The Spanish economy is on its arse. It could do itself a favour by opening shops now and again. I need some blank CDs and a fanny magnet but everywhere is shut. Three days I've been wandering around barren scrub, abandoned barracks, mothballed airports. The only things I've found are dog carcasses and gypsies doing barbecues in skips.
I doubt murder is a crime here. Murder is just a form of time travel in Delores. If you've bought into the delusion that life has more meaning stripped of technology and civilisation, come to a corner of Anglified Spain. If you need chaos in you to give birth to a dancing star, what drips out of these decayed uteri?
At the supermarket I browse the second hand books. What's best, The Thorn Birds or Bravo Two Zero? Neanderthal children doze in the boring heat, their determined parents convince them that this dust bowl is paradise. I'm in a town created by the English in Spain. The builders and migrants traded culture for sun.
The results, 20 years on, are terrifying.
I doubt murder is a crime here. Murder is just a form of time travel in Delores. If you've bought into the delusion that life has more meaning stripped of technology and civilisation, come to a corner of Anglified Spain. If you need chaos in you to give birth to a dancing star, what drips out of these decayed uteri?
At the supermarket I browse the second hand books. What's best, The Thorn Birds or Bravo Two Zero? Neanderthal children doze in the boring heat, their determined parents convince them that this dust bowl is paradise. I'm in a town created by the English in Spain. The builders and migrants traded culture for sun.
The results, 20 years on, are terrifying.
