Well, the lovely Letitia married her prince today, though the rain in Spain certainly did fall on her parade, just as she emerged from the palace to walk to the church. In the end, she went the hundred yards courtesy of Messrs. Rolls and Royce. I needed to be out of the house when the morning’s proceedings were televised [on 3, if not 4, of the 5 channels] and my VCR naturally failed to function. But I was able to listen to the commentary on the car radio and so didn’t miss such gems as, ”Well, we now have a priest to tell us about the religious aspects of this ceremony. Tell us, Father, what is happening on the altar now?” “Well, they are waiting for the bride and groom to arrive.” Then there were the endless expressions of regret about the Madrid rain, which went down rather well up here in abnormally-sunny Galicia.

I needn’t have wondered about missing the pictures because the same 3 [or 4] channels spent the entire afternoon and evening doing what Spanish TV does best – having six or eight people sitting in a semi-circle analyse every conceivable aspect of the day. Much of this I cannot take but I did enjoy this comment before switching off - “The Infanta Elena does look absolutely beautiful but she needs to be more careful about how she walks.” Nothing too trivial for these ‘programmes of the heart’. Heartless, more likely.

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Having mentioned surly funcionarios last time, I should report that my daughter was given a ticket yesterday for parking her car on a pavement opposite my house that is never used. The reason it is never used is that it is completely blocked by not just one but three huge rubbish skips placed there by the same local council whose police issued the fine. And these fine men, you will recall, are led by a chap who has a habit of crashing into the back of other cars whilst under the influence. We are not confident of a successful appeal.