In the Plaza de Santa Ana there was also a bar nearby made famous by Hemingway’s having drunk there. Apparently he never slept at night in Madrid. He wrote in Death in the Afternoon,

 

To go to bed at night in Madrid marks you as a little queer. For a long time your friends will be a little uncomfortable about it. Nobody goes to bed in Madrid until they have killed the night. Appointments with a friend are habitually made for after midnight at the cafe.

 

Or maybe Hemingway was suffering from time zone issues. I never killed the night, but I sometimes woke up at seven in the morning Seattle time.