December 16, 2003
I posted from Valencia, Spain yesterday but it is disappearing into the bloggersphere. I am sending this to Carole Glenn, who then sends it to Jason, our web guy, and he is posting it. Too irritating to describe.

Today we went into the center of Valencia. The city goes all the way back to the Romans. Here´s the numbers:

· 800,000 people (styled as 800.000 in Espanole, they reverse the period and comma, so that a $7.20 bottle of wine is priced at 7,25).

· 200 museums

· 600 fiestas a year

· Guys don´t wear hats. Not one. All bear heads

· No pickups, no Harleys, but tons of Vespas, Hondas, very few SUVs, mostly little cars that they drive about 70 on the side streets, faster on the freeways. The parking is outrageous, with cars double and triple parked into the street, cars left right on the street corners, up on the sidewalks, I´m not exagerating.

· Almost all the chicas and mujeres (women and girls) smoke, everywhere. We had dinner in a great cafe yesterday and this family is sitting right next to us and the dad lights up a huge stogie. Really oppressive. The little mujeres are quite small, most under five feet and they walk in a line, down the street like little pigmy gunfighers, arm in arm, talking a mile a minute. I tried to jump over their heads but I clipped a beehive hairdo and pulled a leg muscle.

· Not really.

More later.

"What does it matter how one comes by the truth so long as one pounces upon it and lives by it?"
-Henry Miller