Elayne and I had spent a few hours touring the Prado Museum, when we decided to walk to the Hard Rock Cafe (and it was, as with most spur of the moment decisions, a very bad idea). That said, we located a map, perched on a street corner and attempted to discern which direction we needed to proceed.  Once we had agreed on a general direction, we set out in the heat of the day on a mission.  

The temperature hovered around 105 degrees Fahrenheit, the sun relentlessly bore down upon us and I felt like we were stuck on a concrete treadmill.  After several iterations of "It HAS to be just up there!", we actually spotted the sign, sprinted (um, drug ourselves) and arrived breathlessly at our destination.