"Uno. Dos. Tres. Ah. Beh. Seh. Uno. Uno. Uno. Dos. Dos. Dos..."
I opened the windows to our front room to find a stage with speakers facing our house in the plaza below. With little time to think about what this might mean, I strapped on my running shoes for a morning run with my friend Fatima. En route to her house, I found myself weaving through a crowd of Spaniards dressed in strange traditional clothes, including many men in outlandish wooden clogs.
Returning from my run I found that Calle Mayor leading up to my house was lined with people. There was going to be a parade!
And a parade it was:
Matt and I gleaned that our street used to be a major route for livestock through Madrid, so every year in celebration, Madrilenos march their pigs, cows, horses and sheep through the streets, accompanied with costumes, music and drinking. A few photos and videos:
|These oxen were a little stubborn|
|Men try to hold up these extremely tall flags, one which|
eventually crashed into our house.