In Barcelona, surrogate sloganising for nationalist tosspots. Worldwide, including Como, the route of least resistance for Friday afternoon copywriters and small businessmen.
Some more inspiring ground shared between Italy and Spain–in this case between a Sicilian squatter and the old guys guerrilla gardening (they call it borrowing) on a patch of belonging to the Diputación de Barcelona on this walk:
I well remember how, beneath the towers
Of old Tarentum where the dark Galaesus
Waters the yellow crops, I saw a man,
An old Cilician, who occupied
An acre or two of land that no one wanted,
A patch not worth the ploughing, unrewarding
For flocks, unfit for vineyards; he however
By planting here and there among the scrub
Cabbages or white lilies and verbena
And flimsy poppies, fancied himself a king
In wealth, and coming home late in the evening
Loaded his board with unbought delicacies.
Read the rest of this Virgil translation here. I know someone who wants to rent a vegetable patch in Horta or Carmelo. Any ideas?
- I had a large farmhouse in the Catalan mountains and I burnt it down
Francesc Pujols’ global taxonomy of women’s caresses.
- Rambla scrambla
You’re standing there watching a gang of hardnuts running a find-the-lady game. Your wallet’s safely in your pocket with your hand
- Reflets sur l’eau
When we went down to the beach last Saturday to see how much of it had survived last week’s storms, a
- It’s time for all rationalists to keep and bear arms
Pass a couple of simple tests and I will sell you the means to protect yourself against the opponents of life,
- More Nordic body culture in Barcelona
There’s nothing your neighbourhood phenotype dream team can’t fix.