On our first holiday in Spain, we spent a week on the Cabo de Gata in Almería: that vast and sprawling, dusty musty crusty, arid semi-desert moonscape of a land, that lies shrivelled and sun-seared as if it were the surface of a dying planet. It was here, in their heyday, back in the 1970s ( wasn’t it? ) that those spaghetti westerns were made. It was here that an ancient resurrected Lee van Cleef, who had died the Hollywood death when I was a lad, ( in the McCarthy witch hunts of the 1940s? )... Sign in to see full entry.