Passenger numbers through Galicia’s three small, would-be international airports last year were way down on 2007 with Vigo showing the biggest drop, at 26 %. I thought of this when I made the three-hour round trip to Oporto in Portugal this morning so that my daughter could fly to Liverpool, rather than to one of London’s inconvenient airports. I suspect Hell will freeze over before the Xunta gets its act together and overrules parochial and self-defeating local rivalries. By which time it will be far too late for everyone in at least southern Galicia.
Talking of flying . . . My two adult daughters separately asked me this week for a nail file and tweezers. This, of course, is because these are now classed as dangerous weapons. Or that’s what they told me, at least.
When I was in the UK recently, it was impossible to find a private wi-fi connection unprotected by a password. In contrast, I have at least 5 neighbours here who don’t bother to secure their connection. I wonder what this says about the respective cultures
Dining on seafood in Praza de La Leña today, I noticed that all of the women at the next table were smoking, whereas none of the men were. This, I suspect, is not totally unrepresentative of modern Spain. Where ‘sophistication’ can come in some strange forms
My congratulations to any reader other than my old friend Rick in New Orleans who realised that this location was a major break with Sunday tradition.