A Love Letter
Dear Madrid,
This is an open love letter to the city. From your beautiful parks full of life and light to your endless bars constantly blooming with people of all ages… elderly ladies laughing and sharing wine at little tables on the pavement outside of cafes at 11:30am whilst young children play football beside them. Pug Dogs caress the sidewalks and often drag their humans along with great fervor until, a few minutes later, they collapse with exhaustion and refuse to move. A team of men in fluorescent clothing drill a hole in the floor and stop to wave as you walk by with a smile on your face. Even the look of terror that often greets the words of English spoken in a supermarket is a loveable thing and the city rings with a nightlife that spins and springs to life as the midnight hour approaches… the city truly never sleeps (except between 2pm and 4pm). We climb out onto our terraces, and into the beaming sunshine, to see our neighbours across the street, but seemingly within touching distance, bouncing to song and singing along… sipping Sangria and whatever else it is that brings a smile to their sunned faces. Down in Puerta del Sol, Plaza de Santa Ana, La Latina, or even on the streets of a quiet barrio such as Prosperidad one can flow with the streams of Americanos, English, Irish, French, Mexican, South American, Honduran, German, Czech, Slovakian, Bulgarian and, of course, the beautiful Spanish. Even a rare sighting of a Scot may sometimes occur… usually only in an English speaking bar where even their fellow Brits struggle to understand them at the best of times. The city hosts a myriad of cultural diversity exploding in a brilliant and bright light that is both metaphoric and literal.
Sincerely,
Me.
This is an open love letter to the city. From your beautiful parks full of life and light to your endless bars constantly blooming with people of all ages… elderly ladies laughing and sharing wine at little tables on the pavement outside of cafes at 11:30am whilst young children play football beside them. Pug Dogs caress the sidewalks and often drag their humans along with great fervor until, a few minutes later, they collapse with exhaustion and refuse to move. A team of men in fluorescent clothing drill a hole in the floor and stop to wave as you walk by with a smile on your face. Even the look of terror that often greets the words of English spoken in a supermarket is a loveable thing and the city rings with a nightlife that spins and springs to life as the midnight hour approaches… the city truly never sleeps (except between 2pm and 4pm). We climb out onto our terraces, and into the beaming sunshine, to see our neighbours across the street, but seemingly within touching distance, bouncing to song and singing along… sipping Sangria and whatever else it is that brings a smile to their sunned faces. Down in Puerta del Sol, Plaza de Santa Ana, La Latina, or even on the streets of a quiet barrio such as Prosperidad one can flow with the streams of Americanos, English, Irish, French, Mexican, South American, Honduran, German, Czech, Slovakian, Bulgarian and, of course, the beautiful Spanish. Even a rare sighting of a Scot may sometimes occur… usually only in an English speaking bar where even their fellow Brits struggle to understand them at the best of times. The city hosts a myriad of cultural diversity exploding in a brilliant and bright light that is both metaphoric and literal.
Sincerely,
Me.
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