That evening we teamed up with Mark and Nan and walked up through the Albaicin neighborhood for a beautiful sunset view of the city. Dinner was at a small restaurant along the way, where the extremely low key waiter managed to serve everybody in the room (he was also the cook). We had a great time, somewhat tempered by Nan and Mark having their passports and tickets stolen earlier in the day, and the worry that we had started some sort of pandemic in Spain. Then it was back to Madrid, by bus. In Granada we had had a hard time finding a hotel room in Madrid; finally got reservations at the Hotel Villar, as recommended by Rita, near Plaza Santa Anna. Rita seemed to be affected the worst by our virus; she had missed the last night out in Granada, sick in bed. Although we're sure she didn't know it at the time, she got to retaliate a bit by sending us to the Hotel Villar. Had some of the best food of the trip that night, bar hopping and eating tapas (small appetizers, salads, and fried foods). The next day we checked out Picasso's Guernica at the modern art museum, and did some other sightseeing. We were both coughing pretty good by now, and had an extreme attack in a cab, desperately gasping "Pharmacia" at the driver. He could only chuckle at our plight; but little did he realize what horror awaited him and his passengers. That night we plopped into the overnight train to Paris.