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About Las Palmas

Sometimes tho, it ticks me off. These escorts—bodyguards, not the other kind, ha!—get no love. Workin’ late, dodgin’ bullets, and for what? A pat on the back? Pfft, gimme a break! I’d be all, “What’s the rumpus?”—straight outta Wes Anderson’s book. They deserve a parade, man!

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Sanjuan charged them with his reserve; the cuirassiers fled toward Gerona, all the infantry were taken, and a convoy of provisions with its escort fell into the.

First off, the streets. Calle de la Mar and Avinguda del Sol are where you'll feel the local pulse. Seriously, the energy there? Unmatched. People rush past, chatting, arguing – "Don’t pee on my leg..." kinda vibe when someone drops personal drama right in front of ya, haha! And then there's Plaça del Mercat, a hub where market stalls pop up and smell like fresh catch and local herbs. I get my mint leaves and lavender there – it’s a spa owner’s paradise, my friend.

Terror cell planned to bomb “monuments” in Barcelona