September’s weather has been spectacular this year. This has led to some confusion among the local beauties. Many have stayed in summer togs but a fair number have opted for autumnal jackets, calf-length jeans and stiletto-heeled boots. Appealing but hardly appropriate. But, then, come the sunny days of mid-winter, their mothers, aunts and grandmothers will be strutting the town centre in even less sensible mink coats.

The chap who writes the blog in which I came across ‘Vaya yo!’ notes many traits of the Spanish I’ve touched on in mine. Specifically, he confirms they can seem both terribly rude and extremely helpful. The key, he suggests, is whether the interaction is ‘personalised’ in any way. So, you might find that someone who’s refused to cede any space on the pavement and bumped into you will then go out of his way to help you if you ask him for directions. Another way of looking at this is whether you are – or can force your way into - his orbit. For Spaniards are not instinctively aware of others. They lack social antennae, you might say. A perfect example occurred yesterday when I went to pay for my lunch at the bar. While waiting, I was reading the newspaper lying on the counter, a little to my left. Suddenly, the guy next to me stopped reading another paper, looked directly at me and threw it on top of the one I was clearly reading. Years ago this would have annoyed me intensely but now I know that not only did he not intend to upset me but that, if I’d said anything to him, he’d certainly have apologised profusely and possibly even offered to buy me a drink.

I made the mistake of checking this evening whether Everton had beaten lowly Wigan at the weekend. They hadn’t, losing 1-0 at home. So now it’s 8 defeats out of 9. And with a match against Dinamo Bucharest this week, it will surely soon be 9 out of 10. I wonder if, now we’re out of both the Champions’ League and the UEFA Cup, it’s too late to concentrate on winning the Premiership.