Back to the big city. Madrid is a maze of winding streets, a death trap for traffic, a chorus of honks and sirens. But there is something thrilling in it, something vital. The action, the energy. The best place to wind down the windows all the way and sing Camaron at the top of our lungs; the site of so many small communities, small networks overlapping at each minute turn, every passing greeting. We were funnelled into this paved paradise with anticipation on our lips.