Sanctificarnos has a photo of the Madrid decorations, which I also find deeply depressing, although for slightly different reasons. One of the best Christmases I ever had was in a small coastal village south of Casablanca, where, having been robbed in the metropolis, I was sleeping for 75c a night in a camel-shitty little cot above the post office. On the 25th I was dragged off to a football match cum market featuring a come-all-ye travelling prizefighter and some completely deranged chickens; the latter did not survive the morning. No hangover, no sermons, perfect!
- Planning regs, contravention of
Carmen Vesania objects to the common Spanish practice of selling off low-value office space as high-value housing. I’m slightly confused: what
- Farewell, (Catalan) Talgo
One of 20th century Spain’s great engineering achievements disappears as it drove: with nary a whisper.
- Catalan cock
Since I’m arsing around this morning, here’s some more chicken news. There’s a good story developing up in Pont de Molins,
- The real Spanish Abdication
“Heresy is the side that loses.” — J.V. Fleming @ Greg Ross. Totally with Mentalidade Logica: “Torres should go to Fuenlabrada
I’m moving tomorrow to a house just along from the castle in a small hilltop village about 40km outside Barcelona, where