Thanks to the censorship of the Franco era, Spain has an impressively efficient dubbing industry. So – in contrast to Portugal – we never get any films shown here with their original soundtrack and subtitles. This would be great for improving my Spanish if it weren’t for the fact I’m driven to distraction because the same 3 or 4 people dub every part in every film, from precocious teenager up to dribbling octogenarian. The weirdest thing about all this dubbing is that the Spanish naturally come to associate the dubbers’ voices with famous actors and then dismiss the real voices as disturbingly ‘inauthentic’ when they finally get to hear them.
One of the strange things about the Galician elections [as yet undecided] is that support for the socialist/nationalist coalition was weaker in the interior than along the coast. Given that the economy of the depopulating hinterland is markedly inferior, you might have thought people there would welcome the policies of a socialist government. The answer, I’m told, lies in the fact that the old-style political barons [los caciques] still hold sway up in the hills.
Conversation in a sports shop this evening:-
Have you got any badminton shuttlecocks?
Yes, here you go..
Ah, these are made of plastic. Do you have any others?
No, but, look, the base is made of cork.