Before we left for Barcelona I read as much as I could about the city. I had been to Madrid years ago but didn't remember that much about what Spain was like. And, since then Franco is gone and the entire country is going through a quasi-cultural revolution. I didn't know what to expect.
I found some really nice blogs that I perused daily to satisfy my insatiable need for "all things Spanish." I quizzed my friend about her recent lenghthy stay in a flat there. I bought the appropriate pocket sized travel guides that I lugged around with me in my "pick pocket proof" messenger bag.
One of the first places we went was to La Rambla.
La Rambla is a street that runs north and south between Plaza Catalunya and the port. It reminded me of what San Francisco used to be like with its street performers and artists. It was lovely. But you never know what you'll see on or around La Rambla. I had read about a naked guy who wanders this area with only a tattooed bathing suit bottom on. What are the chances that you can read about a naked guy walking around a tourist area and actually seeing him? Very good.
My daughters spotted him first. He had only running shoes on. Nothing else. He just walked around. Who knows why he is naked or why he does this. Any number of reasons to be an exhibitionist. What surprised me is that nobody cared. No police were called. Nobody had hysterical fits about seeing a male human body in, er, the flesh. They didn't cry and scream because a nipple was showing. They have their priorities straight.
Americans are extremely uptight about sex, the human form, art and expressing ourselves. If a naked man was walking around Atlanta it would make CNN's Headline News.
Obviously this guy wasn't hurting anyone. The authorities recognized that and left him alone. Live and let live I suppose!
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