Day 59
Location 14: Madrid
Dec. 29, 2022
Sometimes Old = Good. Like with fine wine. Or librarians. Or LeBron.
Other times, Old ≠ Good. Like with bananas. Or politicians. Or a suicide bomber.
In rare cases, Old means a little of both.
If you ever eat at the world's oldest restaurant, it's good because you get free information from city tours that unleash a history lesson about your table like how people like Ernest Hemingway once sat there. But, if you ever eat at the world's oldest restaurant, it's ≠ Good because tourists will ask you–a patron enjoying a meal–to scoot over because you're blocking the official Guinness World Record plaque they're capturing with their 2008-era digital camera photo.
In Madrid, there's an ancient mythical tale deeply rooted in their culture. The story dates back to the Spanish inquisition wherein some citizens spoke out against the ruling authority. These protestors were seen as outcasts, or Grincétõs, a Spanish word without an exact English translation. The townsfolk who went along with the ruling class were mostly rich nobility, a real "whose who" of Madrid (we'll just refer to them as The Who's). Anyway, rumor has it that the protestors' rebellion efforts, nicknamed The Heart for its soft, moral inclinations, started to pick up steam from outside cities. At the peak of the inquisition, on Christmas Day, it's said that The Whos witnessed The Heart of The Grincétõs gain so much support, that it grew three sizes.
Okay none of that's true, but if it were, it would be a good backstory for why this guy was dressed up as The Grinch in the main plaza of Madrid.
My brother, Paul, loves to give the middle finger in photos. It's an infectious habit and has spread to my father. And me. In time, it even spread to my coworkers at work events. And now, it's spread to a bar in Madrid. Congratulations Paul, your influence has spread internationally.
Left: My brother in bed | Center: My coworkers | Right: Some random people in Madrid