Saturday, July 15, 2006

Beach Mad Bob

I see this man on the right on the beach nearly every day. His skin is the colour of mahogany and he always wears white shorts and a white shirt and baseball cap. He has snowy white hair down past his shoulders. He has a curious flapping of hands motion as he jogs, sometimes reading a book at the same time. I asked to take his photo once and he agreed as long as I wasn't going to publish it. He explained that he was very well known and possibly famous and casually added that he was the new Pope. I have put him into Maureen Chlorine's strip under the page called "Freedom" The locals tell me that he used to be a priest in Aragon but who knows? There are a lot of strange people here.

The supermarket is now so full of tourists you can't even push a trolley down the aisles. The Spanish older lady takes her place in the queue with a rugby tackle and much elbowing. The Germans are so tall people get out of their way. The French are polite but persistant. The Dutch shop topless. The British look hot and confused. The Russians shop with bodyguards. The checkout girls have muscles like boxers after weeks of swinging crates of beer and wine over the thingy that reads the prices. 35 degrees in the shade this afternoon. Arthur is asleep in my guitar case.


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