My parents were, for their day, quite adventurous travelers. So I have vague, and fond, memories barelling down to the South of Spain in a state of the art Morris 1300 (something Dad had read about hydroelastic suspension being the pero's cojones in dealing with Iberian tracks), overnighting in exotic paradores and having my (then) blond (then) hair ruffled by cooing black-clad matrons with moustaches.
And it was on this trip that we ended up at a wondrous spot that is now in the news:
Greenpeace activists have seized a vast hotel under construction on a protected shoreline near Almeria in southern Spain, saying the project was illegal and should be demolished.
The skeleton of the hotel reaches down bare volcanic rock to a beach of spectacular beauty in the protected area of Cabo de Gata.
So without knowing all, or indeed needing to go into the detail of this (such as feeling it a pity that the preventative occupation has taken place once a heck of a lot desecration must have already occurred), I have to say this is the kind of thing I remember, and applaud the likes of Greenpeace for.