The slogan on the side of the victorious Spanish team’s open-top bus in Madrid yesterday was Impossible is nothing. I’m guessing what was meant was Nothing is impossible. If so, you’d think they could have afforded to pay a proper translator.

Going back to Sunday’s final – It was nice to see the goalkeeper – Iker Casillas [‘Cass-ee-arse’ to at least one British commentator] – ignoring protocol to hug the king and kiss the queen. Can’t see Lizzie tolerating such lèse majesté. Even less Prince Philip.

Last word on the footie – Reader Sienna has posted an interesting comment to yesterday’s blog on the link between football and sex in Spain. Or, rather, the lack of it. Well worth a look.

Absolutely the last word on the footie – Spanish fans on Sunday apparently made a lot less noise than the Germans. At least until towards the end. For one thing, there were rather fewer [not ‘less’!] of them. For another, the Spanish are said to lack a tradition of singing songs in unison at matches. Am I stretching things to see this as yet another example of Spanish individualismo?

There’s been a bit of a controversy in recent months over a decision to scrap cheaper overnight electricity. You know you’re dealing with a de facto monopoly when your provider not only completely ignores your concern over this but also announces that it’s, firstly, significantly increasing your unit cost and, secondly, moving to monthly billing. All that said, my impression is the price increases are less than those in the rather freer and more competitive UK market. So I guess the government is providing subsidies. As well as effectively taking all the decisions.

Talking of socialist governments, I read that, both in Venezuela itself and in South America as a whole, President Chavez is losing key support. Which makes it all the more odd that this madman has been invited to visit Spain by President Zapatero. Perhaps he will save governmental blushes by finding he has prior engagements. And other priorities. Saving his skin, for example.

Galicia Facts

Picking up the theme of the first paragraph . . . One of the brochures I collected yesterday was for Sports and Active Tourism in Pontevedra province. On the front cover there’s a picture of a racing yacht and the slogan Come and treat yourself to being swept away. Which is an enticing thought. Inside, you’re introduced to the sports - new to me - of Bugee Jumping and Sky Bus (also known as banana). No wonder the covers stresses that Pontevedra is an ExCitIng Province. With, as you know, the cheapest flats of all Spain in its capital city.

I amused the waitresses in my regular café-bar yesterday by suggesting I was planning to adopt one of the ludicrous outfits featured in El Mundo as being fashionable. When I asked the head barman which one he favoured, he retorted ‘None of them. They all look like poufs to me!’ I have, of course, reported him to the relevant Spanish authority. Which I take to be the Ministress of Equality.

Finally – Was the European Championship such a feast of good football not only because the number of teams was limited but also because England weren’t there to dilute the quality of it? I only ask.