The
Spanish construction industry is a strange animal. Yesterday I read
the comment that:- Strange
as it sounds, Spain’s [massive] housing stock is still growing,
thanks to the inertia in the construction industry. What
the writer means is that there are projects initiated as the bubble
was imploding four or five years ago that haven't been completed. In
other words, the project behind my house is not the only one to take
six years from start to finish.
Except
the latter isn't yet 'finished'. According to Nice-but-Noisy Toni this evening, the builders have been taken to court and found
guilty of stealing land from the Community of the Mountains, a body
which includes both me and Toni. The upshot is that four of the
properties are illegal and so the local council won't give a
Certificate of Completion until things are remedied. I'm not sure
how. Nor am I clear what those who bought non-illegal properties
can do about the situation to gain entry. I am
sure that none of them will be sanguine about taking the builders to
court. It could be a long time before any of the houses are occupied.
If Toni has got his facts right.
So,
how come I was chatting to Toni? Well, I had a new plumber in to
correct a bodge made last week by another plumber. And the gate was
open as Toni brought his sons home
from school. Which is all he needs to add his expertise and opinion
to anyone working at my house. But I can't (or shouldn't) complain as
he not only imparted the above information but also told me he'd be
returning to sea muy pronto.
Today
I did a four-hour walk along the Pontevedra-Caldas de Reis camino.
Not for religious reasons, of course, but to test my legs before
doing a somewhat longer hike with my houseguest, Ian, next week. Much
of this stretch has been impaired by the construction works for the
AVE high-speed train. And some has been ruined. I was particularly
upset to see that a field which two years ago hosted a dig into Roman
remains, was now totally taken over by the support works for a vast
concrete bridge. As I passed I could hear the whirring of Romans and
Ibero-Celts rotating in their graves.
I've
always translated the Spanish verb Esgrimir as 'To wield', as
in an argument. So I was a bit confused to see it emerge as one of
the Olympic sports. And I didn't put two and two together to arrive
at the realisation that 'to wield' could also be of a weapon. And
that this the weapon could be a sword. Hence, 'fencing'.
My
Dutch friend, Peter, has left his dog, Argos, for a few days, while
he goes down to Portugal to see our mutual friend, Alfie Mittington.
Argos seems a tad disconcerted and keeps coming to the back door and
then going straight out of the front door after I've let him in. I
wonder whether he's confused at the absence of my old dog, Ryan.
Which would be touching.
Finally,
I leave you – for obvious reasons – with somebody's 28 reasons to
'celebrate' Grey
and Silver Foxes. I'm not sure all 28 apply to me:-
1.
Grey
Foxes exude an understated, dignified sort of glamour. They are
refined, but not prissy. They are concerned with their appearance,
but they are not obsessed with it. They are well-groomed, but not
vain.
2.
Grey
Foxes are, by definition, still in possession of their hair. This is
good.
3.
They
look surprisingly good in pink.
4.
José
Mourinho (the ultimate example of the salt-and-pepper fox).
5.
George
Clooney. Obviously.
6.
Sir
Stuart Rose. The Silver Fox in M&S clothing.
7a.
The
Grey Fox has made peace with the ageing process. More than that, he
actively embraces it, because it suits him physically, probably more
than dewy youth ever did. This minimises his chances of having a
midlife crisis, which is, let’s face it, no fun for anyone.
7b.
As a consequence, the Grey Fox is philosophically opposed to the
tedious notion of “adultescence”: teenage-hood prolonged
indefinitely. He does not play Call
of Duty
on his Xbox. He does not have an Xbox. He doesn’t believe in the
wearing of sportswear for any occasion other than exercise. (He
doesn’t really believe in the gym, either. Or jogging. Though he’s
possibly very good at tennis.) He grudgingly uses a smartphone, but
he turns it off outside office hours.
8.
Roger
Sterling (the actor John Slattery) from Mad
Men.
9.
CNN
anchorman Anderson Cooper (the gay Grey Fox).
10.
Grey
Foxes know how to tie a scarf (see José Mourinho for reference) . .
.
11.
. . . and
how to wear facial hair (the reputation of which has been somewhat
besmirched by the ironically bearded and mustachioed youthful hipster
brigade, but the Grey Foxes are working tirelessly towards reclaiming
it).
12.
Barack
Obama (in a certain light).
13.
Obama’s
former chief of staff and the Mayor of Chicago, Rahm Emanuel, who is
definitely a Grey, as opposed to Silver, Fox.
14.
Once
they’re over 50, Grey Foxes automatically qualify as “venerable”.
15.
They
can pull off a man bag. (Although no jewellery, other than cufflinks
and a wedding ring. Anything more would clash with their hair and
their general sensibility, tipping them into the region of flash, at
which point, their Grey Fox credentials would be suspended. See Gary
Lineker for further reference.)
16.
Professor Brian Cox, physicist and Grey Fox in waiting. (It’s only
a matter of time. The delicious anticipation.)
17.
Matt LeBlanc in his BBC Two Episodes
incarnation. (NB, LeBlanc has a substantial paunch, which would
normally disqualify him from Grey Fox status, but he’s Italian and
Italians are genetically inclined towards becoming Grey Foxes in
middle age. It’s something to do with their eyelashes and their
tradition for slight flamboyance in the lining of blazers.)
18.
Grey
and silver hair works especially well when juxtaposed against dark
tailoring.
19.
It also looks really good when accessorised with a tan.
20.
Bill
Nighy. (An anomaly, because he was strawberry blond. Traditionally,
Grey Foxes begin life as brunettes. However, Nighy’s clever use of
a dark-framed spectacle to offset the grey in his otherwise blond
hair allows him to qualify. And – he’s Bill Nighy.)
21.
Paul
Weller. You do something to me.
22.
Grey
Foxes can, for some reason, get away with a polo-neck. This makes
them the only remaining subsection of humanity that can.
23.
Artist
Julian Opie. But not Damien Hirst, who is too bedraggled to qualify.
(See also: Bob Geldof. These are just famous men with grey hair. Not
the same thing at all.)
24.
And
yet . . . Benicio del Toro! Who is bedraggled, but definitely
qualifies as a Grey Fox.
25.
Bill
Clinton (there really is no point in fighting it).
26.
Jon
Snow, the elder statesman of Grey Foxes. See also: American satirist
Jon Stewart (a Grey Fox with a sharp tongue, a highly beguiling
combination); also Jeremy Paxman, a Fox in transition.
27.
Howard
Jacobson. Grey Foxes especially suit the literary tradition, not
least because no one can walk around with a battered paperback
peeping out of their coat pocket quite as convincingly.
28.
And
finally, Father Christmas. (Oh, come on now, he has a certain
something.)