Culture Clubbing

From one reality to another, and then another.

The towering Goliaths of the Asturian mountains formed an irregular green line in my rear view. It looked like Gaia’s cardiogram. I pressed the accelerator. The A8 rolled under my wheels. It was a long black conveyor pulling me steadily towards the French border. My barn was behind me now, nestled in the limestone mountains it was carved from, waiting f…