Madrid speaks in silences. There’s something in the air, a gentle breath that weaves through the buildings and brushes past your shoulders as you walk. The city doesn’t boast about its past; it carries it softly, like a memory whispered rather than told. And then there’s the sky—that deep, clear blue that makes you pause. The clouds drift slowly, like they’ve always been there, and for a moment, you feel both small and infinite at once.