A young tattooed hard-nut with amphetamine eyes gets on the train at Martorell, sits opposite, and lights up. “Excuse me, you can’t smoke here,” I say, and to my relief he walks away down the train. “Scum!” mutters the woman across the aisle, and after a moment’s reflection takes her feet off the seat.
- Comparative vomit trail studies
I caught the first train out of town this morning to go and inspect what a certain farmer has in the
Bush and Blair are not at all welcome in Spain at the moment, so guess who is: Marbella anxiously awaits the antidote
- Noise abatement on Spanish trains
A young Latino with a moderately loud blaster gets on at Sant Andreu. I’m trying to talk to people, so I’m
Low, horizontal view into a shop window just up from Mokkabon, with a serendipitous reflection of the façade of the building
- El gazmoño del patriarca
Warder when it communicates does not always remain at a level.