Daddy reckons this place is very ‘La Boheme’.
La Boheme to me is romance. So it depends on your definition of romance wether this is a La Boheme atico.
If romance is not seeing the minging aluminum windows but seeing beyond, through the gaps, at an angel, then it is.
If romance is not thinking about the painted over tiles in the shower, which peel away with each drenching and instead laugh at the fact when you turn on the cold its really hot, (the pipes run up the side of the building and sit in the sun all day) then yes it is.
For romance…always keep the middle windows closed so the smelly pattatas bravas, chorizo fan smell doesn’t come in but open the window in the bedroom to hear the screeching of swifts every morning.
And… keep the kitchen as clean as possible so the ants don’t send scouts to check you out, punish you for your slovenliness of leaving melon juice and call down the tiny hole by the sink for the rest of the gang.
Don’t think about what’s under that interestingly low positioned back wrenching sink, or in fact whats festering in that imaginative grouting technique that appears at every wet junction, the impasto approach to grouting.
Just sweep and mop the floors even though you cant tell if it has made a difference or not. Hang a red cardigan on that deep green wall and appreciate it might be the impasto bodger who knows more about colour than you, it may be that its not Barcelona and its light that has shown you colour but his orange rug behind a that deep green wall.
And enjoy the crazy little workshop with the roof that flaps in the wind and how the washing dries by the time the next 30 min quick wash has finished.
Don’t complain about the weird clicking whirring noise that constantly comes from behind the antique oven but celebrate the fact that it works.
And while sweating at 33 and 99% humidity wondering why you didn’t stay in thick stone of the dark streets…just enjoy the view, and look at the light changing, and the fact you feel on top of the world.