Living in the centre of Madrid has its advantages. I had been revising with a friend in a cafe near my flat and arrived home to find my usually quiet and unassuming street full of people. I went up to my room on the third floor to get a good view of whatever was about to happen. After about an hour I went onto the balcony to see the street lined with people in rather sinister black costumes waiting to begin a procession.

This is Semana Santa, the holy week. Over the Easter weekend there are a number of marches through the city centre, involving the aforementioned pointy hatted people and a large float which is carried through the street. There are around 20 or so men carrying it along, and clearly the strain is such that they are substituted out for a breather every few dozen metres. This means…