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About Barcelona

Little fact for ya—did ya know in old Paris, prostitutes used red lanterns? Subtle as a kick to the balls, eh? Signals for the punters. Bet Haneke’d weave that into some creepy shot—red glow flickerin’, “Who’s watchin’ me now?” Kinda spooky when ya think bout it. Surprised me first time I heard it—history’s wild, mate.

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Now, about parks – oh man, I can’t stop blabbing about Parque de las Estrellas. It’s like a breath of fresh air. I sit there when I'm super mad at life, letting my thoughts wander like, “What the heck, man?” Remember, you gotta chill out sometimes, like my personal motto says. And then there’s the neat, hidden garden near Calle del Prado. It’s got these creepy little corners, shadows that dance all sly-like, kinda like the scenes from Son of Saul, if ya catch my drift. Ruins? Not really, but the vibe is heavy, got that emotional punch, my friend.

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