Mikel Iriondo is a university professor in his forties, married with two children. He lives with his family in the town of Eibar, in the Basque country.
At first glance, Mikel's life seems perfectly normal. But he never leaves the house without two bodyguards, and then only to go to work.
He never drives his own car, never goes for a walk in the countryside, or takes his wife out for a romantic meal, never plays football with his son - in short, his life is anything but normal.
Caged existence
"If I want to go out, I call my bodyguards, and we try to make it a different time each day," said Mikel. Your habits have to be as varied as possible.
"The most dangerous thing is to leave the house at the same time every day, or always go to the same place. The Socialist politician Froilan Elespe, who was killed here recently, always went for a drink at the same bar, and he didn't have bodyguard, because he said he didn't want one.
"Terrorists don't go for people who are well protected. They always go for easy targets, people with regular routines, people who go out alone. "
Mikel's situation would drive most people mad, but it's becoming the norm for many in the Basque country.
Those affected are not only members of the security forces and politicians. Intellectuals, peace campaigners, businessmen, journalists - all have been targeted by the Basque separatist group, ETA, in the past year.
Proof that ETA's range of targets had widened came with the death last May of Jose Luis Lopez de Lacalle, a journalist and peace campaigner. Since then, many more people have taken protection.
Targets widened
"It all changed when they killed Jose Luis Lopez de Lacalle, who was a friend of mine, and a member of the same peace group," said Mikel.
While Mikel's name hasn't appeared on any specific hitlist, he strongly believes his life is in danger.
He has openly criticised ETA in the media, he is in a high-profile peace group, and he feels even more under threat now that he is standing as an independent candidate in the Basque elections.
"My name has appeared in graffiti, in posters or slogans, put there by groups close to ETA. Once, at Christmas, they sent cards to all of us at the university saying we'd been bad this year, so we weren't getting any presents."
While ETA has so far never targeted the relatives of its chosen victims, Mikel's situation affects the whole family.
When his wife Arrantxa married him, did she ever think she'd be living like this?
"How could I have imagined all this? I married a university professor, not someone who I ever thought would be under threat at some point in his life, or who would need two bodyguards just to go out. No, it never entered my head," she said.
"But I accept what Mikel has decided to do and the path he's chosen. You have to support him, otherwise we would have been divorced a long time ago."
State bodyguard
It was only a month ago that Mikel was told to get a bodyguard. The number of people under the care of the security services is a state secret, but it's certainly growing. And as the government pays, it is also a growing expense for the state.
But Arrantxa welcomes the feeling of safety it brings. "I'm much less worried than I was, because he's well protected," she said.
"I've been wanting him to get a bodyguard for some time now. The car always used to make me nervous, thinking that hidden behind that corner, or waiting at the traffic lights, there might be someone wanting to kill him. I couldn't live like that - we would have got divorced."
Mikel is arranging to meet some colleagues at an election rally. He tries to carry on his life as normal, within the boundaries of a very abnormal situation.
He insists he won't be silenced, and he won't follow in the footsteps of a growing number of his colleagues who have chosen self-imposed exile from the Basque country.
"I try to keep my sense of humour. If I ever lose that, I'll leave, that's for sure."