To make the “Motorway with Toll” AP1 (paid motorway between Madrid and France) completely free of tolls, and therefore the N1 (alternative, free road) less mortal, a group from Miranda demonstrated cutting the road, with the support of neighbours and the Platform of Briviesca.
There are more pictures, and available in bigger resolution
And we raided the heavens, or what is equivalent to saying that some members of Podemos were elected in various elections, to the point of having representatives in Parliament, and mayors ‘of the change’ in important cities and in mine. Continue reading →
I do not know what they called us first. When I arrived in London there were many different groups of what some formal people came to call the ‘extraparliamentary left’. Each with their name, the group commanded and the media watched, and part of society watched too, through them. We called them “mainstream media” (we now call them corporate media when we mind our manners). Continue reading →
After three other events against pensions of misery (reports in Spanish (22 feb, 17 march, 16 abril), this past April 30 we made the fourth demonstration in Briviesca, responding to the call of the Coordinadora for pensions. Continue reading →
Reflexions on the day of Hispanidad, on view of so many weapons on display on the streets of Madrid.
12 of October, which in the calendars – these seem to be separating – in the Christian calendar it appears as the day of Our Lady of the Pilar and in the civilian ones as the Day of the Hispanity or Columbus Day. Continue reading →
I do not know if all football fields have this acoustics or it’s only the ones I have visited. It is a unique sound, men shouting instructions at each other while pursuing a ball, and the louder they shout the greater the echo, against the nearly empty stands, apart from a few young enthusiasts, encouraging their parents, or their children, or their friends. And as the game progresses, the light is dimmer, but the shouts and echoes are not. And there comes a time when the field is barely visible from the fence, and the only truly visible things are the fluorescent boots of the players, multicolored boots under the uniformity of the duller team uniform colours. But someone has forgotten to turn on the lights and the sky and the field are darker and darker. Then the party and the echoes have died, and the football field is silent and dark.
Him, bald. With a black moustache with gray stains, like white hairs. Summer clothes. Her, with glasses. Both very tanned. Just like any other couple, with their backpack and sitting on a bench at the edge of the pool. Apart from that she is covered from head to toe. Baggy trousers, shirt even more baggy, all the way to her knee, and a scarf against her head and neck. Continue reading →