Protected: Summer of 69 (erhum, 2019)
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Madrid’s park, Los Jardines del Campo del Moro, is a place that acts as my very own pair of red shiny shoes; two clicks of my heels and I’m in another place called home.
Morrissey, Marr and Luhrmann – a match made in hell for many – and certainly any self-respecting Mancunian. But having lived both Manc-side and Oz-side, I find these two anthems seamlessly intertwine and fire up on my mental playlist while I’m gawping at Lady Madrid’s sunsets. Take me out tonight… Where there’s music and there’s…
My beloved Guy Garvey has written many a lyric that clutches at my heart. In Station Approach, he injects love, belonging and hometown pride into our chests with the line ‘Coming home I feel like I, designed the buildings I walk by.’ Pause and ponder on that thought for a moment and picture yourself gazing…
Not many Spaniards see the dawn sober. I saw this though. Segovia. Shadows of spires. A cathedral like the cardboard cutout back drop of a kids’ puppet show. We walked from the old town to the field where the balloons waited, climbed into a basket with some lads who’d seen a rum-tinted dawn, but who…