Oh dear. Déjà vu. In search of a separate parliament, northern Italy may be going Scottish. One strand of logic there is that the folk of this part of Italy are not incorrigibly lazy and dishonest Latins like the southerners but descendants of the hard-working Celts who invaded Italy in the 4^th century. Is there no nationalist cause for which these mythical – or at least mythicised - people can’t be prayed in aid?

Which reminds me, a writer in the April edition of Prospect Magazine claims, rather baldly, that the EU’s handling of the Kosovo final status issue has been a dog's breakfast. He goes on to say - After deciding that the EU would take the lead and act in concert, the member states then tore up Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" and started playing their own tunes. It has been a disastrous cacophony. I would imagine there’s quiet satisfaction in Madrid that no one important is rushing to recognise the new ‘independent’ state. Roll on the new EU Foreign Minister. Or whatever specious title the job is given to disguise intentions and smooth ruffled feathers.

Two young ladies got off the overnight bus from Madrid to Pontevedra this morning - my elder daughter, in her loose clothes and trainers, and a Latina in skin-tight, drainpipe jeans and stiletto heels. Il faut suffrir . . .

Outside places like industrious Bilbao, Barcelona and even Madrid, Spanish life revolves around the three-hour meal break from – roughly – 1.30 to 4.30. The dead hour, as I refer to it, with truly impressive imprecision. This has its pluses – it’s a fantastic time to view the architecture of Spain’s great cities and the best time to venture onto the road. But, generally speaking, it’s a bloody nuisance to those of us used to a different timetable. Which apparently comprises everyone in the world apart from the Spanish. Even the Portuguese and other allegedly lazy Latins. But the people whom it hits hardest, I suspect, are the lower paid Spanish workers who fall foul of a split timetable and who, as a result, put in a long day. OK, no one could claim that Spanish productivity is the highest in the world but some people here work very hard and very long. So, I wasn’t too surprised to see this week a demonstration outside the hypermarket of Galicia’s biggest supermarket group in favour of ‘a continuous [8 hour] day’. All strength to their elbows and placards but I fancy it will be a while yet before things change much. Perhaps the economic downturn will accelerate things a little. Vamos a ver.

Talking about different cultures, I was amused to read these comments this morning about the current British scene - A great deal of what is now wrong with our economy and financial system - too much debt, neurotic banks and a crumbling housing market - was caused by the simple failure of starry-eyed shoppers, credulous investors, irresponsible lenders and reckless borrowers to ask themselves if what they were doing would pass the commonsense test. Much of it did not. Now, I of course regularly say I live here because Spain is less insane than the UK - very largely because of a more-pragmatic, less politicised take on life. Asked about it, I would’ve said there was vastly more common sense here than in the UK. But then I think about the greed, stupidity and downright dishonesty of the construction boom and begin to wonder. Or as the writer went on to say - This phenomenon is not restricted to the United Kingdom. In most parts of the world where speculation is rife, common sense is hard to find. He then specifically cites the ludicrously over-hyped building projects on Spain’s south coast. And he ends with the manifestly true observation that Common sense is like cod liver oil: we know it's good for us but find ways to avoid it. We prefer instant gratification, conspicuous consumption and get-rich-quick schemes, the seduction of what Alexander Pope identified as "lucre's sordid charms". As JK Galbraith wrote, it is often only after a crash that we discover the “severe mental and moral deficiencies of those once thought endowed with genius”.

Which reminds me, one of the big-wigs of the PP party – responsible for the risible conspiracy theories around the Madrid bombings – has left to join the board of Telefonica for a million euros a year. Which is small change to them. The nicest comment I saw on this was a cartoon referring to the money as a tarifazaplana. Apologies to those who don’t get this.

And my congratulations to those who got out when they were still geniuses. But commiserations to those who got in late or who stayed too long. I fancy you are the more numerous. But it’s never too late to learn common sense. Though it helps to have experience. Which usually means age. One of the few compensations.

End of patronising lecture.

And to leave you – or at least me – with a smile . . . Almost anything can be made to sound virtuous if cloaked in greenery - eco-friendly terrorism, perhaps, or low-energy land mines, or carbon-neutral ethnic cleansing. Over-use of "sustainable" is itself unsustainable, depleting it of natural meaning. Orwell would have had fun.