The Best Writers Apparently All Come From Odda (Samtale Ventar)

Sunday, 21st July 2013. Andalucia.

it’s Sunday, and I’m hungover.

we got up at 3.30 am yesterday to catch the plane. I and O welcomed us with cava at the patio at 11. it was a long day, but dinner was great. thai-style mussels and panfried sea bass at The Playwright. the place was packed. they have portraits of James Joyce and Henrik Ibsen on the walls, and at ten an English Elvis impersonator starts to sing Beatles-songs.

Spanish beach culture is crazy on Sundays. the Spaniards all flock to the beachfront in massive numbers on their day off. it’s not for me today. I need space. I stay at the urbanicacion, and read Marit Eikemo. “Samtale Ventar” is even better than “Arbeid Pågår”. the best writers apparently all come from Odda. I think I would’ve liked to meet Marit, and more importantly; I think she would’ve liked to meet me!

the vacationers at our urbanicacion are successful and well off Norwegians. directors, lawyers and doctors. they don’t know anything about literature. or rock’n’roll. a young girl stands in the corner at the tennis court and watches her parents play. she looks tense.

it’s Spanish Sunday.