Hello. Writing this from an internet īcafeī, that smells of wee, and is situated down a little back street, behind a cake shop, on the Avenue de Constitucion. Arrived in Seville yesterday evening. Sped through Customs - Iīm used to long queues, shuffling forward slowly to a booth where some hatchet faced, gimlet eyed, stalinist uniformed bod scrutinises my passport for a frighteningly long time. Smiling and looking innocent of all misdemeanours is useless, as Iīve never had a photo taken yet that didnīt look like something off Crimewatch, and my passport photo is no exception. Anyway, ther
[View Full Entry]