A Spanish blogger recently quoted my oft-stated view that life in Spain is more sane than in the UK. This morning I was stimulated by an article in a British newspaper to the thought that, whereas Spain still has its soul, the UK seems to have lost the one it had when I was rather younger. And not yet found another one. But then it struck me that, given the nationalist aspirations of several regions here, it might be more accurate to say that Spain has not one but several souls. Some of which might well fly off during the decades to come. If Madrid and Brussels allow it.

Talking of respective cultures, my younger daughter commented over our Sunday squid lunch that I behaved in a rather Spanish way when I was in the UK. She was, I'm sure, referring to my driving. Especially as she added "When in Rome, do as the Barbarians." This wasn't, of course, a comment on the Spanish as a people. Or at least not on the vast majority who don't drive like imbeciles.

If you were sitting in an airport this morning and picked up the Voz de Galicia, you might have wished you hadn't. The first eight pages were all about flight disasters. And there was a chart showing which airlines most frequently disregarded safety regulations. The worst was said to be Air Plus Comet. As my elder daughter had just switched from this company to BA for a Christmas flight to Argentina, I was able to read this with rather more equanimity than might otherwise have been the case.

Galicia

With the regional elections probably closer than we think, the conservative PP seems to be aiming to attract back those voters who deserted to the socialist PSOE four years ago and who might not be over-happy about the way things have since gone under the socialist-nationalist coalition. In an interview in El País today, the President of the Galician PP is quoted as saying "In Galicia, we're facing the start of a language conflict which could take hold of [enquistarse] certain layers of society and make a deep impression on [calar] them." The President of the nationalist BNG must have had advance notice of these gnomic utterances for, at a folk music event yesterday, he got his defence in first. He accused those who say Spanish is being persecuted in Galicia of dealing in a sort of linguistic racism which won't be tolerated. I'd better quote this for those who write to say I don't know diddly squat about Gallego - Unha sorte de racismo linguístico que non estamos dispostos a tolerar. He went on to say that supporting traditional song and dance customs was the best defence against those responsible for starting 'false language wars'. Which had me thinking of battalions of English Morris dancers going up against the Scottish hordes.

But on to less weighty matters . . . I recently mentioned the three brothels in my barrio of Poio, just along the main road through what is regarded here as Columbus's birthplace. Well, I had reason to drive past these yesterday, in search of something to ride. Specifically, a mountain bike. So, I snapped all of them for your delectation.

The first one you come to is Erotika, which plays a little fast and loose with the unwritten rule that these places must either be painted pink or have flashing neon signs in this colour. It used to be called Le Clé, which was presumably somebody's attempt to give it some French class.

A few hundred metres down the road, there's a hugely-signposted turn to the nearby Motel Venus. Which also pays only lip service to the colour rules. Notice the little window, where - as I saw - one stops to pay before they open the gate into the car park. This has the statutory high walls around it so that no one can recognise your car. Though I suspect few people would care in this culture of acceptance of whatever goes. It's good to see the place is flying the Galician, Spanish, European and [?]Italian flags. Perhaps there was a delegation in town.

And here's the sadly named The Factory Girls, which used to be The Xanadu. And, before that, The Playboy Club . For reasons unknown, this place completely ignores the rule about colour. Incidentally, there's no reason to believe it has anything to to do with the chap who owns the bar next door, just because he's a Liverpool supporter. In fact, I know it doesn't.


Incidentally, last week a truck drove into the wall of the Erotika club. Possibly a dissatisfied customer. Luckily, the air-conditioning unit wasn't damaged. Which must have been a relief to the ladies working there.


Finally . . . Down at the roundabout near A Barca bridge, you have the option to use a slip road to the right when you want to drive through Poio. Or you do if there isn't a car parked on it. Or five cars yesterday. As you can see, this can also involve blocking a zebra crossing.


Don't you just love that Spanish individualismo . . .