In Pedro Almodóvar's film The Flower of My Secret, Marisa Paredes's estranged husband rings her from Brussels, asking if it's not too late to call. She replies a little wistfully, "In Madrid it's never late." This might serve as a tourist board slogan for a city whose fondness for nocturnal living has few rivals.
Spain as a whole is, of course, highly attuned to late-night life. Playwright Federico García Lorca once said that the moment just before dawn was when a gentleman should retire to bed – and major cities such as Barcelona, Seville and Valencia can all lay convincing claim to the title of nightlife capital of Spain.
But it is Madrid that has cultivated most assiduously the image of a city where life is lived more intensely after dark. Visitors are often astonished to see, in the early hours of a summer morning, children and their parents are out and about in the parks, traffic jams along the Paseo de la Castellana, and queues at stalls selling crisp fried churros and cups of hot chocolate as thick as custard.
Spend any length of time in Madrid and one is struck by the city's unique and occasionally unfathomable biorhythms. Lunch is often at 3pm or later, dinner never earlier than 10pm, and no one in their right mind would think of going out dancing before two or three in the morning.
When I came to Madrid from London in the late 1980s, I would be dressed up in my gladrags well before midnight and spend the next few hours rapping my fingers or, worse, getting so tanked up in the pre-club bars that when the disco hour came round I was practically ready for bed. Coping with the Madrileño nightlife requires careful pacing and, if at all possible, a long afternoon snooze – the siesta is one of Spain's greatest gifts to the world, along with jamón ibérico and Penélope Cruz.
Madrid's obsession with la noche is partly conditioned by the climate: the plain fact is that, in the summer months, only after sundown is it actually pleasant to venture out into the street. Nightlife here is, then, less about raving than routine, about having to do at night those things which you might otherwise do during the day. It covers all ages and activities, from watching your grandchildren play on the swings, drifting round an art gallery (late-night openings at the Prado and Thyssen were a huge hit last year), or grazing on tapas in some old-town square, to dancing your tits off at Ibiza-style megaclubs like Fabrik (Avenida de la Industria 82, +34 90 293 0322, grupo-kapital.com/fabrik) and Space of Sound (Plaza Estación de Chamartín, +34 90 249 9994, spaceofsound.com).
The nature and rhythm of Madrid nightlife varies according to which barrio you wander into. Chueca, the once-derelict neighbourhood north of the Gran Vía, has made itself over into one of Europe's most vibrant gay quarters, with the result that many of Madrid's notorious dens of iniquity – leather clubs and the like – sit cheek by jowl with straight-friendly cafes, dance clubs and bares de copas (drinking bars) in a rainbow-coloured simulacrum of San Francisco's Castro district.
Madrid's strong point, apart from its incombustible energy, lies in its diversity. Barrio de Salamanca is good for sleek, chic nightspots such as 4 Bajo Cero (Calle de Alcalá 90, +34 91 576 8091) and the Starck-designed Ramses (Plaza de la Independencia 4, +34 91 435 1666, ramseslife.com), where the patrons are well-groomed pijos (posh types). Multiracial, lefty Lavapiés, on the other hand, scores for the cheerfully grungy feel of its boozy bars and booze-less teterias (tea shops). A long-term Lavapiés favourite of mine is the hilariously down-at-heel dive bar La Lupe (Calle Torrecilla del Leal 12, +34 91 527 5019). Malasaña, meanwhile, acts as a magnet for indie rockers and narrow-trousered young trendies – check out Calle del Espíritu Santo, a funky street of shops and cafes that takes on an edgier feel after midnight. TriBall, the triangle of sordid Soho-like streets north of Gran Vía, is worth a look to see how groovy bars and boutiques can be made from old knocking shops. Moncloa, student heaven, is best avoided unless you have an anthropological interest in sticky-floored discotecas where the screams of a thousand 18-year-olds almost drown out the thudding Euro-trance.
Success in la noche madrileña means getting to grips with certain concepts. Number one: la terraza. In a restaurant context terraza means an outdoor space with tables for eating, drinking and (crucially) smoking. On a hot summer night, such spaces are sought-after – since the smoking ban they are often the only place you can light up a cigarillo with your cerveza.
In the 1980s, the open-air bars of Paseo de la Castellana were where the city's movers and groovers spent summer nights. Street-level terrazas have lost their edge in the intervening years – though Diego Cabrera's gorgeous open-air cocktail lounge in the gardens of the Casa de América (Paseo de Recoletos 2, +34 91 577 5955, casamerica.es), which was all the rage last summer, is an exception.
But the terrazas to head for now are of the rooftop variety. The fashion was kick-started by The Penthouse at the ME Madrid hotel (Plaza de Santa Ana 14, +34 91 701 6000, solmelia.com, rooms from around €160) and the top-floor terraza at Hotel Urban (Carrera de San Jerónimo 34, +34 91 787 7770, derbyhotels.com, rooms from around €190), where there are great views and anaesthesia-inducing cocktails. But the rooftop bar-under-the-stars is such a brilliant idea it's only surprising no one had thought of it earlier.
The rooftop bar at the Room Mate Óscar hotel (Plaza Vázquez de Mella 12, +34 91 701 1173, room-matehotels.com, rooms from €98) ticks all the boxes with DJ beats, nice-looking punters and a pool. The new Mercado de San Antón, which hopes to do for Chueca what the Mercado de San Miguel has done for the Plaza Mayor area, boasts a gorgeous corner terraza, La Cocina de San Antón (Calle de Augusto Figueroa 24, +34 91 330 0294, lacocinadesananton.com) with tantalising views of old-town rooftops and people's sitting rooms.
Nightlife trends are explored and exploited to the max in Spain. Madrid's fascination with cocktail culture goes back several decades. Classic bars such as Chicote (Calle Gran Vía 12, +34 91 532 6737, museo-chicote.com) are still among Europe's temples of mixology. Latterly, however, the cocktail scene has taken off in new directions, names to conjure with being Javier de las Muelas's Dry Cosmopolitan at the Gran Meliá Fénix (Calle de Hermosilla 2, +34 91 431 6700, solmelia.com), the Bar Cock (Calle de la Reina 16, +34 91 532 2826, barcock.com), Belmondo (Cuesta de los Caños Viejos 3, +34 91 366 3013, belmondococktails.com), and the gin bar at Mercado de la Reina (Calle de la Reina 16, +34 91 521 3198, mercadodelareina.es).
These days, Manhattans and martinis are as common as Madrid's traditional vermú (vermouth), caña (draught beer) and big glass of red wine, and cocktails with tapas at gastro-coctelerías like Seven & Six (Seven & Six, Paseo Pintor Rosales 76, +34 91 549 7536, gastrobar76.com) are now the height of modishness.
Anyone ordering a G&T should be prepared, not just for Spain's legendary generosity when it comes to pouring the liquor, but also for the barrage of questions that precedes it. Which gin would you prefer? Any decent Madrid bar will have all the newest designer brands. Which tonic? Ditto. And which kind of glass? Local preference is for a balloon the size of a goldfish bowl.
La noche madrileña would be nothing without la música. The live music scene was hit by a wave of municipal clampdowns and closures, but has picked itself up and dusted itself down, and jazz, blues, folk, world music and flamenco all have their place at venues such as Clamores (Calle de Alburquerque 14, +34 91 445 7938, salaclamores.com) and Sala Caracol (Calle de Bernardino Obregón 18, +34 91 527 3594, salacaracol.com). El Sol (Calle de los Jardines 3, +34 91 532 6490) and Joy Eslava (Calle del Arenal 11, +34 91 366 3733, joy-eslava.com) are veterans of the city centre, the latter in an old theatre, while La Riviera (Paseo Virgen del Puerto, +34 91 365 2415, salariviera.com), with its famous palm tree, is simply the doyen of Spain's live pop venues (Primal Scream, to give just one example, chose to unveil their rebooted Screamadelica there.)
When I first moved to Spain, at the height of acid house in the UK, I was amazed by how full-on the Madrid club scene was – and it still is. The capital's what's on guide lists no fewer than 249 discotecas – not bad for a city half the size of London. The big-night-out clubs such as Goa, Pacha, Macumba and Fabrik are always there if you should need them, but veteran watchers of la noche tell me the best fun to be had right now is at small and sweaty club nights where Madrid is finally creeping up on Berlin and London as a happening club-cultural hub. Alcohol-fuelled trashiness and eclecticism rule. Charada (Calle de la Bola 13, +34 91 524 9856, charadaclubdebaile.com) is the house club of the moment (Zombie on Wednesdays and Pantera on Saturdays, I'm informed, are the best nights).
It has to be said, though, that the nightlife most madrileños prefer is more sedate: walks in the Retiro park, or along the newly spruced-up Manzanares river. Tapas and beers followed by a foreign movie in the early hours at the Cine Ideal (Calle del Doctor Cortezo 6, +34 91 369 1053, yelmocines.es) is another option, or chocolate con churros at the Chocolatería San Ginés (Pasadizo de San Ginés 5, +34 91 365 6546).
In summer, I like a late-night concert in some atmospheric urban setting. Daniel Barenboim and his Palestinian/Israeli orchestra playing muscular Beethoven in Plaza Mayor, and a flamenco group in the Sabatini Gardens left impressions of moonlit cityscapes, ice-cold beers and audiences furiously fanning themselves until a cool breeze finally swept away the burning remains of the day.
Madrid caters well to its own need to live nocturnally. The highly efficient Metro, easy to use as well as a bargain, closes around 2am. White taxis are cheap and plentiful. If all else fails, central Madrid is compact enough to make walking home less of an ordeal than a pleasure. And one thing's for sure: no matter how late the hour, you'll never walk alone.
