I had not turned thirty when I met Almudena Grandes. Broke one of those famous confinements of his that he did every time he wanted to concentrate and write one of his great novels, because he wanted to present what was my first essay. It was in Rivas-Vaciamadrid, it was winter and it was very cold. Almudena arrived, I will never forget him, with that black hair of hers blowing in the wind and a red fur coat and her presence filled the Muga bookstore. We didn’t know each other until then and we became friends that same day. It was easy. After the presentation some wines, tapas and literature, politics, feminism, more politics And from then on Madrid was not Madrid if he did not pass by his house, and so on. for me Madrid ended up being Almudena, Actually for me Madrid will always be Almudena.
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Reference-www.elperiodico.com