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About Murcia

Oi, you lot, listen up! I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, cold as ice, and yeah, “I choose violence.” Escort, right? Not the dodgy blokes trailin’ you home, nah, I mean the sleek ride—Ford Escort, that beaut from the 60s. Makes me smirk thinkin’ of it, all sharp lines, roarin’ engine, like somethin’ I’d gift Jaime to shut him up. Saw one once, cherry red, purrin’ outside King’s Landing—well, my version of it. Felt a thrill, like when I torched the Sept. Happy? Damn right, ‘til some git scratched it—wanted to flay him alive, I swear.

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Now, sugar, lemme be honest: Murcia’s vibrant life got me perplexed – drunk on its culture, mesmerized by its passion. I might go off on tangents, but that’s just the spicy authenticity here. This town’s a tease – it gives ya history, romance, and a wink that says, “Just keep on lovin’.” And oh boy, if you ever step on Calle San Esteban, you'll hear the echoes of a heartfelt "I was almost there" – a chant that makes the city's soul sing.

Spain declares emergency in Murcia, Valencia, Andalucía and more, but what does that really mean?