I confessed recently I sometimes feel I'm living in Wonderland. Which is doubtless the lot of expatriates everywhere. The feeling came over me again recently when reading of the upcoming primary elections for the socialist party candidate for the position of mayor of Madrid. Or maybe it was for president of the Madrid autonomous community (i. e. region). These jobs are both currently held by PP party members who are permanently at daggers drawn and I get rather confused about who does what. And who’s got it in for whom. Anyway, I was grateful today for this insight from fellow blogger Graeme, over at South of Watford. Although he’s certainly a man of the Left, my impression is Graeme’s no more impressed by the socialist shenanigans than I am.
Up here in the Pontevedra sticks, there was no mention of yesterday’s funeral parlour demolition in today’s papers. Naturally enough, they were rather more interested in the forest fire which killed two young fire-fighters yesterday. There’s a widespread belief in this conspiracy-oriented part of the world that most of our summer conflagrations are caused by pyromaniacs but I have my doubts. My suspicion is they’re largely down to aged farmers who let their brushwood fires get out of control. Either way, the consequences are always tragic for someone.
Taking my coffee this morning, I noticed that the bus parked outside the café belonged to a company called Viuda de Cándido. Or “Candido’s widow”. I’m aware of a champagne being named after a widow (Veuve Cliquot, as I recall) but not something as prosaic as a bus company. But why not? Anyway, its logo is a fancy VC. So I guess it’s a good job the husband wasn’t called David.