Madrid for The Thrill Seekers: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Run or ride the riverbank park built over the old M-30 motorway, past Matadero and the bridges; ten flat kilometres with fountains and no traffic lights.

A 92-metre concrete tower with a glass lift and a deck that turns the whole city to a map; on a clear evening the Sierra shows, which is your Saturday.

Half a roast chicken, chorizo in cider and a jug of the same, at long tables on the Paseo de la Florida since 1888; the cider is poured from a height.

Take the C-2 train to Cercedilla and climb the Camino Schmid to the Puerto de Navacerrada: twelve kilometres of pine forest, steady gradient, cold at the top.

Cocido madrileño, three courses from a clay pot cooked on charcoal since 1870, the only lunch with enough chickpeas and bacon to follow a mountain; cash only.

Flamenco in a small tablao, close enough that the heel work moves the glasses; a late show suits legs that have walked twelve kilometres.

Eleven minutes in a glass gondola from the Rosales promenade over the Manzanares and the motorway, with the Palace and the Almudena in the window.

Run the lake loop in a park five times the size of Central Park, where wild boar and deer sit at the edges; eight kilometres of gravel and one rowing lake.

Huevos rotos with ham and a plate of croquetas on a narrow La Latina lane; high stools, short menu, made for people who run before lunch.

Run the outer ring of the Retiro, five and a half kilometres of flat gravel with the Crystal Palace at the halfway mark; the gates have been open since six.

The rebuilt stadium's tour goes to the pitch edge, the dressing rooms and the trophy room; metro line 10 stops at the door.

Fried cod croquettes and battered cod at the zinc counter where the Spanish socialist party was founded in 1879; pay at the till first, then eat.