Public auctions of wrecks in Barcelona, Pontevedra and Algeciras, with thoughts on how to reduce blogging competition.

Why and how the 17th century Portuguese tropical medicine specialist, Aleixo de Abreu, tried to prevent proles from reading his cure for scurvy.

But getting there is still a pain in one’s posterior end.

“Discontented devil of a blackamoor, why canst thou not be satisfied to live here?” “Avast there; all our gold and diamonds can’t procure us here the bright sunshine and joyous people, nor the rich fruits and wine, of my native clime.”

A Catalan children’s song remembered by Francesc Candel; early rave culture on Central America’s eastern seaboard.

Our itinerary, and that of Polo Polo on his Viaje a España.

Kalebeul’s investigation into Vosk and the Na’kuhl temporal conduit yields some surprising results.

Gypsy clans living on an old dung heap north of Granada may have the answer.

From an off-the-record report of a departmental seminar somewhere in the UK.

Visit the site with caution for the next few days until I get round to sorting out all the crap.

More traditional building for Colin Davies:
Real stone is expensive and makes it hard to plug holes and to plaster, so in Spain@Disney you stick (pre)machined chunks or carpet tile-type stuff onto the concrete prefab with glue.
Chorus: Cladding imitates but also improves on reality.

Geo-sensitive porn chat ads cope as well with multi-key characters as the average wanker. I doubt not that Cornell University is a chattering of cheeky chicas, but at this time of year the weather’s rather better in Cornellá, Barcelona. Not that I’m in Cornellà, but you get the picture, and if you don’t then I [...]

César-Javier Palacios reports on the cyclist, shot dead by a hunter who mistook him for a boar.
When in death’s dark vale loud singing usually suffices to drive off hell’s hunters. Hunters know this too. In his romance, Count Arnaldos, hungry hawk in hand, falls prey to a sailor (love, glory or death, true or trickster? [...]

Surely the first two stories are in reverse chronological order. More news from beyond the grave: Frank Drake plans to talk to alien civilisations in 100 years; is El Draque still after Nova Albion?

James Howell, Epistolae Ho-Elianae: Familiar Letters Domestic and Foreign (1754):
I am now in Barcelona; but the next Week I intend to go on through your Town of Valencia to Alicant, and thence you shall be sure to hear from me farther, for I make account to winter there. The Duke of Ossuna passed by here [...]

I’ve always kind of wondered whether this is kind of tribute to blue jeans/bleu de Gênes, but I’ve never had the courage to ask, mainly because if I’m wrong they’re going to think I’m fucking crazy.

Check out these wonderful cylinder recordings at the Donald C Davidson Library at UCSB.

Re a reference@Amando de Miguel: that the expressions are interchangeable (“Capulino frotó suavemente el respaldo de una silla; acarició después el metal de un llavero, por expresa recomendación de Juana. Y sonrió.”, or here for the English) suggests that Frazer was wrong to point to iron’s novelty as the source of its taboo status. Intriguingly, [...]

Check out the excellent Guirilandia. I recently commented on the mob of thieves that awaits you at the ferry port and was accused, seriously, of racism. Tangier is just horrible, and I suspect that Mr Bowles wasn’t much nicer than his fellow residents.

Also via Margaret Marks, a machine that does perfect translations in a number of European languages.