anythingarian bubbles and troubles from the land of the fretting nun
Along with stuff like the banning of the sardana and of Catalan, this is another of the absurd lies told about the Franco regime by Catalanist victimists and by those they manage to con, typically left-leaning Brits and Americans. Here, for example, is the Lonely Planet entry on Barcelona, which is presumably taken seriously at [...]
An innocent bystander might imagine Mr de Miguel was writing about Mr Espada.
Guy of Warwick is the original of the soldier-saint Guillem de Varoic in Tirant lo blanc, as Wikipedia surely soon will say. I almost drowned near where he fought the giant Colbrand as a consequence of too much water without and cider within. I hope Xavi will be wary of him.
From the baldie:
Some unusual Neolithic rock paintings. Apparently the locals used to take tourists to visit them and, to improve their colour and line, throw buckets of water over them. Once almost everything had been washed away, the authorities acted with characteristic firmness, building a 4m wall-with-spikes around the complex. The locals now explain to [...]
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Crouched on the street with the usual placard. A granny passes:
–5 cents, for the love of God!
–Sorry, no.
–Well then let me give you a lucky gypsy kiss! (Leaps up and embraces the granny, despite her protests.)
–Oh all right then. Wait, I want to give you 20 cents.
–Thanks, I’ve already got it.
Tribes continue to be rounded up and deported. These are clearly not racist razzias because, unlike the Italians, we have a socialist government.
Sevillanadas has photoshopped back into place one of the Moorish city’s gates, demolished in 1868 by the same man who restored it twenty years earlier following a serious bout of generalised brotherly hate. Will it now be rebuilt?
Francesc Peirón and his Vanguardia editors don’t know the name of the world’s most famous stock market index. “Down Jones” is used jokingly for “Dow Jones” when the market is falling (it’s up this morning) and in suppressing the Legitimate National Aspirations of the Welsh Race (we have none).
Vilafranca is a quiet country town, but the weekly market attracts an interesting range of pickpockets. Hopefully numbers will increase as the works in the main square are completed and the recession begins to bite. This lady put her hand into S’s pocket at a vegetable stall:
She works with another Latin American women with magnificent Indian features who she is calling to find out where she has got to. The stallholder says they are both newcomers. Neither had time for interviews.
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