PREAMBLE In 1970, aged eighteen, I was offered a place in the Prado School of Picture Restoration in Madrid. Having said goodbye to family and friends I arrived, speaking no Spanish, to find the school had closed due to lack of funding....
FRAGMENT ONE September 1974 As the ferry neared the port of Le Havre, reversing its engines with a roar, foot passengers bunched together to get closer to the disembarkation door. A jostle for the front, and as the ramp crashed down, a race...
PREAMBLE In 1970, aged eighteen, I was offered a place in the Prado School of Picture Restoration in Madrid. Having said goodbye to family and friends I arrived, speaking no Spanish, to find the school had closed due to lack of funding....
FRAGMENT ONE September 1974 As the ferry neared the port of Le Havre, reversing its engines with a roar, foot passengers bunched together to get closer to the disembarkation door. A jostle for the front, and as the ramp crashed down, a race...
FRAGMENT TWO When Cortés was asked what the country looked like, he squashed a piece of parchment in his hand, and released it, saying, ‘This is the map of Mexico.’ There was no more fitting description of the country as my bus lumbered from...
FRAGMENT THREE: Your Song After drinking brandy that burnt my throat, from a new-found travelling friend’s flask, I slept deeply for my final night in Mexico. At five in the still-dark morning, rolling reluctantly out of an uncomfortable tin...