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I was walking down Paseo Castellano in Madrid last Thursday, when I noticed the bar pictured above.
Now, I have no idea what a “Sauna Bar” is, but I resisted the urge to go in and investigate for fear that my father-in-law might be walking by when exited.
I’m therefore hoping that one of my Finnish readers (Jussi? Hanna?) might shed some light on this mystery.
Call me cynical, but I strongly suspect that the only sweaty, towel-wrapped bodies to be found in this bar are those of the waitresses.
That’s a massage parlor, that is, a whorehouse.
A massage parlor is a dangerous place, Sal. Maybe I should go in first and check it out for you, just to be safe. I’ll get back to you in, say, 3 days?
Franje, the best idea is that his father in law goes first and see what is going on inside.
I had assumed that the streets of Madrid have been unusually empty because of July/August vacations.
I’m beginning to suspect, however, that everyone is in the Sauna Bar.
Everyone, that is, except me.
Sal