As part of the probate
process for my father's will, I went this morning to swear a few
things on oath. This was in front of a solicitor who's also a
Commissioner of Oaths, which is the English equivalent of a Spanish
notary. More or less. It was my first time for this and I had the
impression it was hers as well. Or perhaps she was rusty. Anyway,
knowing how these things can go in Spain, I took four different
identification documents, plus photocopies of each one. Which was all
unnecessary as she only wanted sight of two and didn't want photocopies
of anything. Quick and easy. And only 7 quid to pay. That's the way
to do it.
As I was a shopping this
morning, I became aware someone was looking at me as if he knew me.
But his portly, dishevelled appearance meant nothing to me. So I was
a little surprised when he said “Hello, stranger. How are you?”
“Sorry,” I said, we don't know each other.” “Sure? He asked.
“Yes”, I said and walked away. Initially, I was amused by this.
But then I was struck by the unwelcome thought that he might have
mistaken me for my father. Well, he looked a lot younger than he was.
I talked the other
night about the relentless innovation which hits you when you go into
a British supermarket after the absence of a year. Today's example is
roast potatoes you only need to heat up in the oven for 20 minutes.
Like buying a tin of cocido
in Galicia, I suppose. Which may well be possible. Must check.
My friend Mike gave
me this definition of a gentleman this morning – Someone
who can play the trombone, but doesn't.
Of course you can chose your instrument but Mike went with the trombone
as I used to blow on this when he was playing the trumpet in the
school orchestra. We did a mean Grand March from Aida. It stays with you.
A conversation with my
mother this evening, towards the end of the match between Barcelona
and Paris St Germain:-
Well, Messi hasn't done
much this half, has he?
No, Mum. But there's a
very good reason for that.
What?
He hasn't been on the
pitch since half-time.
More seriously . . . To no
great surprise, it's becoming increasingly clear that the new tax
measures in respect of assets held outside Spain are aimed primarily
at foreigners. If that weren't all, they're being introduced in a
disgustingly underhand manner, with swingeing penalties for those
whose submissions are in any way erroneous. As this article stresses,
none of this will do anything for Spain's reputation and will almost
certainly lose Spain investments. Especially as we foreigners are not
entitled to vote. Truly taxation without representation. And a fine
example of disgusting expediency, from a discredited and corrupt
government. Perhaps I should move south to Portugal.
No comments:
Post a Comment