The barbershop was right opposite Marian's house in Cádiz, which was not in itself an argument for going there. But it was convenient. The barber had what is arguably (Fernando Torres to one side) the worst haircut I have ever seen on a Spanish man - we excuse the children their rat-tails, for they know not what they do. It was worrying enough to start with. But then he used both a cutthroat razor on me, and a neckbrush full of jasmine-scented talcum powder. I feared the worst. Imagine my chagrin when I came out of the ordeal looking alright, even quite respectable.
For more pictures of Fernando Torres's ridiculous hairstylings, see http://www.fernando9torres.com. It'll keep you happy for hours. Well, a few minutes at least.
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