The first time I became really conscious about who Franco had been, I was 23 years old. I was in the Valle de los Caídos (Franco’s tomb), a place where I had been many times before, without ever asking myself anything at all. How can it be that for so many years Franco’s dictatorship hasn’t mean anything to me? I try to remember… and I call my parents to see if they can help me jogging my memory…

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