Permanent Passion

Her indifference to my homeland distressed me especially as I suffer what can only be described as passion for Spain. On more than one occasion I have behaved like a petulant and wronged lover. Driven to the point of no return, the need to escape so destructive I have thrown everything I had worked towards in a matter of weeks literally storming out swinging my hair behind me. Along with fifty boxes of personal effects, thirty of which more or less were books. Affairs though are heady and addictive and less than three months away from the country I was suffering withdrawal symptoms. I missed the luminance of the sky, the bold colours, and the extreme climates. I longed for the tastes, the aromas, the sensuality and above all the vitality. The Spanish love life, and their relationship with it is a heady cocktail intoxicating in its energy.

Last year I made yet another sudden departure, on this occasion to look after my beloved father Brian in what I had correctly predicted to be the last months of his life.