Corruption
in Spain: Has this dropped off a cliff since the first big trial began
6 years ago or has it continued regardless? If the latter, we'll be reading of
arrests for the next 10 years at least. Unless Podemos gets into power later
this year and the country suddenly becomes whiter than white. This,
though, is looking less and less likely, as the centrist party
Cuidadanos (Citizens) eats into Podemos's support, because it's seen
by angry Spaniards as a less extreme option to the 2 major parties.
Meanwhile,
our own big trial here in Galicia - Pokemon - has reached the point
at which the investigating judge feels able to impute 39 of those arrested.
Needless to say, it's taken years to get here. Which prompts the
question - Could a Spanish judge spend his/her entire
career on just one trial? Jardine v Jardine springs to mind.
Talking of
Dickens . . . It's not often one comes up against someone who's a
character from a novel. But this happened to me on Friday, when I
went back to see the obsequious doctor I cited the other day. He was
worse than before, even following me from his office so he could put
my results in an envelope. And shaking my hand at least twice. Once with both hands. I
wondered whether I was his only patient.
Hard to
believe but in 1970 there were more than 30 MPs in the British parliament - all Labour, of
course - who were ex-miners. The number now? Nil. Everyone's middle class these days.
It's
lamprey season here in southern Galicia. I've long thought about
trying what's said to be the ugliest of fish, and very much an
acquired taste. I saw it offered in a tapas bar here in Pontevedra
yesterday but the price tag of €60 put me off a bit - unless a la
bordalesa means 'smothered in gold leaf'. Though my dictionary gives
bordalesa as 'A wine barrel holding 250 litres', which is an
attractive alternative.
Yesterday afternoon I
spent a pleasant hour or two with Los Porcos Bravos, a group of men
and (a few) women who meet from time to time to enjoy wild boar stew, and quite a few beers.
Once a year the men contest a semi-serious football match with the
Sheffield Stags, either here or in the UK. They start their next tour
of British pubs very shortly, in Newcastle, and I'll meet up with
them again for the match in Sheffield on 22nd March. I would say they're as welcoming
as only Spaniards can be but this would insult them, as they prefer to
be seen as Galicians.
So they should be able
to help me with this Gallego headline from yesterday's Diario de
Pontevedra - A universidade é clave para mudalo todo para sermos
persoas e non penes ou vaxinas. Which seems a little blunt. Google gives it as "The university is the key to change it all to be people and not penalties or vaginas." But I know that penalties isn't right.
Finally . . . We had a
spontaneous fiesta in Pontevedra over the weekend, in honour of last
week's international award to the city for its town planning. This is
undoubtedly deserved but I'm guessing the visiting dignitaries
weren't shown the junction between the old quarter and the main
shopping street where the tarmac was being changed for the 3rd time
in less than a year. Hopefully not by the same company.
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