Bruth warned me that jet-lag might hit on the second day, and it did. Perkiness vanished, temporarily. Luckily, it was not a heavy sightseeing day – we took an hour long bus ride through the scrubby countryside to El Escorial, a vast palace and monastery built by one of the many Philips. But it was disappointing: not very splendid, very cold and plain – because it’s a monastery as well as a palace – and didn’t even have that many works of art – way too many crucifixions and Marys and etc. There was a beautiful Velasquez so Bruth was happy, and I was happy when we walked in the palace gardens afterwards, in the sun.