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If you find yourself in a Spanish city you don’t like, your recourse is obvious. Travel a short distance. The neighboring city will be very different from the one you just left.

We live in El Campello. It is a sleepy little beach town, a coastal Mayberry. There are a few apartment buildings with 10 -14 floors; but if in September, or anytime between that month and June, you stroll along the evening beach promenade you may notice that the condo towers are dark. In each building only one or two apartments are illuminated. Owners of the others are back home, where they earn a living and drive their kids to school.

The lights come on in July and August. Our Spanish Mayberry then bustles with vacationers. Spaniards are exchanging a few weeks of insufferable Madrid heat for the relative cool of a villa or condo on a Mediterranean beach. The vacationers mostly will be clumped in family units that include moms, dads, and children.

If you drive along the coast about 25 miles you will arrive at Benidorm. You will not mistake Benidorm for Mayberry. Although it claims only 69,000 residents, the city has more than 140 buildings with at least twenty floors. This includes Intempo which, at 47 floors, is one of the tallest residential buildings in Europe.

Benidorm needs all these tall buildings to house tourists. Over eleven million people visit Benidorm each year. Eleven million!

Continue reading “Binging on (or in) Benidorm”

I like to think of myself as physically fit. I reason that anyone who can run ten miles is in pretty good shape. I can run ten miles. I know I can because I did it in 1999. I have witnesses!

You may infer from the above that my self-esteem is a fragile contentment built on suspect reasoning. Which is why I avoid physical exertion. Exercise inevitably results in my body telling my ego that it is a damn liar. It can be an ugly scene.

I mention this so you understand my alarm when Denise suggested that we take a Free Walking Tour of Amsterdam.

Continue reading “Drugs, Sex and Improv in Amsterdam”

I’m writing to tell you about finding War Pigs in Copenhagen.

Continue reading “Finding War Pigs in Copenhagen”

I once saw a play set in Denmark. It was called Hamlet. The play was about a Danish prince, coincidentally also named Hamlet, who is very upset with his uncle.

Hamlet gives a long speech that begins “To be or not to be, that is the question.” This is his way of asking whether life is worth living. He narrowly decides against suicide. Literary scholars agree that this is a pivotal decision because it lengthens the play considerably.

Continue reading “Elvis is Not in Denmark”

For some years now I have found it difficult to retrieve seldom used words. Even some that are not-so-seldomly used. I often cannot recall the names of movies and actors that I should know well. I have spoken to many people about this. I would tell you who, but their names escape me right now.

Continue reading “If Age Makes You Wise, Why Ain’t I Smarter?”

I am a guest in Spain. I love my host country and I am loathe to say anything critical about it. However, I was a lawyer for nearly 40 years, and I am compelled to observe one way in which the American legal system is superior to the Spanish system.

Virtually anywhere you go in the United States you will see lawyer advertising on billboards and on TV. This is very handy because it lets people know who to call should they be lucky enough to be catastrophically injured. Spain seems not to appreciate the virtues of lawyer advertising. I have yet to see a lawyer’s name or face on a billboard or on TV. Spanish accident victims have no way of knowing whether a particular lawyer calls himself The Strong Arm, The Bulldog, or The Law Tiger, and therefore lack the fundamental data needed to know whether an advocate is any good.

Continue reading ““Lawyer Advertising in Spain” or “A Lot of Bull””

Today I write about a structure in my little town of El Campello, Spain. It is a small stone fortification on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. It was built at least 60 years before Pilgrims arrived at Plymouth Rock, but it reminds me of an often overlooked chapter of American history.

Continue reading “All Along the Watchtower”

Antoni Gaudí was a Barcelona architect who lived from 1852 to 1926. He had a one-of-a-kind style that incorporated many colors and elements (e.g., metal work, carpentry, tile, stone, etc.). Critics said his designs were “over the top,” even “gaudy” (people debate whether the word’s modern meaning is derived from Gaudi’s work). This picture of a town home he remodeled offers some justification for both fans and critics.

Continue reading “A Week of Clarity in Barcelona”

Our house in Manitou Springs went under contract before we moved to Spain. It still has not closed. That’s because real estate transactions move slowly so the prospective buyer has time to hire an idiot home inspector.

I’m not saying that all home inspectors are morons. That would be unfair to the home inspectors I have never met. I’m just saying every home buyer has a fundamental right hire an idiot inspector, if that’s what the purchaser wants to do. Most home buyers seem to exercise that right. Our buyers certainly did, but that’s another story.

Our story today begins in Spain. We have satisfactorily addressed all the inspector’s idiotic objections. The title company emails a dozen documents needing our signatures. Over half of them require notarized signatures.

Now you are sitting up in your seats. “Notarized signatures, you say? Please, Dan, don’t stop now! Tell us how you got your documents notarized!”

Your sarcasm is not unexpected. However, this story involves a pretty girl, assault weapons, and an Ambassador named “Duke.” I am lucky to have survived to tell the tale.

Continue reading ““Sentient Nails Worry About Hammers” or “Notarizing Documents in Spain””

Renting a car in Spain is a very important topic. Honestly, I can’t tell you the number of cards and letters we have gotten, all from readers asking what it is like to rent a car in Spain.

Continue reading ““RENTING A CAR IN SPAIN” or “MATTHEW McCONAUGHEY MUST DIE””