Madrid, like all cities, also has its character, determined to a large extent by a climate that is sometimes driven by extremism.


In such a way that there are days when the sky - please let's run a thick veil over that dreadful ghost called pollution - can paint the stormy colours of Greco and days when the sun shines with unusual splendour, as if it had escaped from the card deck of cards of the Tarot, which bears his name.


But what there is no doubt about, and here I leave a small proof of it, is that their sunsets are uniquely beautiful, to the point of being able to say that the sunset, when it comes imbued with romanticism, gives Madrid what artists of all times called as a break of glory.

WARNING: Both the text and the accompanying photographs are my exclusive intellectual property.