Driving my daughters to Santiago airport today, I noted the autopista was – as ever - relatively free of traffic. Dwelling on the possibility this could be connected with the tolls that double the cost of the trip, it struck me that only the wealthier drivers take the autopistas. Everyone else – and most of the commercial traffic – takes the parallel National roads. What this means is that, via EU hand-outs, Northern European taxpayers of all levels have financed the greater speed and comfort of the Spanish elite. This is even more true of North Portugal, where the toll roads are virtually devoid of traffic. Perhaps things will change when Spanish per capita income is higher and tolls are lower. And pigs have learned to fly.

At 10am on New Year’s Day, a member of the national police in Tarragona – returning from an all-night party - drove into the back of a cyclist. He was later found to be more than 4 times over the alcohol limit. But at least he'll be disciplined for his offence. Which is more than can be said for one of our local police chiefs, who makes a habit of driving into the back of vehicles after lunch. Or breakfast even.

Back home from seeing my daughters off at the airport, I decided to cheer myself up with a glass of Albariño wine and a plate of curry. Hardly the correct combination but what the hell. Having decided to baptise a new tray I got for Christmas, I carried the food and drink into my sitting room. But, being unsure of the dimensions and balance of the tray, I also managed to baptise the settee, my pullover and my trousers. The rest of the afternoon was downhill.