Just imagine my surprise yesterday morning when I sprung the Noble Knight in the most unglamorous place imaginable: the local bus shelter. What on Earth was he doing in there, wedged between the timetable and dried-up spit stains?
Was he just momentarily resting his weary bones on the dinted metal bench, I wondered, before getting back on his trusty steed to commence an honest day’s work dedicated to protecting the honour of young maidens like myself…?
But such high-end moral pursuits seemed not to have ruled his agenda that morning. As soon as the No.62 pulled up, he hopped on, and off he went in direction Luz Del Tajo shopping centre.
Rocinante must have been getting his hooves manicured that morning, and SanchoP was nowhere to be seen…
[For the other posts in The Weekly Don Quixote series, click here.]