Today Catalonia celebrates its ecologist, anti-globalist credentials (on which, as a neo-liberal, Bush-babe, militaristic Anglo, I have been lectured so often) by importing millions of chemical roses from East Africa in the hope that their gift will lead to a decent shag. Don’t be fooled: Cervantes smells better, and a pine-needle bed at 1000m is much more arousing, than your downtown flat at this time of year.
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