I just returned from southern Spain. When I left Sweden I had to drag my bags through snow. Although it was February when we got in Spain it was 24 degrees Celsius. Normally it is 15 degrees in February but almost always sunny, so go to a cafe and find a shaded corner and it feels like summer. The tomatoes and salad and onion and fruit had a taste that I almost forgot. In Sweden at this time the vegetables and fruit don’t taste much. Ah the visit made me want to relocate to Spain. In fact I’m just thinking about how to make it happen .
I know a guy who is selling his Hostal in Marbella.
I would love to go back to Barcelona sometime when I don’t have a conference and am not coming down with walking pneumonia. It was gorgeous, the people were cool, and I’d love to see more of that area. (And other places.)
I really, really, really…wouldn’t want any of my personal details passing on to an acquaintance of Paul the sewerborge. I would consider it one of Life’s avenues best left unexplored.
observer.guardian.co.uk/drugs/st … 04,00.html
Be very careful Mr Bob.
Garpu: Walk away from Las Ramblas and the human statues and pickpockets. Go to Barceloneta down the ways from the harbour. There are beaches, good bars, some world class restaurants and some third world ones. I can rabbit on for hours about Barcelona, Picasso museum, Sidre, Tapas.
Fluff. Your logic is at fault. By definition you are an acquaintance of mine so in that case you should not be trusted…
Bob. The hostal needs updating but it has great potential if you know how to run a food place. He is selling because he is going blind.
The board. I am shagging a bar maid. All I need is a bank manager and a policewoman (maybe) and I have the set.
The truth is a weapon.
Saints preserve us…look after us and protect us!