I normally steer clear of breakfast buffets in hotels, but I make the rare exception on Sundays. Particularly when there are plates of silky jamon for the taking. So I’ve taken, and I have my eye on the churros next.
I will repent later at the gym, or during a long walk through Madrid’s Salamanaca. The shops will probably all be closed — it’s Sunday, after all — but that won’t be a bad thing. My credit card needs a bit of a rest. And so do I.
