What’s in a word? The British prime minister is, of course, David Cameron. In Spanish, his surname would be spelled with an accent on the first syllable, as Cámeron. But on the radio today, I heard him called Camarón. Which means ‘shrimp’. Or ‘prawn’, if you’re American.
Talking of words . . . The English ‘standing’ has been absorbed into Spanish as estanding. As in alto estanding, meaning ‘high status’ or something similar. Today I heard someone describe certain crimes as de alto estanding? Can this really be a general use?
Back to the cajas . . . A year or so ago, the Spanish government established a fund (the FROB) to help the country’s savings banks re-structure themselves out of near-bankruptcy. This week it’s reported they’ve not exactly been using the money for this purpose. Who’d have thought it? But, anyway, this might help to explain why the predicted mergers in this troubled sector haven’t yet taken place.
You’ll all be asking whether they were working on the building site behind my house today. Or taking yet another day because Tuesday was
’s National Day. To be honest, I don’t know. I set off for lunch with my Dutch friend Peter at the early-for-Spain hour of 11.15 and only got back at 7.45. But the good news is that my plumber tells me he, at least, will be working tomorrow. Hopefully at my house. Spain
So, Solomon Burke has passed on. He took part in our Jazz and Blues Festival four years ago, when his gigantic size meant he had to be hoisted into the armchair in the middle of the stage by a small crane. It was good to see a fulsome obituary in the Spanish press. But poor Norman Wisdom is still waiting for his.
Finally . . . I am really the only person in the world who’s not remotely interested in reading the profiles of all the Chilean miners and who’s not planning to attend a film of their experiences? More seriously, can anyone really feel confident they’ll be able to hand the “10 to 100 million pounds” said to be coming their way? For them, I fear, life has suddenly got much better and much worse simultaneously. Still I imagine they’re happier about this than being with Norm and Sol.
Tailnote for new readers: Exciting news. The first eight chapters of my daughter’s novel can now be read and/or downloaded in pdf form, for easy reading. It’s a “Fast-paced political thriller but, above all, a personal tale of pride and paranoia.” Set in a fictionalised
, it’s being e-published at the rate of at least a couple of chapters a week. If this entices you, click here. Cuba