On Benches, Boulevards, and the Beauty of Belonging One of the things I’ve always admired about life in Spain is how public public space truly is. A square is not something to pass through—it’s something to dwell in. A bench belongs to whoever needs a rest. A park, a pool, a plaza: these are…
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” — Mark Twain Samuel Clemens, the master of irony, wrote this during his “Grand Tour” around the Mediterranean in the late 1800s. It’s a truism that doesn’t always stick — not everyone becomes wiser through travel. But even for the most seasoned travelers, the road can still…
God help us. The war drums are beating again. Somewhere between the tortilla and the gazpacho, the far-right guardians of Spanishness are having a collective nosebleed — purity tests for everything from ham to human beings. I couldn’t sit idly by and watch the madness. No, I strapped on my battered typewriter and unleashed a…
In this week’s Camino a Ítaca a look at how mediocrity seems to rise to power here in Spain. This of course happens everywhere, but here in Spain there seems to be a particular subset of people whose sole ability is to play the system and reach the top without having any other discernible skills.…
The Camino a Ítaca is in no way linear, it circles and loops and starts all over again. As spring turns Cáceres into the allergy sufferers nightmare, another event takes places, one that has been going on for more than thirty years. It’s quasi-religious in the way that in some sectors it can’t be questioned for…
Nostalgia, memory, love: all powerful emotions. And what can trigger them? In this case, Pop Rocks exploding in a sensory sugar rush. In Spanish they call them Peta Zetas but it’s a story that could easily be told in German, Russian, Romanian, Albanian or Cambodian. It’s a story that will be told again in Argentina…
“For a moment, it felt like we had won. The bad guys were relics. Fascism was a lesson Spanish schools didn’t teach, and liberal democracy was what all the cool countries were wearing.” The Camino a Ítaca climbs the Statue of Liberty this week for a look around to see what is left of something…
Ages rise and rot, and this one smells like cheap cologne, pancake make-up and cold, hard cruelty. The Age of Reason left town long ago, probably hitchhiking with Elvis, and in its place slithers the Age of Mean—petty, ugly, and proud of it. Welcome to the golden era of the selfish, the crass, the smug…
I’ve been called a lot of things in my life. My surname alone has had people thinking that I’m from a lost tribe to an island in Japan. In this week’s Camino a Ítica, the way my name can cause consternation among some. Life on the peninsula is no longer so monochrome, or monotheistic. Click…
JD Vance comes to Europe Poor Chicken Little, after everyone ignored the little guy for so long, saying he was exaggerating, that what the fascists were saying was only electioneering, peanuts for the gallery, not to be take seriously… And then came Vance to Europe to let everyone know that they are playing for keeps.…