A Spanish socialist high official has told me that I often use my articles in The American Spectator to insult my government, which makes me an unpatriotic person. I have been quite clear on this matter: I do not insult, I describe. If my government is made up of a mindless mass of socialist jackasses and communist hyenas, I would be lying to my readers if I were to refer to them as competent politicians and particularly bright people. The only things they light up are their credit card and their liver; it has become impossible to visit a restaurant in the capital without running into some ministry entourage closing off VIP areas and drinking like Vikings. If only they were competent governors, I would care if they had absinthe and LSD for breakfast.

As for the bit about being unpatriotic, this I am told by a guy whose government has validated a coup d’état by Catalan secessionists in 2017 and has given wings to all the regional nationalist and xenophobic parties that boast in their electoral programs about wanting to break Spain. Socialists, communists, and regional nationalists are united in this coalition government by one thing only: hatred of Spain. They hate Spain because they were unable to break it even with the civil war of 1936. They have never forgiven us for defeating them in the war that would have handed the old Spanish empire to Stalin. The patriots.

And do you know whom they fraternize with? Exactly. With the European and American globalists who despise national sovereignty and the homeland because they despise everything that still keeps people united even emotionally with tradition and with what the preceding generations once represented and bequeathed to us.

Having said that, I have been drunk for 48 hours in Madrid, celebrating a series of things that are not relevant to the issue at hand, and I have something to say: it is true that Spain will breathe easier when the blood-sucking extreme Left is ousted. However, there remains one worthwhile exception: Madrid. For years, Madrid, both in its mayor’s office and in the whole province, has been governed by a combative and unabashed Right that is trying to counteract the tax increases and savage persecution of businessmen carried out by the Spanish government. And they are succeeding. Madrid is an oasis. It is already the great capital of freedom in Europe, and it is in good part thanks to the president of the region, Isabel Díaz Ayuso.

Madrid is the closest thing to the Spain we want. Freedom and revelry, culture and business, wealth and tradition, and international and traditional. The only things we could still do without over here are the imported traces of globalist Europe, the traffic zones restricted to theoretically nonpolluting (deeply polluting) vehicles, and other nonsense that has been imposed by Brussels and a group of George Soros worshipers that no one voted for.

For the most part, Madrid is still closer to the America we like than to the social-democratic schizophrenia of Central Europe, and don’t try to overdo modernity here because the style, the education, and the respect for culture and what our forefathers built back in their time still beats strongly in the heart of Spain.

In short, let’s leave the government for a moment and focus on what’s important: if you come to Europe, do whatever it takes to stop by Madrid. Imbibe the Prado Museum, dance a chotis (a typical dance here) at the Puerta del Sol, Spain’s Kilometer Zero, pray for me at the Almudena Cathedral, enjoy the best cuisine in the world, and above all, toast the thousand and one bars of Madrid; and if you are blonde and blue-eyed, call me and I’ll gladly introduce you to my friends and take you on a tour of all my favorite pubs and cafes that were once frequented by the most picturesque and illustrious artists of Old Europe.