I’ve often marvelled at the inner world of the pigeon. My office, where I’m sat right now, looks out over a pretty square, with tall mature palms and a deep neoclassical colonnade, populated by cafes and bars.Its citizens are tourists, beggars, drunks, performers, and teenagers, all in various states of inebriation. As a locale, the plaza has seen bette…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Huw Lemmey's 'Utopian Drivel' to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.