Today I made my regular attempt to find out from the Traffic Dept. web page how many points I've lost in the last 5 years. As usual, I was told - after giving my ID and licence dates - I wasn't a registered driver. So I spent 10-15m trawling the site and elsewhere for info on how to do get registered. Then I gave up and decided to do it face-to-face, in time-honoured Spanish fashion. Down at the Trafico offices, there were notices everywhere saying no one should think of proceeding without an appointment. But I ignored these and eventually found myself in front of one of the clerks:
Hola. I can't find out how to register on the DGT page, so I can't get details of my points.
You just need to go to the page and the Points section and then give your details.
I've done that. Several times. But I'm repeatedly told my car isn't registered.
Give me your details.
[Takes my licence and spends 10 minutes going through the same iterations as me. Is joined by a colleague, who proffers advice.]
Listen, leave it; it's not so important.
[Another 5 minutes of futile effort on their part]
Look, there's lots of people behind me now. Forget it. I don't really need it.
Don't worry about them.
[Another 5 minutes]
Look, please give me my licence back and forget it. I appreciate your help.
And all of this without getting a prior appointment.
I see that fingerprint technology is now being used to prove identity in the UK. I guess we'll have it here soon as well. But I predict I'll still be asked to provide my ID. Even for a €5 purchase.
No sooner was it in power than the current Spanish government scrapped the tripartite discussions set up by the previous administration in respect of Gibraltar. After 4 years of counter-productive confrontation, a new body has been set up, comprising Spain, Britain, Gibraltar, Brussels and 2 other members I can't remember. Which doesn't really sound like progress but is better than nothing.
During the summer, Spain had a record number of tourists and record tourism income. A great deal of this came from Brits, all 12.3m of them. Presumably they didn't all jump off hotel balconies, binge to unimaginable levels and commit sex acts in public. Though you might get that impression from the Spanish media.
Finally . . . An odd experience this evening. A blind young man passed my table and, with his stick, negotiated his way around a chair at the next table. But he then caught his trailing foot on a second chair. Then, as he walked on, he did what you and I would do and looked back at the offending chair leg. Sightlessly.