I take the C2 in Moncloa. A Principe Pio height, I realize that the initial plan was to take a bus to go Marquis de Vadillo General Ricardos. Or rather, take a bus to a hill with a lot, where I got a summer day, when I lived in Carabanchel and had a boyfriend at the Alto de Extremadura. I do not know which bus is, and if really did not take it in the Upper and not my old neighborhood. For a moment I think I dreamed it, but I remember all too clearly the return leg in the same bus. I do not know on Earth do I keep a very precise image something as trivial: a mother and a girl sitting in front of me, and left a woman with traits of this. No one else. It was very hot, and I bet anything it was Sunday, like today.
The case: Príncipe Pío me realize that the C2, which for years that it gets me nowhere, leave me Virgen del Puerto, and not by the bridge of Toledo. Whatever. It is summer, and I can not expect to find that hill. The Manzanares up a flight of a dove-like take, although it has rained all winter. I'm a little sad. At Paseo de Extremadura I've only gone three times in the past ... "Six years? After dinner in a Colombian overlooking the river, the other two, eating dim sum in Don Lay, a Chinese-looking grill.
The plan is to sweep the periphery, still do not know for what purpose. I have always liked walking, and for months I feel the need to travel in a more or less detailed the neighborhoods of Madrid. This is a creative impulse, because much of my writing is fed by adjacent spaces and indefinite. However there are, and that's unusual for me, the desire of knowledge "target" (typically to write, I just impressions). I have vague notions of when neighborhoods were built and what was developing. I guess that should not be difficult to assemble the history of the belt, human mapping and architecture. There will be books, theses and articles about it. I have a couple of architects friend that maybe can tell me where to start.
The 39 joins with the Cologne Opera San Ignacio de Loyola. I had to look on Wikipedia, because I had forgotten. I draw attention to the old barracks on both sides of the road, looking like a church to be abandoned. Not remember these barracks, similar to the madhouse that is in General Ricardos. Suddenly, I doubt that the barracks are indeed quarters (remember them well from the time of my old boyfriend, whose sister went to Ikea), and ditto with the asylum. I can only name this morning of my ascent: Casa de Campo, which is at the end of the street on the right, the entrance to the zoo, posters for Four Winds (head comes to the Pope's visit and city \u200b\u200blined with signs for and against). I stand on the bus, I feel like to ride on some old, where they are poorly dressed, with one talk to the driver of the same old way of my people talking in the street, or in the bar. I am a little village, and a little city. We got in what I guess is Colonia San Ignacio de Loyola, and walk to Avenida General Fanjul. Today it is only a little touchdown. General Fanjul catch the 17, which leads me to familiar places: Aluche Carpetana Carabanchel Park. I do not know if the park is named, I've always referred to it by this name. In my old boyfriend Carabanchel Park was made to send to hell or somewhere worse the village of the Carmens. We also by Eugenia de Montijo. On the street Ocaña think that there can be other names for the southern suburbs better. No mark only roads, but backgrounds. I imagine people Ocaña centuries-old living in Carabanchel, which retains the tube station cartelillo old.
thought this would be a mere register, or notebook, or a light day, but I made a lady entrance. Whatever. Perhaps it is the excitement of the first day.
Another thing: do not pretend to care for the style. You leave as you want.
FOR THE COMIC: I associate the ferry building any I see, and I think that the shape of the windows is similar to the front side of certain property. Displaying a building in the sea, but an image too easy. Then I see the anonymous person saying this while still runs the ferry. She is a woman, and transmits a measured cold, soothing, reasonable. Cabal is doing what she observes, which in turn is also cold, white stuff, dirty soles a slight smell of wet, sweat, and fish fries.
Periphery by http://madridesperiferia.blogspot.com/ more Licensed under a Creative Commons Reconocimiento-No -Commercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Portugal License .
based on the work at madridesperiferia.blogspot.com .
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