It was saturday morning, i had herded everyone together at the aloted time, put the bread in the oven arranged meeting points and times and generally fussed and organised in a fashion somewhere between a mother and hitler.
I left the others to split off and sped round the Prado remebering the first time id come to spain with Nic and our art college, Id come to meet my dad and hadnt even made it to this palace of art, much to my tutors dismay. The architecture of the building interested me more than the renaisance art id spent so long falling asleep infront of during college art history lectures.
I walked out into the sunshine of the botanical gardens, a diluted eden and enjoyed the solitude and beauty before meeting the others and leading them to the gardens talking half an hour to explore the stunning narrow streets nearby. Each window adorned with french window shutters and a foot wide balcony over some bar or other. Expresso bars, tapas bars, jazz bars, park your moped outside bars, everyone oozing effortless hang-out style.
We went last to he cities main park, this was the heart of Madrid, whether posing sleeping, chilling dancing to brazilian drums or rowing it was here. musicuans played by topuaried trees and fountains, and a huge Roman semi circular colonade towered over the lake and people sat relaxing in the sun by mamoth lion castings, the gorgeous spanish men making it the best cat-walk in the city. This was madrid.
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