The home base.I have yet to actually discuss the place I live, This place of such contradictory feelings. We have the love and the hate and the everything in between. Spanish people are a mystery. Cold, stuck in their ways, have no concept of a line until it comes to bus stops. The consider themselves very modern but are only 40 years out from a dictator. My Spanish bank card is more likely not to work than to work. They haven't figured out how to make Internet websites that function well or are helpful. They go out until 7 in the morning on a weekly basis. It is a culture of people who love to promenade. The streets are constantly a frenzy of people, everyone walks. The fashion can go from incredibly chic to the worst I have seen. On an average day I see shorts with tights under, poop pants (pictures to come) and they have a fascination with boots, even in the summer. It is the hottest place on earth during August. Old woman wear heals on the cobblestones. Spaniards yell rather than talk. There are museums dedicated to ham. The most beautiful place in the city during all seasons is the retiro. In the summer it is the perfect picnic spot with a boat ride. During the spring, the leaves burst with color, in the fall a crisp walk makes for rosy cheeks. The winter it is a little isolated, perfect for a Sunday run. If you say you are vegetarian, they assume you eat ham. Wine is abundant, good and cheap. The food is terrible, but the groceries are cheap and delicious. There is a serious lack of water, lakes, rivers, ocean or sea. Corte Ingles is the bees knees. They lisp. The buildings are beautiful. The city feels so small, I run into people I know all the time. It is always a party.
