If there is one attraction Madrid is not lacking in, it is most definitely its bountiful variety of breathtaking museums. There is the ever elegant Prado Museum with its romantic, classical paintings and sculptures, the alternative artwork of Reina Sofia surrounding the famed historical “Guernica,” and the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum which I have not been lucky enough to set eyes upon quite yet. And let's not forget one of the most-visited museums of the region: Bernabeu Museum - a futból (soccer) museum. While all very popular, and for very good reason, Madrid’s beauty is far from limited to these obvious institutions. One hidden gem for those with enough time to wander off the cliché tourist path is Cerralbo Museum.
Museo Cerralbo was the former home of Enrique de Aguilera y Gamboa, the 17th Marquis of Cerralbo, a politician, poet and archaeologist who lived from 1844 to 1922. In 1944 his home was opened as a museum. Enrique’s ancestors can be traced back to 14th Century Aristocracy residing in Salamanca. In 1533, his forefather was named marquis by Carlos I. Enrique was one of thirteen children. On his father’s death in 1867, as the oldest living son, he acquired the title of the “conde de Villalobos," providing him with a comfortable financial status in the middle range aristocracy. Then, in the 1870’s his paternal uncles and grandfather died, making him the most senior male in line, and consequently heir to the tile of “marquésado de Cerralbo” and therefore one of the highest ranking nobles of Spain. Following his marriage to a widow 30 years’ his senior with two children, his Madrid home, intended to be in some respects an art gallery, was finished in 1883.
Throughout his life, de Cerralbo held public office, distinguishing himself in the Carlist Party; he played an instrumental role in discovering what was at that time the most ancient European human settlement and created numerous regulations and instruments for the improvement of archaeology; and he wrote books of poetry and volumes of archaeology, all the while amassing one of the largest collections of armory, paintings, candles, coins, rugs, tapestries, furniture, marbles watches, lamps, and sculptures, totaling over 28,000 objects. Embracing the 19th Century collectionist passion, this man really liked...stuff.
Cerralbo Museum is located on Calle Ventura Rodríguez, 17, near Plaza de España, and it is open (and free!) from 2:00 until 3:00 on Saturdays, 5:00 until 8:00 on Thursdays, and from 10:00 until 3:00 on Sundays. If these times do not work, the most it will cost you to peek into this wonderful home is €3.00 - and it is time well spent. About two hours should be sufficient time to see it all, provided most of the time is not spent merely gawking at the elaborate glory of it all.
When I first read about this mansion, I expected an old, moderately well-decorated home, crammed with items acquired in de Cerralbo's lifetime. Instead, we encountered an elegant, elaborately designed estate – a small palace, on a random side street in the middle of the city. If you do not know where you are going, its exterior is not remarkable enough to draw your attention, and you could easily miss out on this glance back in time.
I entered through a pair of unassuming glass doors into a bleak hallway, and up a set of uncertain stairs before finding myself launched back into an elegant era. Encased in marble, a staircase on the right wound up to the next level, surrounded by stone busts, classical paintings and gilded railings, while a shorter staircase to the left led to the start of our journey. The very friendly attendants pointed us down a plain hallway lined with lockers where we dropped off my purse and got our free ticket stubs and a map, before being directed back to where we came from, and beginning our adventure back in time. The first hall we encountered was smothered with those wonderful and dark floor-to-ceiling paintings, and we perused each one casually in turn until reaching a dead-end that peered outside onto the fountain-ed and manicured courtyard. We returned to the mouth of the hall and were directed by the very friendly tour guide into our first real taste of this home.
Each of the many rooms that twisted around the building was relatively small, but that did not stop the decorators from taking advantage of every inch - and then-some. Every room was filled with stiff, curvy furniture, color-coordinated to the walls and decór - pale pinks, sea greens, stark whites, and glamorous gold. There were knick-knacks here and there, but they were all overshadowed by colorful chandeliers dripping with prismatic glass along the walls and in the center of the ceiling of each room, and even more-so by the perfectly intact, gilded mirrors of inordinate proportions. Oftentimes, these terrific looking-glasses hung high on the walls at an angle that made you a little nervous to linger too long beneath them.
After winding through a set of lounge-type rooms and peeking into a rather plain bedroom, we shuffled down a narrow hallway covered with more drawings, paintings, and to our left, an enormous, frayed tapestry, before emerging and being directed to the “entrance hall.”
To make it to the entrance hall, you must go back to the entrance way and climb your way up the more elegant, winding marble staircase, surrounded by a line of busts, and guided by an intricate rose-gold and silver railing. And of course more mirrors and chandeliers.
One element that was impossible to ignore about this mansion was the immensely intricate detail of it all. Within the entrance hall where the Marquis greeted his worthy guests, the hardwood floors were laid out in an angular pattern. The deep red ceilings were inundated with a collection of armor and weaponry for men and horses. But the best piece of it all for me was the ceiling. Carved into the fine wood above us were dozens of intricate, three-dimensional shields. Past the armory and related gadgets and at the end of the hall was a room you could only peek into from where we were. It had once been a conservatory filled with plants, but its most recent use was for smoking while marveling at international trinkets - colorful Moroccan lamps, sleek samurai swords, wooden javelins, and various statues.
Our return down the hall allowed us to pass a small litter - a carriage hardly big enough for one person, with poles for four people to carry this cramped individual - and a “bathroom.” History lesson for the day - they still did not have toilets here in the early 1900’s. The bathrooms were incredibly small with just enough room to stand between a sink jutting from the wall and a large stone tub.
From the entrance hall, a path jutted off, ultimately opening up into the grandest of dinging rooms - a large room filled with a table that looked as if it had recently been left by its aristocratic diners. China and glassware filled the surface, as did serving dishes full of fake, dried fruits and bread and snow white linens. 
To the right of the entrance room we found two small rooms - one an office, now filled with trinkets acquired over de Cerralbo's lifetime, and one a parlor where women would prepare themselves before the meal and an evening of entertainment. In every room, the theme continued to reign true - an excessive display of mirrors and chandeliers.
The large dining hall gave way to the billiards room. The table was interesting, high, with long pool cues and no holes for the balls. Tall, uncomfortable-looking benches lined the walls, where it was said women would watch the men play this game.
From there we entered an absolutely breathtaking sitting area where individuals would relax and pass the time between dancing with gossiping, and likely longing gazes as the intricate detail surrounding them. The room was angelic - literally / with religious murals gracing the ceilings and walls. The thresholds were adorned with marble statues and detail. From here, a collection of small rooms lined the perimeter
The sitting room led way to set of hallways de Cerralbo used as his own museum of art, ceiling to floor. Painting were mounted everywhere - including the ceiling - surrounding sculptures and wooden treasure chests. Thick, grand tables now show several pieces of jewelry, lockets and watches. Side rooms allowed a peak into an office, de Cerralbo would use, inundated with clocks as if Captain Hook was the interior decorator, and a cozy library of ancient books and coins. Above us, whimsically colorful chandeliers hung.
Our final stop in this museum/house/palace was the ballroom itself, the room it seemed all other rooms were preparing its visitors for. The cream and golden colored marble room was used for all matters of entertainment - dances, reading, and political debates. Marble busts and cherubs surrounded the walls and hung from the ceiling, which had been covered in murals. Finally, in case one had not gotten a good look at him or herself, mirrors lined the walls in between the marble pillars. 
Museo de Cerralbo was a beautifully magical surprise, and it was worth the journey. It is hard to imagine having so much wealth at one's fingertips. The home - one of de Cerralbo's many homes - dripped in detail that danced the line between elegant and obnoxious.
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