Well, we called the Poio Turismo at its opening time of 10.30 this morning and were impressed to find there was someone there. Could we visit the Columbus museum, I asked. Only if you are a group. Does two constitute a group? No, it doesn't. Well, what's the minimum? Ten. Ten!? Yes, ten . . . . This afternoon, I spoke to the lovely Ester next door about her and her family getting together with us to form a group of ten. Possibly, she said. But not to visit the Columbus museum. She'd been to see it with her youngest child and it was a complete waste of time. So that's that. But here's the web page of the place, in case you want to see what 460,000 euros buys you here in Poio. And how ugly it is. As for me, I'm losing confidence that Columbus was actually born here. Which has been one of the main reasons I've stayed . . .
Another visit to MoviStar(Telefónica) this morning, to try to compete the process of getting ADSL and wi-fi in my house. There was some progress but I have to go back at 8 this evening to pick up the keet(modem). This will be my fourth and, hopefully, final visit to the shop. But at least it's better than waiting at home for a delivery of the keet that never happens.
To complete my 'shopping expeditions', I took a spare butane gas cylinder (bombona) to the local petrol station. This is because these act as distributors.
Could I leave this with you?
Sure. You want a replacement?
No, I just want to leave it as I don't need it. Is there a deposit on it?
Well, yes, but we can't give it to you.
We can only take your empty one if you replace it with a full one.
So, how can I can rid of this one?
You have to take it to the main warehouse.
Up in the hills, near O Vao.
If you think I'm exaggerating this (usually) pleasant but useless customer service, click here to see how my Vigo friend Anthea got on with buying bus tickets yesterday.
A new word for my (English) list – hurdul(hurdle). And one for my Spanish list – tuit. Or 'tweet'. Apart from keet(kit), of course
Some good news - Thirty-six years after his death, the city of Valencia has decided that it's no longer appropriate for Franco to be an honorary mayor. Valiant Valencia.
Finally, and in more serious vein . . . In so far as I understand it, the current Eurozone situation is that, having promised they'd do anything and everything to save the euro, the European Central Bank has made it a precondition that Italy and Spain prostrate themselves and beseech – if not beg – the bank to bail them out. Leading today's El País cartoonist to show President Rajoy with his head in his hands, above the caption - “Just a minute; we're searching for euphemisms.” Does the president of the ECB not understand Latin culture? Is he not aware that, having been occupied for more than 700 years by people whose culture stemmed from the Middle east, the Spanish regard 'face' as more than marginally important? Is their any real need to rub their noses in the mud? Is this how they address the issue of 'moral hazard'? I guess we'll see.
Meanwhile, poor Mr Rajoy is being crushed between the demands of Spain's would-be creditors, on one side, and his obstreperous regions, on the other. They may have been profligate for a few years but are not prepared to face the music. If the president really is ill, it would hardly be surprising. He is, of course, only one president among 18. Would you want the job?