Madrid

One of the greatest painting collections anywhere — Velázquez's Las Meninas alone justifies the trip. Don't try to see it all: pick two wings, go slowly, leave.

Europe's largest royal palace by floor area, and gaudy in the best way — throne rooms, a porcelain room, and the changing of the guard outside. Book online or queue.

The grand arcaded square at the centre of old Madrid. The terraces on it are a tourist tax — walk through, admire it, then eat one street away.

Madrid's back garden — row a boat on the lake, find the glass Crystal Palace, and watch the whole city do Sunday properly. Best in the hour before sunset.

Picasso's Guernica takes up a wall and silences the room. The rest — Dalí, Miró, twentieth-century Spain — is worth the ticket on its own.

A real 2nd-century BC Egyptian temple, gifted to Spain and rebuilt on a hill west of the centre. Go for sunset — it reflects in the pool and the whole city turns up.

A beautiful iron-and-glass market turned tapas hall. Touristy and not cheap, but the produce is superb and it's the easiest first meal in the city.

The classic La Latina crawl — one plate and one drink per bar, then move. Sunday after the Rastro is the local ritual. Stand at the bar; it's cheaper and better.

Madrid's Broadway — early-20th-century towers, neon, and theatres still selling out. Walk it after dark when the buildings are lit and the crowds are at their best.

Open since 1894 and, more importantly, open at 4am. Thick drinking chocolate and a plate of churros — the correct end to a Madrid night out, not a breakfast.

Real Madrid's rebuilt cathedral of football. The tour and trophy room are a pilgrimage; a match night in the stands is something else entirely.

The huge Sunday flea market spilling down La Latina's hills — junk, antiques, records, and the entire city out walking. Hold your bag, then go straight to the tapas.

The fountain where Real Madrid celebrates, in front of a palace that turned out to be the town hall. Climb its terrace for a view straight down the boulevard.

Not Madrid's invention, but it has the oldest tablaos still running. Small room, no microphones, feet like gunfire — book the late show, it's the one the dancers mean.

Madrid goes out later than anywhere in Europe — bars fill at one, clubs at three. Malasaña is where it's least polished and most fun. Nothing starts before midnight.

The third point of the art triangle and the most enjoyable — a private collection running Titian to Hopper, room by room, century by century. Do it before the Prado tires you out.

A century-old slaughterhouse turned sprawling arts complex — galleries, film, design and a good bar, all in gorgeous industrial brick by the river. Whatever's on, it's worth it.

A little cable car that floats you from the Rosaleda gardens out over the treetops to Casa de Campo — cheap, breezy, and a view of the whole skyline for a few euros.

Madrid's triumphal gate, floodlit and free-standing on its roundabout — grander than any monument to nothing has a right to be. Loop past it at night.

The city's most mixed, most alive barrio — Indian canteens, tabernas, murals and terraces spilling downhill. Come hungry and just follow the noise.