Bir Ali, Yemen Different places, different times, different Christmases. This week’s Camino a Ítaca goes back to the beaches along the coast of Yemen in search of the Three Wisest of Men. Click over to the original piece in Spanish or read the English version below. Tambien se puede ver el original en castellano abajo…
Conservatism’s new defender, Isabel Ayuso As 2020 limps to its end I see swarms of bats surrounding the frog symposiums that are advising the worm conventicle in the great corner of mud. The end may be near, but end well it won’t. This week’s Camino a Ítaca looks at the fall of the Great Cheeto…
Crucifixes in classrooms Next stop on the Camino a Ítaca is a look at how you can indeed have your cake and eat it too…as long as you ‘believe’. You can read the English below or click over to the original in Spanish. You can also find the Spanish version in PDF format at the…
My bit on the ongoing creep of ‘one of us’ thought here in Spain and around the world in the next stage of the Camino a Ítaca. Read the English below or click over to the original published in el Hoy. Tambien se puede ver el original en castellano abajo en PDF. I have to admit…
Christ the king, Swiebodzin, Poland This week’s Camino a Ítaca reflects on giant Buddha’s and takes us to a frozen, muddy field in western Poland to see a Marvel-inspired Jesus. Read the original Spanish piece here or the English below. Tambien se puede ver el original en castellano abajo en PDF. I first caught a glimpse of…
Writing in the local paper. Local Issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here’s my version, then theirs, which can now be seen online (in Spanish) as well.
Writing in the local paper. Local Issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here’s my version, then theirs, which can now be seen online as well.
Writing in the local paper. Local Issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here’s my version, then theirs. Just as the bartender put down our cañas, my companion somewhat skeptically asked, “But how is it possible that you, a Canadian, are complaining about the cold…
The scene of the crime I had narrowly avoided massacring a dozen newly hatched chicks in a box, whose chirping had accompanied us up from Qax. Stumbling backwards as the rusted-out Soviet-era bus corkscrewed us deeper into the Caucasus, I instead tumbled into the lap of heavily mustached Georgian-speaking shepherd. He didn’t smile… Writing in…
Writing in the local paper. Local issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here’s my version, then theirs. Four years ago yesterday, while the rest of Caceres was celebrating San Jorge (Saint George), I sat in the maternity ward of the local hospital awaiting the arrival…