Talking
of dogs . . . I've long believed the tufted Mexican hairless dog was
the ugliest canine in the world. But walking past the pet-shop down
in the mall today I clocked two Shar Pei
puppies and now I'm not so sure. Both breeds are testament to man's
genius for distorting nature.
Outside
the new Castellón airport – the one that's never seen any planes –
there's a small vanity project – a statue of the (crooked)
politician who drove the project. One señor Fabra. The sculptor –
who's an odd tyke – was, naturally, an old friend of Fabra and was
paid 300,000 euros for his pile of junk. He complained it cost him
800,000. Which is not exactly credible. Mr Fabra, by the way, looks
like an archetypical politician of the Franco era, with slicked back
hair and a permanently-worn pair of shades. In fact, he's even
painted wearing them in a picture behind his desk. Or I should say
ex-desk.
Talking
of politicians . . . I've mentioned that the current Ministress of
Health is accused of accepting gifts to the value of tens of
thousands of euros. Her response has been that a judge considered
these accusations a couple of years ago and 'archived' the case. What she failed
to add was that this was only because the offences were proscribed,
having taken place more than 5 years previously. President Rajoy has insisted she's staying in her job because she's doing it wonderfully. Politicians don't resign for trifles in Spain. And everything
seems to be just a trifle.
Yesterday
I went to a snooty jewellers in Vigo, to collect my Omega watch after
its servicing and repair. You'll understand this watch is of great
sentimental value when I say this cost me 150 euros. Just as it did
three years ago, when I last had this done. Frankly, I'm pretty sure
this is the standard price, even if they just squirt a bit of oil
into the works. And that, if I went in on Monday with my freshly
serviced watch, they'd duly phone me in a week or two with an
estimate of 150 euros. And they'd later give a little plastic bag
containing the 5 parts they'd replaced. As they've done on both
occasions so far. Nice business.
On
my way to the jewellers I had to cross a wide road via a zebra
crossing. You know what's coming. I negotiated the first half safely
but as I walked from the middle a white van which could easily have
stopped chose to swerve round me instead. As the driver's window was
open, I took the opportunity to swear loudly at him. But I rather
doubt that “Arsehole!” meant very much to him. I should, of
course, have shouted “Cabrón!”. Or at least “Gilipolla!”.
Does this really only happen to me?
Finally
. . . The Shi'ite Muslim Alawite sect is the dominant group in Syria,
despite being only 12% of the population. And it's to this sect that
President Assad belongs. It believes in re-incarnation but in rather
a strange way. A very bad man risks coming back as a woman. In
contrast, a very good woman stands no chance at all of returning as a
man. Go figure, as they say across the Pond.
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