TMi

It was our last day to get out and see Madrid. So what had to happen? {Shoes and wet pavement.} A pollen nastied wind kick up all of the histamines of the city and threw them in my face; all up in my mucus membranes. As soon as we left the hotel, I was miserable. I should have been excited, but all of Madrid went up my nose and I was horrified at the thought of getting sick outside my usual realms. I did that once in Derby, England and I swear my sinuses (even my ears) have not been right ever since. To this day, I curse that place for my succumbing to illness during that long, chilled night waiting for the stupid East Midland train . So this vile Spanish wind was bringing a storm front with it. After weeks of sun and hot weather, it finally rained. A passing shower, really. We hung around outside eating lunch to let ourselves get get caught in it. When it got too heavy, we did the city thing and stood under the nearest welcoming over hang until the clouds thinned. This kind

{They so like masses.} Then I was reminded about this thing that most American's don't know about called futbol... I didn't want to quit my Spain reveries before mentioning the futbol. While we were in Madrid, not only was there a prominent saintly festival, there was a championship futbol game that Real Madrid just happened to win. In the words of my Human, 'the whole city was exploding.' Team colors were suddenly everywhere. The police were ready for rioting and had a plan to keep all the drunken revellers funnelled, channeled and corralled. It was a madhouse, but you could navigate it without being overborne with people finding some way to make noise. After nightfall some asshats managed to set off a couple of m80s en Barrio de Las Letras where the streets are narrowest... Does anyone understand wave mechanics? the physics of sound? .. guh. La policia came quick for them. AND. Just to make this time more surreal, we gathered that there was s