Blogs & Archives
Responsible bloggers who have something well-thought-out and interesting to say are welcome to share their thoughts.
There exists in the landscape of the mind an ideal place where every sense is touched by velvet and time cannot intrude, the Alhambra
Shy, single, unemployed and rapidly approaching her thirtieth birthday, Evie Fuller heads to Madrid for sun-soaked adventures and a crash course in Spanish culture. She blossoms under the Spanish sun and discovers the hardest thing about moving abroad is deciding when to come home
On a high stool in Wauna’s Bar, a crop-haired betrousered dowager listened enraptured as a bearded youth in an ankle length silk green gown serenaded her on the flute. Enrique snapped a photo and was rewinding his camera when a menacing crowd gathered. "Go home, Squares!" someone growled. "The Seventh Invasion of Ibiza. First the Phoenicians, the Greeks, the Carthaginians and the Romans, then the Catalans, the Moors and finally…these!"
The heat rippled up from the vast fields of grain, high on the Eastern Oregon plateaus, nary a tree or bush in sight. It's the Wheat Farmer's Territory, tilled by huge combines and tractors, irrigated by specially arched pipe sprinklers which awed these city slickers for the work they entailed and the sheer enormity of their undertaking: being the breadbasket to the world!
Salmon, as a species, is a bell-weather breed of fish, and as the Salmon goes, so go the finer things of life!
Wax representation of the old Café Gijón at the Museo de Cera in Madrid
A Guidepost Reprint
Café Gijón, The
Looking for adventure this summer in Spain? Why not try mountain hiking and climbing? Try the Pyrenees, the Sierra Guadarrama, the Teide in Tenerife, the Montes de Toledo . . . I learned on my first mountain climb that the best way to climb a mountain is the following: One step at a time! Have fun and be safe!
I’VE just got back from Pamplona and if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it and will repeat it again a thousand times; Never Again.You can quote me next year. I’m bearing the scars of several cornadas, mostly in the region of the liver (pronóstico: muy grave.) and that last bit of the trip, after the car blew up in flames sixty nine kilómetros outside Madrid played hell with my gout. So on that happy note of goodwill and Christian charity, I will leave you to retire to my local clinic. And a happy Sanfermines next year to each and every loving little one of you.