Posts By: irina

The dream engine insists on beef

I went to a small restaurant alone where I’d been with Spouse not a week earlier: not hard to find, but hard to get to, down a flight of stairs that were almost a ladder to a rickety landing at the side of a narrow town-centre canal, possibly in Utrecht. I knew that they had

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The dream engine provides people of affairs

I’d inherited a large old house with everything in it, and a lot of money as well (either in the bank/securities/whatever or in chests in the house). With the house came a man of affairs, a spare dark grumpy person who showed me everything from the attics down. When we got to the ground floor,

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Going to church in Sevilla

We went a lot. The evening we arrived we found the nearest church — Basilica de Jesús del Gran Poder — and though the company was congenial with lots of little children, the next church along (with an entrance in the same block), the Iglesia de San Lorenzo, where a very old priest served Mass

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Sevilla roundup

(Warning: contains some door-and-key geekery because I like little strangenesses.) We’re still in Sevilla, but the holiday is officially over: Libre Graphics Meeting, which we went to Sevilla for in the first place, started on Thursday night. I did take the morning off to go to a hipermercado, which probably deserves a blog post in

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Problems, and the solving of same

Publishing this after the fact (though written in stages) because I was completely sure that people would have replied with advice, on the blog, on Mastodon, on Twitter, even if I’d asked explicitly not to do that. Advice from people not on the spot would have made me much too nervous. I had all the

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Sevilla

My head is full of stuff. We’re so glad we’ve got this apartment: we have a teeny tiny courtyard that’s perfect to sit in and eat and drink delicious things and do nothing (or read, or blog, or talk; we might roleplay but haven’t got round to that yet). Yesterday we found our bearings in

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Barcelona-Sevilla (but first food)

The last evening in Barcelona we met friends for dinner: in their neighbourhood, first with a beer in their social club, and then in their favourite restaurant. It’s amazing that people (three youngish guys: two in the kitchen and one waiting tables) can have a restaurant where they do nothing at all to the interior,

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Barcelona (part 2)

Church Sleeping under only a sheet did the trick. We didn’t need to get up so early as yesterday anyway, because on Saturday there’s no Catalan service at 8, only a Castilian service at 9. When we were walking to the church we passed a cafe and I said “if Café Mono is closed we

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Barcelona (part 1)

We wanted to go by train all the way, and already had the tickets! Then SNCF decided to strike two out of every five days, and one of those days was the first day that our Interrail ticket was valid and because it was a special bargain price we couldn’t change it. Travelling later, skipping

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The dream engine keeps me from eating

Another bad restaurant dream (decide for yourself which noun “bad” belongs with). Spouse and I were in The Hague with a male friend (don’t know which friend it was, though it was one who exists in waking life as well) looking for a place to eat. Many places were closed, whether because it was a

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