Awake, for morning in the bowl of night has flung the stone that puts the stars to flight.

And, lo, has caught the sultan’s turret in a noose of light!

Spanish life is not always likeable but it is compellingly loveable: Christopher Howse: ‘A Pilgrim in Spain’

Cosas de España

The victory of the Spanish women’s team yesterday was all the more remarkable for the fact that, because of a dispute with their (apparently very unloved) manager, the team lacked 12 of its best players. This has led one English commentator to write: Spain might be the first side in history to which we say “Congratulations but please fire your coach”. Below are some nice comments from the same writer. Or perhaps another one.

Spanish footnote: Jenni Hermoso, on being kissed on the lips by the president of the Spanish football federation: “I did not enjoy that”. It’s reported to have provoked outrage on social media. Not that that requires much these days.

Social media abounds with misinformation about Spanish visas. So, this might be useful for some. How to stay in Spain for more than 180 days. If you’re not a resident, of course. Not a problem for us lucky ones.

This is an oldish but relevant article on moving from London to nearby Vigo, a city that PTVs* look down on. It’s not true, by the way, that: It’s not very touristy — there’s nobody standing outside a restaurant sticking a menu in your face. For more than 10 years now, the ‘seafood street’ (Rúa Pescasdería) down by the port has been featuring this nuisance. The importuning ladies are now young and attractive, whereas 20 years ago – when the street was nicknamed Rúa das Ostras or Las piedras – there were only stone slabs ‘manned’ by old women. And things were much cheaper. Progress. Driven by the advent of vast cruise ships disgorging thousands of 2-hour tourists who, naturally, don’t stray far from the dock.

• *Pontevedra de Toda la Vida. Provincials. Applied even to fellow residents by – more sophisticated – folk who’ve never moved from here themselves . . .

I took my grandkids to a store shop in Pv city on Saturday, with instructions from their father not to buy them anything made in China. A tough challenge; of the 10 toys I tested at random, 9 were made in China and 1 in Vietnam. So, it was virtually impossible to comply. Which I didn’t.

Italy

A seriously odd defamation case, as the chance of marrying a (revengeful) millionaire goes down the tube . . .

The USA

More wine fraud, allegedly. Involving the relatively recent trend of ageing wine underwater.

Quotes of the Day

• There will always be disordered personalities, egocentric, remorseless and well-disguised. Mercifully psychopaths are very rare, and even more rarely kill, but we are morbidly fascinated by them — groping for background details and explanations like “Munchausen syndrome”. But it’s a waste of time: better leave that to psychiatrists, grieve quietly for the victims and concentrate on more commonplace human failings. From this article.
• Menstruation isn’t just a women’s issue, say the UK’s Lib Dems. Liberalism gone mad.

English

BBL: Among other things, this used to mean Be Back Later. In the Tik-Tok age, it means Brazilian Butt Lift. Or swollen cheeks. A South American male obsession. Frequently seen here in Spain.

The Way of the World

I cited said ‘Brazilian butt lifts’ last night. So, needless to say, my Gmails this morning included one asking me: Sit on your butt too much?

Did you know?

Last week, Ryanair charged a couple more than €60 each to print out boarding cards, after they’d presented their return cards instead of their outgoing cards. My daughter almost had the same experience of this scandalous Ryanair stealth-charge when checking in at Manchester airport 2 months ago. The black bits on the QR of her B&W print-out were ‘too dark’, she was told – meaning she’d have to pay for the printing of a colour one. Back then, the problem was solved but she’s anxious to avoid the same thing happening when she returns to the UK next week. Assuming she can master the Ryanair app on her iPhone and find a colour printer somewhere. We have a few days in which to do this . . . Just in case what’s on her phone isn’t accepted by an employee of that rapacious ‘cheap flights’ company.

Finally . . .

I came across this poem yesterday. Back in the Dark Ages it was something which some of us learned off-by-heart at primary school. . . My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! It’s regarded as Shelley’s most famous poem, and the most enduringly popular poem of the Romantic era. Try telling that to today’s kids!

For new readers:- If you’ve landed here looking for info on Galicia or Pontevedra, try here. If you’re passing through Pontevedra on the Camino, you’ll find a guide to the city there – updated a bit in early July 2023

SPAIN’S VICTORY

Obviously, there was no point at all in Spain winning the World Cup and England would have been far better at winning, had they actually won. But the thing I have always found hard about English football is that English journalists are such poor losers. The minute an England team doesn’t win the World Cup, all of the superlatives which were heaped upon them in the early stages of the competition are rescinded and they become virtual pariahs. Let’s make an exception this time.

Spain were ruthlessly organised, the Masters [Mistresses?] of control and of the dark arts* at the close, slowing the game into a stop – start mess that prevented the Lionesses from getting any rhythm.

• * Hence my reference last night to the practice of falling over, something which my 8 year old half-Spanish stepson was very adept at when I first coached his team in England, some years ago.

Spain are an excellent team. They quite evidently remained an excellent team even after they had been defeated by Japan. England are also an excellent team. They did something no other England team has done since 1966. Both of these statements can be true at the same time, because, unlike football, life is not a zero sum game.

I speak as one who has (late in life) been won over to the beautiful game by this splendid team of valiant women. This is because they play spectacular football. Also, thanks to excellent commentating by their former colleagues, I have gained an understanding of how the game is actually played – something male commentators have never even attempted to provide**.

• ** How very true.  

In addition to a greater appreciation of tactics and strategies, I have come to realise something sports journalists deliberately obscure – if one team is to win, the other must lose.

A final admiring comment from The Times: Spain have pushed the women’s game to new heights. They were a class above. Tight, technical, accurate. England tried to press them high, but – passing out through tiny, meticulous triangles – Spain found a way through the press and, once they were out of it, they were away and dangerous.

Meanwhile, Everton incurred the 2nd loss in 2 games and are already deemed to be heading for relegation next May.

Not a great day, then.