Madrid hits 20°C in midwinter: no coats, no reason to go out

Madrid at 20 degrees in midwinter: no coats and no desire to go out

A USB that isn't in the store, a grey city and a queue of people staring at their phones without looking up. That is the picture of a winter day in Madrid that starts with a failed purchase at PCcomponents and ends with the conclusion that the best option was staying on the sofa with a blanket, a movie or Quevedo. The thermometer, mind you, read around 20 degrees. And that's where the confusion begins: half the city in short sleeves, the other half in wool coats and scarves.

The USB that wasn't there and the emergency online order

The scene is routine to the point of boredom: you go out to buy a USB, the physical store doesn't have it, so you have to order it online. Small retail logistics keep losing the race to the click. It's not a tragedy, but it adds up. On top of that comes the scenery: ugly clouds, people glued to their screens and a feeling that the city just isn't on your side.

The author sums it up with a wry tone: better off at home, under a blanket, watching movies, reading Quevedo or plotting the next day's moves. Someone replies that a blog should be peine to confuse the masses. The irony runs deep.

Why are people in short sleeves at 20 degrees in winter?

Because 20 degrees are 20 degrees. The discussion quickly drifted to other people's clothing: if at that temperature you wear a wool coat, fur boots and a scarf, the problem isn't the weather, it's habit. Most of the women one participant crossed paths with were overdressed. The question hanging in the air: when the freezing temperatures arrive, what will they wear?

Then comes the climate change angle. Every mild winter is invoked as proof, and every cold snap as refutation. The reality is more prosaic: winter clothes are bought in the sales and worn whether it's cold or not.

Madrid and Almería: an escape that weighs more every year

The author is clear: he spends his life at the beach and is only in Madrid in fits and starts, less every year. This weekend, God willing, off to Almería. The comeback wasn't long in coming: between Vallecas and Almería, existential disgust is guaranteed. The capital as a formality, the coast as the destination. A pattern repeated in many bar conversations and dispatched here in two lines.

The countryside, Netflix and real life

The sharpest jab came over leisure: watching a movie at home is, according to the reply, bingeing on Netflix's American catalogue. The countryside, on the other hand, offers entertainment without a subscription. It's the old dispute between the sofa and the vegetable garden, between the algorithm and the hoe. Nobody is going to settle it today.

The author brings it to a close: he heads out again, freshly showered and having had his snack, to see if anything has changed. With 20 degrees and short sleeves, we doubt it.