Monday, June 27, 2011
Sun-sopped Andalusia, home to Picasso and the flamenco, is a solitary landscape of rolling cordovan-hued hills stitched by vineyards and olive orchards and best explored on the back of a donkey. At 204 mph, Andalusia sprays at you in a brown and green smear.
At 204 mph, even freshly rolled pavement, paid for with lavish European Union loans, feels perilously lumpy as the subtle mounds and sags that are invisible at sane speeds become terrifying whoop-de-dos.
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