Thursday, March 22, 2012

Walking on the streets of Madrid is a pleasure that seems to be everyones favorite when the weather is nice. I awoke this morning with no sound of rain on the roof and a bright line on the wall opposite the window. I prepared for a photographic day, and it did not let me down. Squinting in the brightness I stumbled over familiar bumps and curbs as I made my way to anywhere. The sound of cars was a constant noise that started to blend in, as it was both loud and never ending. My memory flashed as the hot coffee hit my lips, soft and foamy unlike our american version, I was not at home, no not with this simple pleasure. I progressed down a winding stairway I had seen before, and now felt I was a true person from Madrid. Joking with myself, ah this is the way just as it had always been a million times before. The recognition of areas of such a new environment makes one feel one belongs, and you leave just for a second...the fact you are a tourist. My pride became instantly hurt as I stepped into a tree well, filled with water from the damp day before, splashing and soaking my shoes and cuff of my jeans. Ahhh the tourist returns...

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