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A roundabout story

Some years ago we were somewhere in Spain, Bilbao I think. All over town there were fibre glass cows. Each plain moulding had been assigned to a different artist and each finished product was different.

As we drive through Salado Alto there is a roundabout which features a stone circle a la Castlerigg or Avebury. I'm sure that in the future some clueless archaeologist will label the site as being of religious significance. In Abanilla the roundabout boasts an artificial lawn and a stone statue of the One True Cross. In la Romana it's twin towers, like two rough versions of Cleopatra's needle. Roundabouts as individual statements are everywhere in Spain.

Often, when I drive out to San Javier I see the Patrulla Águila, the Spanish Red Arrows, practising their routines. They fly out of the military airfield which currently doubles as the Murcia destination for Easy Jet and Ryanair. They trail red and yellow smoke and fly Casa C-101 Aviojets. On the roundabout by the Dos Mares Shopping centre one of those planes seems to be doomed to fly forever lower than an RAF Typhoon on active service over Libya. It has been turned into  the decoration for the roundabout.


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