At Home, part 27

We began to have a steady stream of visitors ourselves. Stamford friends Gina Pitchon and Hank Udow had moved to London when we moved to Madrid, and they came for a brief stay. We were outside the Prado when Gina began reciting travel information to me. “Wait, I know what you’re quoting,” I said. “That’s from the Fodor guide.”

“I have all the Madrid guidebooks,” Gina said. “I have a long-standing travel philosophy: I’m allowed to buy guidebooks until they total right up to the cost of the plane ticket!”

Our close Stamford friends Amy and Rich Greenberg came, too, with their kids, 11-year-old Rebecca and 4-year-old Lenny. By then, in May, the weather was perfect and mild, and we spent many lazy hours on the patio, watching the kids in the pool, polishing off a plate of chorizo and one of olives.

On the Sunday of their visit we took a drive to find a park where there was supposed to be a calzada romana—the remains of a Roman road, with ancient paving stones still in place. We found the town near the park and took a table at a sunny café. All eight of us sat there in happy relaxation for an hour or so, enjoying our surroundings and the food. As we paid the waiter, we asked him for directions to the calzada, and he obliged.

We found the turnoff he had indicated, and we knew we were in the right place when we saw a double row of parked cars. People were unpacking coolers and folding chairs and heading down the path toward a shady forest.

We piled out of the car and immediately found ourselves surrounded by a thick cloud of huge, buzzing mosquitoes. “Oh, my God!” cried Rebecca. “I’m going to get eaten alive!”

“This is awful!” I yelled at Mike, swatting mosquitoes. “Let’s get out of here!”

But then we paused. “Wait a minute,” Rich said. “Is anyone getting bitten?”

We all checked ourselves. “No, I’m okay,” Julie said.

“Me, too,” said Amy. The mosquitoes were not biting! We shrugged and started down the path.

Only fifty yards along we started to see a few heavy paving stones, each about a foot square. “This is it,” Mike said. “This was a Roman road. People walked on this in ancient times. Chariots drove on this road!” Julie and Rebecca were old enough to be able to appreciate this, and we walked along in amazement as we saw the road become more complete and well-preserved, about 8 feet wide, stretching into the distance between the evergreens.