MAD - Madrid’s Feria de Abril

Madrid’s Feria de Abril: The Capital’s Andalusian Escape

MADRID, Spain — The scent of sizzling pescaíto frito mixes with the sound of clapping hands and guitar strings as Madrid transplants a slice of Seville to Casa de Campo each spring. The Feria de Abril de Madrid, the capital’s homage to Andalusia’s most iconic festival, has become a must-experience event for locals and travelers alike—a spectacle of swirling flamenco dresses, horse-drawn carriages, and sherry-fueled revelry that transforms the city for nearly a week.

From Humble Beginnings to Must-See Event

What began in 1996 as a modest gathering for Seville transplants has exploded into one of Madrid’s premier spring attractions. Last year’s edition drew over 500,000 visitors, according to city officials, with 2024 expected to break records.

“It’s not just Andalusians anymore,” says festival organizer Marta Ruiz. “We see Madrileños in full traje de gitana, Japanese tourists trying rebujitos for the first time—even the mayor comes to dance sevillanas.”

Inside the Casetas: Where the Magic Happens

The real heartbeat of the fair pulses inside the casetas—some 200 temporary pavilions ranging from exclusive private clubs to rowdy public tents. A recent afternoon visit revealed:

  • Casetas de Peña (members-only): Where politicians and celebrities discreetly network over jamón ibérico
  • Public tents along Avenida del Brasil: Packed with university students singing along to Los del Río’s “Macarena” (yes, still)
  • The “International” caseta: Where expats gamely attempt the four-part sevillanas dance

“The steps look simple until you’ve had three rebujitos,” laughs Canadian tourist Daniel West, clinging to a tent pole after a spirited but uncoordinated effort.

Controversy and Change

Not everyone embraces the southern invasion. Some Madrileños grumble about the festival’s growing commercialization—this year will see sponsored casetas from Iberia and Mahou beer—while traditionalists decry the dilution of authentic flamenco.

“You hear more reggaeton than palmas these days,” complains veteran dancer Antonio Molina. “But if it brings young people to our culture, pues bueno.”