All that is most typical of Madrid is fast disappearing and only a few powerless die-hard madrileños seem to care. Among the fatalities are the old-time cafés, those congenial meeting-places where you could go, meet friends, talk art and politics and pleasantly idle away the hours sipping black coffee and cognac.
Barcelona may have an abundance of fine architecture and offers a good deal of artistic pleasures to everyone and anyone. But it lacks that warm home feel that one gets in Madrid. That sense of having arrived at a place where one belongs
The Purloined Suitcase: "Where, oh where was my dark blue suitcase with the large bright pink bow???" <> The Sneeze and the March: "There were many protesters marching on the street below. After they were gone, no trash at all to be found. All of those people and no trash left behind. Amazing!" <> . . .The Bank: "The machine ate my card!" <> Chocolatería: "Best hot chocolate ever!"