On arrival at Sants, the more westerly of Barcelona’s stations, he inquired when the next train for Figueras left, and from which station, and was told that the Talgo would be departing from there in twenty minutes. He enjoyed train travel. One didn’t take off and land, so that there was no need to shut one’s eyes and pray, believing, yet very conscious that there were times when the Almighty slipped up. He stared out at the green, rolling, and in parts wooded countryside, and thought that here one could buy very many more hectares of fertile land for the same money as on the island. Perhaps after he’d retired, he could move to the Peninsula and buy the finca he had always longed to own, could till the land, plant the seed, harvest the crop . . . But he knew he was deceiving himself. He would never be truly happy away from the island. The train drew into Figueras and he alighted. He’d been promised that someone from the municipal police would meet him, but there was not a uniform in sight so he crossed to a seat, near a board which showed the make-up of the next train to Barcelona, and let the drowsy warmth engulf him .
What do You think about Relatively Dangerous (2016)?
