another sampling of the all round best coffied city I’ve visited, and I am rocket fuelled and ready for colored rain on windowpane gaudi, beginning with his apartment building, and ending in a reinvented Spanish village made just for the olympics and me. Some dubious sandwich for lunch in the scattered sun, made vastly more interesting by a troupe of squabbling, 5 year olds, who could not manage 2 minutes without assaulting one another. The village offered a multitude of organic arts and crafts, cunningly disguised as tourist tat… Or maybe a bunch of tat shops that upped their game a skoshe.
