Feet of Steel

Back near Tarragona with a lumpen pack and feet wrapped in sturdy boots, I realised I had been looking for La Pobla and had taken a wrong turn at the junction with the twenty-four hour garage. Left, along the bend, ’round the ringroad and when I sat down I realised I was still in Spain,…

Tarragona, Say My Name

On the run from a celebrity encounter with social services in Barcelona, I found myself wrestling with my genius here in Tarragona. The good citizens of this most beautiful Spanish city hardly blinked as I erupted forth into their lives, quietly but powerfully stepping off the bus and crying, “Veni, Vidi, Vici!” For here I…