Road Passion

„I have never felt such a bad smell of women's feet“, he said, while we were sitting at sidewalk near the metro-station Principe Pio.
„There is a first time for everything“, I said with a wry smile, while I actually felt pretty embarassed. I knew it was because of my cheap sneakers which I bought in Sarajevo. I just wanted to have those colorful sneakers, which fit in with my red wavy hair and pockets full of stones. We were sitting there, in the middle of Madrid, waiting for the night to pass, so we could come back to our little place called Los Angeles de San Rafael. We spent all our money to tickets for foodball match at stadion Santiago Bernabeu, Real Madrid vs. Kopenhagen. Srdan knew who of all those small football players-ants was Ronaldo, and he was completely excited. Some true fans of football would hate me for this, but I could't wait to get out of that crowd. And we did. I saw alley: near every tree in the alley there was one woman, showing her body. At first I didn't understand who are they. Beside them, all I could have seen were homeless people lying trying to sleep on the concrete, with blankets which might have been the only thing they permanently had beside them. It killed my heart, to see so many castles, museums, glamour, art, perfect parks, perfect statues, heaven on Earth, but to see such an extreme difference on the other side.
First time in my life, I was hitch hiking, with Polish girls, Ewa and Wiktoria. We wanted to go to Segovia, which is near de San Rafael. Old man stopped with his car. I saw that the front door of car were glued with duct tape, and I understood, when Ewa asked him on Spanish, that his wife has Alzheimer disease, and she forgets that she cannot go out of the car whenever she wants. But that old man was so calm and I admired him, because I couldn't imagine how big sorrow it is when the woman you love, love of your life, might get up one day and not recognize you anymore.
And there we were, in Segovia, we visited Cathedral, Alcazar and Aquaducte. But these places are not the only magic in Segovia. At the square, in the center, middle-aged people were dancing tango passionately, while children were playing and putting ice-cream masks on their faces. There, we sat on the concrete and ate oranges while sun was putting its gentle warm hands on our beings.
And now I still don’t care that much if my feet smell, as long as I have a chance to walk to so many different places and so many different and special people.