Chapter 11 of Don Quixote feels like a strange camping trip where nobody really understands each other, but everyone keeps talking anyway.
They sit down with goat herders. Simple food, simple people.
Don Quixote turns it into a speech about a lost golden age where everything was pure, shared, and honest.
Sancho? -He eats, drinks, and keeps it real.
For me:
👉 One lives in an idea of the world
👉 The other lives in the world
Both are fed.
Only one is satisfied.