Today is the last day of the Galician general election campaign, with voting taking place on Sunday. ‘Don Manuel’ Fraga appeared on national TV this morning and, when asked about his insulting remarks, gave the standard-missing-the-point-Spanish reply of ‘It was just a joke. No one should be upset as I didn’t intend to hurt them’. You may remember this stance from when the [equally unrepentant] Spanish soccer coach was tackled about racist remarks he’d made about Thierry Henri of Arsenal a month or so ago.
I don’t know what it’s like in other parts of Spain but here it’s hard to find a restaurant that doesn’t offer you desserts from a short list comprising whisky cake, ice cream, cheese cake, egg custard, yoghurt and, if you’re lucky, tinned fruit. It’s as if Franco issued a decree making these 6 items compulsory and no one’s bothered to repeal it. When the waiter goes into the dessert routine, I really don’t know whether to laugh or cry. But now and again there’s something different. Today we were up in the mountains - in a village of large, if tasteless, houses said to be financed by the prostitution trade in Mexico – and we were offered brioche. Naturally, we fell on it like famished vultures. And were pleasantly surprised.
There are apparently more than 500 sites which name this blog. Most appear to be directories of one sort or another but four which intrigue me are dedicated to Amway, Vacuum Cleaner Information, the Bargain Tire Guide and Private Jet Makers. Try as I might, I can’t figure out the connection with Spain or Galicia. But what the hell. I’m not proud.