T H I S+W E E K > Crime takes a holiday By David Corn Cavorting with mystery writers at a conference-cum-carnival in northern Spain A lucky life By Don George, Editor Peter Mayle talks about writing, painting and taking risks August advice By Peter Mayle Oh to be in Paris -- now that the Parisians are gone D E P A R T M E N T S The Surreal Gourmet By Bob Blumer It's summer -- stay out of the kitchen! Passages "To Timbuktu" By Mark Jenkins African encounters Mondo Weirdo Parts is parts Readers' Tips and Tales The hubris of going "where the tourists don't go" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Your virtual travel agency - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - LA S T+W E E K Tuesday, July 22 Thai Die By Karl Taro Greenfeld An adventure gone awry in northern Thailand A full list of all Wanderlust articles

___WHY DO CRIME AUTHORS FROM AROUND THE WORLD FLOCK ___TO AN OBSCURE SPANISH COASTAL TOWN EVERY JULY? ___A NONSTOP PARTY MAY HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT. ____ILLUSTRATION BY CALEF BROWN crime takes a holiday____ BY DAVID CORN | when the train arrived in Gijón, a city on Spain's northern coast, I hopped off and moved through a platform crammed with people and, as a brass band played, I felt a hand upon my shoulder. I turned and encountered a young man. "Usted es escritor?" he asked. "Yes ... eh, sí," I answered. I don't understand Spanish, but in preparation for this trip I had learned the word for writer. The young man squeezed my shoulder, smiled and said, "Bueno." He then waved his hand at the others who were getting off the train. "Escritores?" he asked. I nodded. "Muy bueno," he said and disappeared into the crowd, searching, I guessed, for more of the 50 escritores, who had traveled to Gijón together from Madrid. After the band stopped playing, our handlers guided us to buses at the front of the station, where a number of protesters held posters and banners. The largest banner read "Chrónica de una Muerte Anunciada." I found someone who informed me this meant "Chronicle of a Death Foretold," and he explained that the demonstrators were angry over downsizing at a local steel mill. They hoped the camera crews and reporters present -- yes, to record the arrival of writers -- might also pay the workers attention. But to demonstrate by unfurling the title of a Gabriel García Márquez novel? "Yes," my translator of the moment replied, "Gijón is a highly cultured town." And it is where each summer dozens of crime fiction authors from around the world gather for an odd conference-cum-carnival ominously named Semana Negra, the Black Week. As is now the tradition, every July a train full of dozens of writers, editors, publishers, artists and musicians -- dubbed the Black Train -- slowly chugs through the steep, craggy, charcoal-colored mountains into the Asturias region, where large industrial facilities, nestled into the rolling, green countryside, co-exist with hillside farms. It then pulls into seaside Gijón, a gritty, commercially bustling but still charming city perched on a peninsula, which is oversold as the "Spanish Riviera." And a hundred or so of the 300,000 residents turn out to greet the travelers. It is the closest to a hail-the-conquering-writers scene most scribblers will ever experience. It is a prelude to 10 days of intellectual discussions, political activity and literary cheerleading that is coupled with a massive festival -- greasy food, fast rides, loud music, rambunctious dancing -- that draws nearly 1 million visitors. By the way, there is plenty of all-night drinking and carousing among the mystery literati and, seemingly, the entire city, which is more alive at 4 in the morning than at 4 in the afternoon during Semana Negra. No wonder they celebrate our arrival. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - NEXT PAGE | A fraud waiting to be discovered

W A N D E R L U S T

A R C H I V E S N E W S L E T T E R T A B L E T A L K M A R K E T P L A C E