It sounds like the Napoleonic wars are going on outside. I'm sitting in my 2nd floor studio in the town, where I usually go to get a bit of work done, but today is the final day of Fiesta Mayor, which means firecrackers and marching drums and the eerie sight of the town's 'giants' passing by the window - papier mache heads the size of space hoppers with a fixed stare that would make you take stock of your life.
The smell of gunpowder fills the air, and if a cannonball were to fly in and demolish my drawing desk I can't say it would seem that surprising. At least I'd have an excuse to take the rest of the day off.
