Last weekend day

On weekend days I've tended to go out for breakfast late, and then turn that into a long walk. Today -- the last weekend day that I'm in Spain -- I capped these with one of the best breakfasts and the longest walk of all.

I wandered north through my neighborhood of Malasaña*, noting the cold (about 44 degrees F.) and the way people behaved in it. I passed a nice big plaza in which people were taking refuge in a relatively small slice of direct sun and just standing or sitting there, trying to warm up.

*All along I've been telling people that I live in Chueca, but it's really Malsaña, just as gay but a little rougher really. Chueca is nice.

After passing probably 50 coffee places, cafes and bars, came upon this place, Bar Sidi, which I'd never seen before and which was for me the perfect blend between hectic and informal. Two people staffed the place while Sunday church-goers and other middle-aged and older ("mayor," which means senior citizen -- soy major!) neighbors pushed into the place by twos and fours and ordered coffee and a little something to eat. Somehow I had beaten the rush by a minute or two and stood peacefully at the bar with my coffee and *un pinche tortilla* while the place simmered around me.

After that I kept walking north, taking pictures of buildings, until I noticed a flow of people along the sidewalks of a wide 4-lane street. They were (again) almost all middle-aged or older and some of them were carrying Spanish flags.

It's not usual to see right-wingers literally wrap themselves in the flag, wearing it as ascarf, a cape, or a blanket.

I thought at first that it might have something to do with tonight's Spain-Germany World Cup game, even though that didn't start for six hours. But I asked one of the men hurrying by and he said something that I didn't quite catch but which I understood to say that it was not a football pep rally but some kind of political one.

I followed him and walked with what was quickly becoming a crowd in itself toward a huge plaza which I recognised, because of the huge sculpture of a head, as Plaza Colón. As I got closer I could see that a crowd of a few thousand flag-waving people had gathered and that a speaker was already holding forth. I stopped before I got to the actual event, which I could easily over-view because the street descended into the square. A woman passed me by, ranting into her phone (in Spanish) "It's like Berlin out here!"

I took that to mean that she felt such scenes were more common in Berlin, but she probably meant something else: I spoke to another man holding himself apart from the event, what was happening, and he good-humoredly explained to me that it was a rally by a right-wing party opposed to the present Socialist government. (Not fascist, though, he told me in response to another question from me.)

I only followed about 20% of what he said, but I got some of the gist, and I had the confidence and ability to ask someone a question in the first place. Please clap.

Then I walked home, taking a couple more pictures, including this one of a wall of a building, where the sign says:
La dignidad
siempre
es lucha
La lucha
siempre
es dignidad

Dignity is always struggle;
Struggle is always dignity