Letters from afar
I will never forget mojo picón— a slightly piquant sauce, verging on a bit too much garlic (except I really don’t think that’s possible), and served with mounds of papas arrugadas, a.k.a, wrinkled potatoes, which, for a better understanding, are boiled new-potatoes in sea-salt. I can eat almost anything drenched in it’s deliciousness! The first …
September 6, 2020 Valladolid, Spain Hauling my worldly goods across the Atlantic to the landlocked region of Spain –Castilla y Leon–I finally arrived in Valladolid just after 10pm. I can’t believe this morning I was floating on the waters in the middle of the Atlantic, and now I am in a noisy, crowded city over …
September 6, 2020 Gran Tarajal, Fuerteventura, Spain 7:30am Standing on my terrace I look out over the rooftops of the town I’ve called home. My eyes stop to rest their gaze on the distant horizon stretching across the ocean; it’s weird to think Africa is a mere 62 miles from my doorstep. The early morning …