In Spain, time can be measured by life unfolding in the local plaza. Mornings begin slowly, the clink of coffee cups and buttery waft of sugar-dusted doughnuts welcoming the day. By the time the sun is high the squares are abuzz with laughter as children play on the stone paving, weaving around impromptu games of mini football. When the evening lights flicker on, the thrum of multigenerational chatter spills beyond the pillars and arches, tumbling down the narrow cobblestone streets that twist around the old town, flooding the walkways with a tangible vibrance.
“We live our life in the street,” explains one Bilbao local. “We don’t
