Dawn

Dawn

Friday, December 27, 2019

Thoughts from Pontevedra, Galicia, Spain: 27.12.19

Spanish life is not always likeable but it is compellingly loveable.
            Christopher Howse: A Pilgrim in Spain
The Spanish Economy and Politics
  • Forbes Magazine here gives its view of Spain's 5 major political and economic challenges.
  • To my comments of yesterday on the light - if any - sentences given to politicians and businessmen here, I'd add that the Prime Minister has the capacity to issue pardons as he/she sees fit. Plus there are thousands of officials here who can't be tried in normal courts. Spain has some catching up to do in this area.
Spanish Life
  • Which reminds me . . . Pharmacists on Spain belong to something like a medieval guild in England. Needless to say, this assists restrictions on trade which - as intended - reduce competition. I thought of this yesterday when trying, in Madrid, to get the generic version of a product which has been on the market for at least 40 years; all 3 of the places I tried could only offer me the branded version, at more than twice the price of the generic. So, I'll keep on trying in Pontevedra.
  • Some topical advice.
  • In my Xmas Day list of aperçus from John Haycraft's 1958 book Babel in Spain, I missed out these:-
SPAIN
My work enabled me to learn something about the wealthier citizens in town; the sons and daughters of local businessmen, landowners and doctors. I had a large class of 22, most of whom came for lack of anything else to do. They belonged to a social group which never really needed to do any serious work and which produced the worst kind of student: sometimes slightly patronising, usually lazy, very difficult to keep quiet. Being adult pupils, they expected to behave as they liked in class but were the first to blame one for not disciplining them so that they could learn English.

There is a flamboyant romanticising of the past which often makes one feel that Spaniards are still living in their great age. It is true to the spirit of the 'generation of 1898', which pointed to the past only to emphasise the level to which the country had sunk.

Spaniards usually regard foreigners as guests in their home and want to put them most at ease when they appear embarrassed.

After the novelty has worn off, most bull-fights are, in fact, surprisingly dull. [A sentiment with which I wholeheartedly concur]

ANDALUCIA
In Andalucia, time is different; it passes in jerks, and one moment usually has nothing to do with the next.
  • In Iran, the custom is to offer something admired - however expensive - to the admirer. And the polite thing is to refuse it, with profuse thanks. This has its echo in this sentence from Haycraft: The courteous response to an expression of admiration for anything is "It is yours", while the accepted way of greeting someone who interrupts a meal is to ask "Would you like some?". In the last 2 cases, the gesture is a formality, unless repeated insistently, but if accepted literally, pride prevents withdrawal.
  • I'm no expert on the conventions of the complex world of Spanish swearing and cursing. Hence my confusion at the fact that my daughter's partner says joder (fuck) and coño (cunt) every 10 minutes in front of his 5 year old daughter but draws the line at mierda (shit). 
  • There are new(ish) security arrangements for long-distance train journeys at Madrid's Chamartin station. For all of these - except for trains leaving from platform 14 - you have to put your stuff through the machines. The train to Vigo and Pontevedra always goes from said platform 14 and has its own machine. I guessed that this is why it's excepted from the normal arrangements. Or I did until I got down to the platform, put my bag in the mouth of the machine and was told not to bother as they weren't operating it this time. Maybe folk travelling to Galicia aren't seen as likely terrorists. Or maybe it was broken. Or maybe it's just the arbitrariness of life in Spain and there's no answer to the conundrum.
Galician Life  
  • Fish and seafood prices this Xmas were 9% up on November's and 35% up on 2015. Are people being ripped off?. And, if so, can they do anything about it? By the way, the biggest increase this Xmas over last year was 46% for besugo, which is the (black spotted?) sea bream.
  • The good news is that, over the year as a whole, salaries rose by 1.9% but inflation by only 1.1%. Assuming accuracy.
  • A local newspaper this morning advises that in 2020 Galicia will be betting on Smart wine tourism. Why it chose to illustrate the article with a backside view of a young female camino 'pilgrim' walking between vines I can only guess.
The Way of the World 
  • See the article below for The 13 signs you were really modern in 2019. In the UK, at least. Apologies if it doesn't make much sense to the rest of you.
  • And here's more on the trick I mentioned the other day.
Spanish 
  • Words of the Day:  Bisutería: Costume jewellery. Catenaria: Overhead line
  • Phrase of the Day:  Al raso: In the open. Under the stars.
English
  • To spall: To break rock, ore or stone into smaller pieces.
Finally
  • Training down to Madrid on the 22nd, I was surprised to find myself alone in a sleeping compartment for 4. No such luck last night, when there were 4 of us, including at least one snorer. Worse, the train broke down a couple of hours from Pontevedra and we spent a long time stationery in Ourense station. Before eventually being obliged to get off and take another train. We arrived at Pontevedra station an hour and aa half late. Such are the ups and downs of life. But roll on the competition for RENFE!
THE ARTICLE

The 13 signs you were really modern in 2019: Shane Watson

How Modern Were You in 2019? Did your life reflect the times or were you a bit out of step and trailing behind? So hard to know sometimes if we’re in sync with the important aspects of modern life, so, here’s some of what counted in 2019, to refresh your memory:

Being eco-shamed
This was the year of Greta Thunberg, Extinction Rebellion and Flygskam - Swedish for flight shame, as in the guilt experienced when travelling by plane because of the carbon footrpint. Flygskam was the only eco-related shame that had its own word, so far as we know, but shame and shaming was definitely the tone of the new eco awareness.

Last year you could still sort of dip in and dip out; recycle most of the time, then hop on a jetski and tuck into the single use plastics. This year you had to ask where is it from and where is that going? You had to have a water bottle and a Keep Cup and then you had to ask, should I take the train? Do I need a car? That new dress, is it necessary or shall I borrow one pre-worn by Lady Theresa Manners? Have I got too many children? Almost a quarter of daters said that eco awareness was their deal breaker non negotiable for a prospective partner. So, things moved on.

This year you had to like certain things, partly because we’ve started to take all sorts of things like (mainly) TV very seriously but also because of the slide into zero tolerance for other people’s taste and POV. In previous years you could easily have got away with thinking Killing Eve was a bit overrated, but this year you had to make damn sure you were fully on board with the GTLL and no exceptions. We are talking unconditional adoration for Fleabag, and all things Phoebe Waller Bridge; Margaret Atwood; Sally Rooney; The Favourite (OMG Olivia Colman, we Love her); Emily Maitlis. Possibly there were some men on the GTLL, we forget.

We embraced the new casual 
A photograph of the Queen emerged, hands thrust in the pockets of her dress and, although it wasn’t a new picture, it cemented the idea that casual is now the acceptable Norm. We’re talking about going shoeless indoors. We’re talking about exercisewear anywhere, and eating anywhere (even a boiled egg on a train), and getting a wax anywhere (say the forecourt of Clapham Junction Station) and feeling no compulsion to trim your beard, let alone shave. It’s all one way from here.

We got flip flopism
You started the year a Remainer and ended it a Leaver, or started it a Tory and ended it a Lib Dem; you started out a Royalist and ended up feeling betrayed; you became convinced by the vegan cause and then discovered veganism could destroy the planet faster than meat eating. There were a lot of examples of strong positions taken, then abandoned, then taken up again.

Naturally this was combined with last year’s very modern habit of ‘virtue signalling’, or having the endorsed opinion of the day and making a point of letting everyone know as often as possible. We are hoping that in 2020 it will become normal to be able to say: "Can I stop you there? I know exactly what you’re going to say. Shall we just assume you’ve flagged your membership of The Virtuous People and move on?"

We got sloaney
Fashion didn’t call it that - Seventies bourgeois chic and Eighties Glamour are more appealing as labels - but suddenly designers were referencing the Young Princess Anne and the Post Snowden Princess Margaret and honeymoon era Princess Di but also her Serpentine Gallery party period. Sheer tights were a thing again and Carrie Symonds only ever appeared in a demure, high-necked midi dress and fat hairband that would not have looked out of place on a Montessori nursery school teacher circa 1980.

And we (almost) all got Miss Piggy eyelashes 
This has to have been – please God – the year of peak Piggy eyelashes. Now everyone under the age of 80, post mistresses, paramedics, personal trainers - has lash perms, or lash lifts, if not the full lash extensions. It’s taken off like Ugg Boots but why we have no idea. When you look at someone and think ‘Ooh, yikes… that reminds me a bit of the laughing cow’ that’s an eyelash perm.

We gave up drink
Last year was all about flexitarianism (being a bit veggie) and reducetarianism (cutting back on meat and dairy) and 2019 has been about Not Drinking. Not necessarily not drinking at all – although there was plenty of that - but drinking ‘mindfully’. You don’t have to be an alcoholic to give up drink any more, you just have to be sober curious and…modern. Not drinking mid week became a thing. Not drinking two days a week (the liver recovery rule) or drinking, but only on special occasions, or not drinking for a month, just as a reboot, all became as normal as avoiding gluten. As of 2019 drinking masses all the time, and at lunch, suddenly looked rather Old School. Certainly to the millenials who are all dating over almond milk lattes.

We all woke up to 'generation different'
Was it after the Tom Bradby interviews with Harry and Meghan in South Africa? Not sure, but this year the penny dropped that those thirtysomethings really are different. When they go to a job interview they want to know what you can offer them. When they get tired they rest. We’d vaguely imagined they’d get a bit less Me and a bit more Us but they’re just doing it differently. It’s not worse it’s just different.

Can't choose, won't choose 
First you have so much choice you find it hard to choose (that was previous years) then you just choose not to choose. Earlier in the year the Booker Prize was shared between two winners, now four artists have been awarded the Turner Prize, together. This stuff is catching. You may find yourself with two Christmas trees this year and that jacket in both colours.

We became pro-modernising the monarchy 
Which is to say slimming it down, cutting loose the most obvious liggers and embarrassments, and moving forwards with a kind of capsule collection based on reliability, functionality, value for money and all round merit. Even if you weren’t a modernizer at the start of the year by November you were positively roaring at the TV: "Charles get to Sandringham and SORT IT OUT. SAVE YOURSELVES AND CUT THE ROPE! CUT THE ROPE." We became totally ruthless to be honest. Have Beatrice’s wedding in a registry office! For example.

Dog pre-nups and dog custody
The new divorce game was, apparently, who can play dirtiest with the dogs. After some wrangling Ant McPartlin was awarded joint custody of his chocolate Labrador with his former partner, and henceforth the dog pre-nup is not a laughing matter.

Meanwhile we were supposed to be moving towards the better brighter divorce where Stepmother’s are called Bonus Mums and it’s not only not bad it can be good but…not sure where we got to with that.

We got amazing TV fatigue
Not with all of it, but let’s face it the things we were obliged to watch and even the things we should probably have been watching started to back up and then a slightly weird thing happened and we went right off the prospect of watching the good stuff.

Strictly was ok, but anything really well reviewed and epic with an eye watering budget and a knock out cast...couldn’t face it. So we never actually got around to watching (trigger warning) David Attenbourgh Seven ContinentsHis Dark MaterialsThe War of the Worlds (I know Unbelievable!) but they just come at you thick and fast. Next thing you know the only thing you are watching is Gold Digger, and that was really for the wallpaper. (Did you check out that wallpaper in Julia Gray’s house in Devon? Not just in the hall but also in the bedrooms and the dining room. Nice).

As in (because it’s the opposite of what we have come to expect) not attempting to disguise your age one little bit. This year we saw some robust let it all hang out behaviour …namely from Kathleen Turner, 62 (‘I don’t look like I did thirty years ago, get over it’) and, more recently, Julia Ormond, 54, who played the 60 year old Julia in Gold Digger, and blew everyone away not least because she looked so real. She’s clearly had no work, put on some weight since her twenties (she might even be the national average size 16, as opposed to the actress average 8 or below), she wore little or no make up, let her hair do its own thing. In other words she looked like a normal (albeit beautiful) fiftysomething woman who isn’t a TV presenter, LA lawyer or similar.

We’re not expecting miracles any day soon (2019 was also the year when 3 out of 4 women had permed curly baby cow eyelashes or three sets of extensions). But it felt New.

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