It’s widely believed that these near-mystical creatures operate according to a complex algorithm:
Where visibility is highest (near town halls, tourist hotspots, high-density voter areas) the brushes spin the most ferociously.
Stray even a few hundred metres into the residential badlands, and you’ll only find silence, dirt, and whimsical tales of this fantastic beast that once visited.
Above, and if you look closely, we can just about see one trying to blend into its natural habitat.
To commemorate the event, we wrote a poem…
Ode to the Elusive Barredora
In Benissa Costa, just past dawn,
A whisper stirred — then it was gone.
A rumble, brushes faintly spun,
The beast emerged, then dashed to run.
With flashing light and silent grace,
It swept through town without a trace.
Locals blinked, unsure they’d seen
This phantom sent to make roads clean.
Its bristles twirled, its sprayers hissed,
Then vanished in the coastal mist.
Some say it’s real. Others deny.
A tale to tell the next passerby.
“Once, years ago,” the old men say,
“I saw it clean — for half a day.”
And children laugh at such wild lore,
For none have seen the beast once more.
So if you spot it, snap a shot,
They say that proof is rarely got.
But heed this truth we’ve come to know:
It’s heading south — and cleaning slow.
