All
the reports on the appalling events in Rotherham in the UK stress
they'd long been covered up because of a fear of being accused of
racism. Well, up to a point. What people were really concerned about,
I'm sure, was losing their jobs and their income after being accused
of being racist. Like the brave headmaster of a school in Bradford 30 years
ago.
Which
reminds me . . . Islam was born out of tribal rivalries in the Middle
East in the 7th century. One could be forgiven for believing this is
what it's regressing to. But with rather better weapons to hand. Contrast
things with the 14th century. As Justin Marozzi writes: "The
Europe of Temur's time, in Muslim eyes at least, was little more than
a barbaric backwater. Church and state were divided and weak. The age
of imperial adventure had expired, not to be revived until the late
15th century. Edward the Black Prince might have cut a dashing figure
on the battlefields of Europe but the Islamic world scarcely
registered this sorry land of the infidel. The real treasures of
conquest were not to be found in what the Koran referred to as the
dar el harab (the abode of war), home of the unbelievers. They
lay in the East. As Bernard Lewis wrote: 'For the medieval Muslim,
from Andalucia to Persia, Christian Europe was still an outer world
of darkness of barbarism and unbelief, from which the sunlit world of
Islam had little to fear and less to learn.'" How things have
changed.
There
is, apparently, such a thing as a 'clandestine restaurant', also
called a 'supper club' or a 'pop-up restaurant'. We even have at
least one in Pontevedra, though - appropriately - I don't know where
it is. Some of these are legal and some aren't. They're sited in
unusual places - such as a flat - but may well be just another ruse for
generating specious exclusivity and, so, higher prices. I'm told by
the owner of of our local contender that I have to get 9 people
together before I can book a table. So it may be some time before I
can check it out.
Life
in Spain: I had a doctor's appointment this evening, just to get
my prescription renewed. It was for 18.56 (yes, 56) and I got to see
him - for less than 3 minutes - at 19.25. Of the 8 people who went in
before me, one was someone who arrived, asked everyone what time
their appointments were, said he was a friend of the doctor and then
proceeded to walk straight in without waiting for the latter to call
a name. No one seemed either surprised or annoyed by this blatant
queue-jumping. Así son las cosas. Given the chance, they'd
all do the same. Me, I just read my book or listened to a podcast.
Anyone who goes about without one or both of these in Spain is a
fool.
Anyway,
here's another English 'phrase du jour': 'To drill down'. This
seems to mean to look at or to investigate. Essential in all business
reports. Until the next phrase comes along.
Finally
. . . I am now sadly bereft of visitors. But the last to depart did
so in true British style - with the mother of all hangovers. I felt
rather sorry for him as he boarded the train for Santiago, with an
hour's journey ahead of him, plus more than 2 hours at the airport
before his flight. And that was before take-off was delayed for a
further 2 hours. But, hey, you reap what you sow. A lesson I finally
learned when I was rather older than my young guest. So time and its
wisdom are on his side. Meanwhile, he was surely able to get some
hair of the dog at the airport.
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