand, and let myself absorb my first evening after work in Madrid – lights, laughter, ease. The stadium loomed beside me, alive in its quiet way, like a giant that takes a breath and watches the world flow by. Not for very long though as I had to go back to my laptop and PPTs awaiting to be modified for the next day at work.

The next day flew by in a blur of meetings, presentations, and more polite nods over coffee cups. The kind of day that feels both productive and exhausting in equal measure. But somewhere between wrapping up the last discussion and shutting down my laptop, I felt that familiar pull again – the city waiting outside, golden and alive, inviting me out for one more evening.

The second evening after work in Madrid – And for this day, I even had plans, or just one. I took a bus into Madrid’s Old Town, the heart of the city and it’s narrow cobbled streets akin to that of old European towns and cities.

I got off near Plaza Mayor, and found my way into the crowd – whether locals or tourists – I have no idea. I wandered through the lanes, found a small heladería (Spanish word for an ice cream parlour) and treated myself to 2 scoops of ice cream, because why not? I sat on the steps for a while, just people-watching – some taking photos, some deep in animated conversation, couples strolling hand in hand.

From there, I started walking with no real plan, just following the gentle slope of the streets until the grand outline of the Royal Palace of Madrid appeared ahead of me. The palace stood majestic under the (still) brightly lit up sky, and in front of it’s gate stood a long, very long queue of people waiting to get inside. And was I glad that I wasn’t in that queue! Anyway, it was a hot day and I had to give myself some time to catch on some breath before heading towards what I had planned for the evening.

Well, I did make another stop. A deviation from the Google Maps route lead me to the Mercado de San Miguel. I peeped in out of sheer curiosity and was pleasantly surprised. An iron-and-glass food market that glowed like a jewel in the middle of the old quarter. The place was buzzing – locals and tourists shoulder to shoulder, tapas piled high on counters, the air alive with the scent of seafood, cured ham, and freshly baked bread. I tried tapas for the first time – little bites of everything: fish, cheese, croquetas, even a quick sip of sangria. I was amazed by how much variety fit into one space — and how every stall seemed to tell its own story of Spain, served on a small plate.

Then came the highlight of the evening – a Flamenco show – and that really was my only planned activity. I made my way to a place I’d been anticipating — the Tablao Flamenco 1911 in the vibrant neighborhood of Plaza de Santa Ana (Plaza de Santa Ana, 15, Madrid) in the literary-district of Las Letras. Known as the “Cathedral of Flamenco,” this venue dates back to 1911 and is recognised as the oldest tablao in the world.

Once inside, I got a helping of nice cocktail (on the house), much required after braving the heat. And soon I was shown the way to my seat, the stage ready and audience eagerly waiting.
The interior felt historic — décor rich with Andalusian-Moorish arches, tiled walls, and warm wood, giving the whole place a timeless atmosphere. I was seated in one of the zones right in front of the stage and the stage itself was raised so I had no worries of not being able to get a clear view (which often is the case with tiny people like yours truly).

And so I could clearly watch the dancers’ stamping feet, flowing dresses, the guitar strings and the singer’s voice fill the room. The show lasted an hour, every moment full of tension, presence, emotion.

When the final note faded and the applause filled the room, I sat there for a moment, letting it all sink in – the rhythm, the emotion, the sheer intensity of it. It felt almost impossible to just walk out after something that raw and beautiful, but it had to be done.

I found a small restaurant nearby, with the usual sprawl of tables outside onto the street, found myself a quiet table and ordered a quick dinner and a beer.

Then I walked back to my hotel, the streets still buzzing but the night breeze cooler against the day’s warmth.

Back in my room, I packed my bags, set an early alarm, and sat for a moment by the window – that familiar pre-departure stillness settling in. Two days of work, two evenings of wonder. That’s the thing about business trips – you go for the meetings, but it’s the after-work hours that stay with you.

And so ended my After-Work Diaries: Madrid Edition – a gentle reminder to myself that even amidst all the chaos, deadlines, and unending work, life still finds a way to unfold in the most unexpected and beautiful ways.