Maybe not according to some, but I was struck by this sign outside a building near our hotel. They all look like this, by the way. Have yet to see a building that wasn’t provincial with eaves and peaks, and wrought iron details or shutters around the windows. I live for cool architecture — and passive aggressive notes — so thinking of giving this the black and white treatment and throwing into a frame when I get home.
*Plaza de Santa Ana, Madrid, Spain
Besides bits and pieces of the language (lo siento, Sra. Alessio) and the memory of my friend Jon doing a tripod in the middle of class, one of the few things I remember about my Spanish classes in high school was the story of Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes. It has something to do with an anciet gentleman who fought windmills. Yes, windmills, because he thought they were enemy soldiers. Dude was cray.
In the streets around our hotel, there are phrases, proverbs and quotes written in the pavement. After lunch yesterday, we stumbled upon this one:
Where’s Santo Pancho and his donkey?
*Calle Prado, Madrid. Translates to: “In a village of la Mancha, the name of which I don’t wish to recall, there lived not long ago a gentleman of those who always have a lance in the rack, an aged shield, a worn-out horse, and a greyhound for running.”