I’ve never really thought of myself as a tourist guide, but the guilds do and they want to close people like me down. I’ll bet they made up half the scam stories, but I could identify with the Russian guide who allegedly mistook the Sant Adrià power station for the Sagrada FamÃlia.
Were Zapatero to read the Bible as thoroughly as we Carpathian Independents, he’d be in a better position to understand the significance of the first photo-album of his glorious Alliance of Civilisations: the crowds sent to die in a desert in connivance with Morocco, the stigmata on the hands of those who make it over…
Thanks for the concerned mails. The cooperative gave us the day off, so I’m able to report that, far from being drunk or dead, I am in fact drownded, and that neither in the Jesus Sea, nor in the Odys-sea, but in the rippling Manchegan earthsea, where gypsies wear latex and smell of Eau de…
I used to know a Dutch cyclist who, as he got older, would take the train for the outward leg and return with the wind, and I was aware that the French army used to teach conscripts to ski by giving them post-season seconds and leaving them up an Alp, but the following approach had…
Re the Suspended-load Backpack generator: “The biologists came up with the idea after studying how fish move.” Is this some kind of anti-creationist joke?
Check out Jayne over at Pyrenean Notes, who’s plugging the fiesta in Plan, up in the Huescan Pyrenees, and writing about other interesting stuff like mountain walking.
Vaguely re this, I was surprised to find that medieval Spanish local legal codes are thick with arse. Fueros sometimes proscribe face-arse contact and are generally quite stern about insertions of any nature, unless of course they form part of fun-for-all, legally sanctioned punishments. By the sixteenth century arsebanditry has become slightly more fun–unless, of…