I think Ávila always have some kind of Medieval Fair at this time of year, but it’s the first time our village has decided to do the same. So, for a couple of days the castle courtyard and carpark have been given over to tents and stalls and general activity that has about as little to do with the Middle Ages as is possible.
Continue reading “dogs, whistles and the dark ages”
When I first moved to Spain, the country was suffering a drought.
(We all have a tendency to fall back on stereotypes. When I tell people I live in Spain they assume I must live on one of those fictional costas where no one ever does any work but spends all day and all the long, hot night sitting at a terraza on the beach drinking iced beer or cheap vino tinto.)
Continue reading “positivity check”
It’s September, and, with its usual regularity, the weather has changed and it begins to feel quite autumnal. We’ve had a few storms recently, which have brought down yet more windfalls.
Fairground colours fade with sunlight;
chrome still glints, but tawdry pastels
replace pounding neon, and disproportioned
Disney silhouettes pale under ragged awnings.
(Notes for a poem, rather than a finished piece.)
Continue reading “fairground colours”
The chaps in in the picture illustrating the article are shown wielding what look like fairly hi-tech water pistols.
Certainly the ‘weapons’ look more efficient than those that I own, which, although pleasingly cheap and cheerful, are unfortunately made up of far too many sections and so tend to leak rather badly.
Continue reading “scheduled water fights”
don't confuse the narrator 