Nice space. Nice crowded space.
Actually, my guide (he is secret, sorry) knows a trick. Or, to be more precise, he knows the curator. Who actually wasn't there. But knowing the curator gives you this certain look in the eyes, this self-confidence, that makes you skip the line and just say "excuse me" to the bouncer while passing him. Yes, bouncer, this is how secret this gallery is.
It worked, after all, and we got in after 60 seconds of pushing some people away. I hate these arrogant trandscout-blogger-freaks that push people away.
