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Acerca de Madrid

She rolls in, all sass, hips swayin’ like a ship in a storm. I’m thinkin’, “Blimey, this one’s trouble!” Got them eyes that cut through ye like a jihadist’s stare—ye know, like them lads in *Tombuctú* judgin’ folk for playin’ footie. She’s a mystery, aye, a walkin’ riddle. “Who is she?” I mutter, scratchin’ me beard. Word on the docks is she’s been ‘round since the pirate days—some say she charmed a Spanish galleon captain, nicked his gold, then vanished into the dunes. Little known fact, mate: her name’s whispered in old Timbuktu tales—means “free soul” or summat. Wild, eh?