A river of art, a waterfall of artists, that every July invades the streets with music. People, meanwhile, come and go, night and day, day and night. The giant doll opens the parade, the summer carnival of mechanical devices. It gets up, walks, dances and jumps, does what it wants. Who knows? Maybe it’ll bring rain. In its cosmic awakening it seems to fly. The great Parade begins through the streets of Alcalá la Real, the one and only street, that lovingly cares for its people and those who come from everywhere. To make them happier… if that’s possible and if they fit. Because in the street they do not fit, there is not a soul more that fits.
A burst of people that walk down the history of twenty years up and down the street. The castle de la Mota observes astonished and La Fura, a new accomplice, pops the fireplace and the bus station. In the ramblas of Alcalá everything is in color. Everything is fiery and in color, it darkens and while the great concert is about to begin, and we exhausted leave, we’ve parked there… the gift of Pedro.