A
character in the UK comedy series Benidorm this week uttered
the line: It's not my fault if the Spanish have a fiesta
every time the mayor farts. I
was reminded of this yesterday when I walked past a large beer tent
in Plaza de España
erected in honour of St. bloody Patrick. Patricio
in Spanish, by the way. I would have said 'marquee' for tent but this
would have confused US readers, for whom this means an advertising hoarding, not a tent.
British
readers will know that my city of Liverpool is the butt of many
jokes, even from Scouse comedians. I mention this because some poor
chap has just been sentenced to jail in Barcelona for committing –
wait for it – Catalanophobia. Click here for details
of this insane example of where nationalism and an obsession with
racism can take you. We are now, it seems, expected to see Catalans
as a different race from the rest of us. And a very sensitive one,
obviously. I suspect it won't be long before the Scottish
Nationalists strike a similar attitude. Well, the nuttier ones
anyway.
Not
a lot of readers will know that Christopher Columbus was not
only Spanish but was actually born right here in Poio, a stone's
throw from my house. Where there's now a museum in what is said to be
his birthplace. Well, in the modern extension of it. One supporter of
this theory will be giving a paper at an upcoming congress The International History of Paper In the Iberian Peninsula[!] to be held in Santa Maria de Feira in Portugal. So confident
are the upholders of the theory that they're insisting 2017 will be
'the year of the Spanish Columbus'. Vamos a ver.
It's
good to know that – by hook and by crook – all our local
authorities are now taking more in taxes than they did before
the crisis of 2008. A good example of a spur to creativity, assisted
by a total lack of principles.
Returning
to the theme of electricity prices . . . I've now applied for
a discount of 25% on my electricity bills and wait to see which of
the several documents I've had to supply is inadequate. I suspect the
copy of my empadronamiento certificate, dated 2010. Meanwhile,
I can advise that a recent circular from Gas Natural Fenosa offered
me 2 options which they said would benefit me, while somehow failing
to mention the one I'm now applying for. To be fair, I see it is
cited in small print on the last page of their (totally
incomprehensible) bills.
Finally . . . My
Dutch friend – yes, I stoop that low – agrees with that old
buffoon, Alfie Mittington, that's it's all my fault that people bump
into me and that it's never happened to him. Maybe this is because,
whereas I walk 40-50 minutes every day on the streets of both new and
old Pontevedra, he - shall we just say - doesn't. Anyway, yesterday I
noted these stats when walking across the bridge into and out of
Pontevedra:-
IN
This were the actions
of the 8 people coming the other way:-
Started to take
evasive action 3 or more metres before meeting – 3
Started to take
evasive action 1 metre from me – 1
Took no evasive
action at all – 4 (50%)
To be fair, one of the
last 4 - like me - did do the traditional shoulder dip and
pas-de-deux as we met and brushed against each other. But the
other 3 – for whatever reason – would had walked straight into
me, if I hadn't moved abruptly sidewards.
OUT
Only 2 meetings.-
Started to take
evasive action 3 or more metres before meeting – 1
Took no evasive
action at all – 1 (50%)
Seems pretty conclusive
to me. But I'm sure both my Dutch friend and Alfie Mittington will
find fault with the research – which I will repeat today – and
continue to insist they're right. I'm beginning to suspect Alfie
Mittington has some Dutch blood. They are a stubborn people, in my –
admittedly limited – experience of them. Final note on this . . .
My impression is that women are more likely to take evasive action
than men. Perhaps not surprisingly.
I'm thinking of putting
my theory to the ultimate test next week – by walking the bridge
with a white stick.
Today's cartoon:-
I'VE ALWAYS HATED CHRISTMAS |
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