Bit of a brouhaha today over the publication by a Catalan paper of poll results, which is an illegal act here during the week before voting. The story is covered by the UK’s Times in an article which, surprisingly, was the most read item on line at 7.15 UK time. Possibly all those Top People using blackberries [whatever they are] on the train. In the [many] Comments to this report, you can see the traditional view from the Left that anyone who criticises the socialist PSOE party must be a fascist. What comforting certainty. Interestingly, most of these comments come from Spaniards around the world. I guess this is because they still see The Times as the paper it last was a few decades ago. And, as you’d expect if you knew anything about Spanish politics, the word ‘liar’ crops up a lot.

Sorry to keep plugging the Times but there’s a worrying article there today – by the Professor of Information Systems at the LSE - about the risks inherent in the UK government’s ID card plans. If I had any plans to return, I’d scrap them now.

Down in Evora, there’s an estate agent [realtor] called OnlyWay. Here in Spain, there are many thousands of estate agents which should probably be called TheOnlyWayIsDown. But one shouldn’t make fun of the walking dead. Even if they do charge 3 to 6% for doing bugger all. And became very rich on it over the last 10 years.

Which reminds me – As with English, there’s no word in Spanish for schadenfreude. Nor in French, I’m assured. This must surely tell us something. Apart from the fact that, if it takes 20 seconds to get across the meaning in English, it must take up to minute in Spanish. Only joking. It’s alegría por el mal ajeno. As against malicious glee. Possibly.

Galicia Facts

During a BBC podcast the other day, it was suggested Shakespeare’s King Lear might not have gone down well at its first performance. This is because he’d removed the Hollywood ending from an old folktale, to leave the stage swimming in corpses and blood and the audience in numbed shock. But, when it was added that the essence of the play was a life and death struggle between family members for land, I realised it would still go down a storm in any Galician village. As more topical than any soap opera currently on TV. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were discovered that, like Christopher Columbus, Will had been born not in Stratford-upon-Avon but here in Poio. Or Chickenland to us residents.

As proof, I see that Bardo means playwright in Gallego. Ancient Gallego, that is. Apparently, the word was brought here by the British traders who settled in Bretoña, up near A Coruña, in the 6^th century. Honest. Check it out here.