As computers have got progressively smaller and smartphones bigger, we appear to have reached the point where the hardware of choice is one of the latter. Except for we touch-typists who'll never use anything without a decent-sized keyboard. Which makes a netbook the absolute minimum. But the risk is that history - or technology - will leave us behind and we'll have to learn to finger-type on touch-sensitive screens. God forbid. Apple are now saying they've got 'game-changers' in the pipeline and one can only shudder at what these might be. Meanwhile, the good news is that you can now get an i-pad for as little as 50 dollars, in the States at least. Hard to believe that one of Apple's innovations will beat this.
Talking technology - 54% of Spaniards were found to have broken up with someone they'd been dating for less than three months by using WhatsApp. 12% had opted for a phone conversation to end the relationship and a cowardly 3% confessed to simply ending communication. Only 23% broke up in person. Who said romance was dead?
I went to get my blood pressure done today. The nurse and I found we lived in the same barrio of Poio but when she learned I lived up the hill, whereas she lived at the bottom, she remarked with a smile that I was up among the khetset. Which I finally figured out was the jet-set. "But there are some nice people up there", she added. Which was consoling.
Finally . . . As we entered Santiago last Saturday afternoon, one of us was in need of a pee, or a drink. Or both. So we stopped in the San Lázaro barrio of the city, and sat down outside a bar next to a conference centre. After going inside to order, I told my 4 lady companions there was a large table of lovely young women there, all of whom had smiled at me. I said there were only two possibilities - that they'd mistaken me for George Clooney or there was a convention of prostitutes taking place nearby. Sadly, they all went for the whore option. Earlier, I'd told the ladies I'd been involved in a documentary about the shipwrecking of a British ship along the Galician coast in the 19th century, in which I'd played the part of the captain. "Who? Captain Birdseye?", they chorused. Which left me a tad deflated.