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

And, lo, the hunter of the east 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 war against tourist rentals rages on . . .

• Spain is gearing up to take a bold step in its housing and tourism policy. If passed, a new bill would slap a 21% value-added tax (VAT) on short-term tourist stays under 30 days—more than doubling the 10% rate for hotels. This is a big shift for a country where most tourist home rentals haven’t faced any VAT at all.
• And Mark Stücklin of Spanish Property Insight reports that: The Catalan government has committed to activating a long-anticipated register of “major landlords” – owners of five or more residential properties – as part of a broader political agreement with the radical Left, which also delays the rollout of a new tourist tax until October this year. This must be implemented within 4 months and will allow authorities to enforce higher rates of property transfer tax and to activate compliance mechanisms under Spain’s Housing Law.

A reader claims that the (corrupt?) right-wing judge who’s been investigating the wife of the PM for over a year now owns a house illegally registered as a store(trasero).. However, an AI search fails to endorse this. However . . .It has been reported that he owns a villa that lacks a first occupancy permit and also has a swimming pool built without a permit. Perhaps he shouldn’t be throwing stones.

I doubt that many believe the government is serious in seeking to get Catalan and Galician approved as official EU languages. Apart from consideration of significantly increased costs, there’s entrenched resistance from states who also have minority languages, even without accompanying separatist aspirations.

Reader Noemi has posted on her blog this valuable personal guide to moving to Spain.

What you need to know about rules on driving caravans and mobile homes here in Spain.

Cousas de Galicia

Renfe has installed 15 e-vehicle chargers in the car park of Pv city’s train station. I guess you have to pay to get into this to use them. Or, more accurately, to get out.

Portugal

Opposition to more Spanish bank involvement.

The UK

Lying by politicians isn’t confined to the USA or Spain . . . See this article on the Labour government’s ‘gaslighting’ of the public on immigration.

Trumpworld/LA LA Land

Hardly a surprise . . . Donald Trump has learnt from his mistakes. Only the most loyal are allowed in. From his chief of staff to old business allies, the president has brought more lieutenants and fewer family members into his politburo. . . . Compared to Biden’s politburo, Trump’s approach is closer to Henry VIII. He likes to keep people guessing and his decision is king. “He is absolutely ruthless in pursuing his own interest.” “He thrives on chaos, he likes to keep the people around him guessing and, therefore, even among those who are ultimately, loyal the turnover rate is stratospheric.” The court of Trump is likely to look different before the year is out.

Republicans and the biggest political con of the last century. Quite a read

Trumpism threatens American capitalism but Americans, rich in many things, have a poverty of meaningful political choices.

Quotes of the Day

• The US – perhaps the most self-conscious incarnation of the Enlightenment ideal – has elected a  president who talks like a belligerent twelve-year-old. 
• Like a quack doctor misdiagnosing problems, Trump makes matters worse.

Russia v. Ukraine

Trump has yet to realise that the last thing Putin wants is peace. He needs the war to stay in power.

The Way of the World

I’m guessing that this writer is not the only person who thinks that liberal democracy is dying before our very eyes.

Spanish

• Seitán: Un alimento elaborado principalmente a partir del gluten de trigo, la proteína que se extrae de la harina de trigo al eliminar el almidón mediante lavado con agua. Es conocido como “carne vegetal” por su textura y aspecto similares a la carne animal, y se utiliza como sustituto en dietas vegetarianas y veganas.
• Gordal: A large type of olive from Sevilla?
• Anacardo: Cashew nut

Finally . . .

Bits on lovers, from The Pillow Book. The writer – the lady-in-waiting, Sei Shonagon – seems to have been well versed in the subject. There might be a repeat or two under this heading . . . Maybe more tomorrow on this theme.

• A good lover will behave as elegantly at dawn as at any other time. He drags himself out of bed with a look of dismay on his face. The lady urges him on: “Come, my friend, it’s getting light. You don’t want anyone to find you here.” He gives a deep sigh, as if to say that the night has not been nearly long enough and that it is agony to leave. Once up, he does not instantly pull on his trousers. Instead he comes close to the lady and whispers what ever was left unsaid during the night. Even when he is dressed, he still lingers, vaguely pretending to be fastening his sash. Presently he raises the lattice, and the two lovers stand together by the side door while he tells her how he dreads the coming day, which will keep them apart; then he slips away. The lady watches him go, and this moment of parting will remain among her most charming memories.
• A hateful thing: A lover who is leaving at dawn announces that he has to find his fan and his paper. “I know I put them somewhere last night,” he says. Since it is pitch dark, he gropes about the room, bumping into the furniture and muttering, “Strange! Where on earth can they be?” Finally he discovers the objects. He thrusts the paper into the breast of his robe with a great rustling sound; then he snaps open his fan and busily fans away with it. Only now is he ready to take his leave. What charmless behaviour! “Hateful” is an understatement.
• Another hateful thing: Equally disagreeable is the man who, when leaving in the middle of the night, takes care to fasten the cord of his headdress. This is quite unnecessary; he could perfectly well put it gently on his head without tying the cord. And why must he spend time adjusting his cloak or hunting costume? Does he really think someone may see him at this time of night and criticize him for not being impeccably dressed?
• A good lover will behave as elegantly at dawn as at any other time. He drags himself out of bed with a look of dismay on his face. The lady urges him on: “Come, my friend, it’s getting light. You don’t want anyone to find you here.” He gives a deep sigh, as if to say that the night has not been nearly long enough and that it is agony to leave. Once up, he does not instantly pull on his trousers. Instead he comes close to the lady and whispers what ever was left unsaid during the night. Even when he is dressed, he still lingers, vaguely pretending to be fastening his sash. Presently he raises the lattice, and the two lovers stand together by the side door while he tells her how he dreads the coming day, which will keep them apart; then he slips away. The lady watches him go, and this moment of parting will remain among her most charming memories. Indeed, one’s attachment to a man depends largely on the elegance of his leave-taking. When he jumps out of bed, scurries about the room, tightly fastens his trouser-sash, rolls up the sleeves of his Court cloak, over-robe, or hunting costume, stuffs his belongings into the breast of his robe and then briskly secures the outer sash – one really begins to hate him.
• Nearby another woman’s lover is making his way home in the misty dawn. He is wearing loose violet trousers, an orange hunting costume, so lightly coloured that one can hardly tell whether it has been dyed or not, a white robe of stiff silk, and a scarlet robe of glossy, beaten silk. His clothes, which are damp from the mist, hang loosely about him. From the dishevelment of his side locks one can tell how negligently he must have tucked his hair into his black lacquered head-dress when he got up. He wants to return and write his next-morning letter before the dew on the morning glories has had time to vanish; but the path seems endless, and to divert himself he hums “The sprouts in the flax fields”. As he walks along, he passes a house with an open lattice. He is on his way to report for official duty, but cannot help stopping to lift up the blind and peep into the room. It amuses him to think that a man has probably been spending the night here and has only recently got up to leave, just as happened to himself. Perhaps that man too had felt the charm of the dew. Looking round the room, he notices near the woman’s pillow an open fan with a magnolia frame and purple paper; and at the foot of her curtain of state he sees some narrow strips of Michinoku paper and also some other paper of a faded colour, either orange-red or maple. The woman senses that someone is watching her and, looking up from under her bedclothes, sees a gentleman leaning against the wall by the threshold, a smile on his face. She can tell at once that he is the sort of man with whom she need feel no reserve. All the same, she does not want to enter into any familiar relations with him, and she is annoyed that he should have seen her asleep. “Well, well. Madam,” says the man, leaning forward so that the upper part of his body comes behind her curtains, “What a long nap you’re having after your morning adieu. You really are a lie-abed!” “You call me that. Sir,” she replies, “only because you’re annoyed at having had to get up before the dew had time to settle.” Their conversation may be commonplace, yet I find there is something delightful about the scene. Now the gentleman leans further forward and, using his own fan, tries to get hold of the fan by the woman’s pillow. Fearing his closeness, she moves further back into her curtain enclosure, her heart pounding. The gentleman picks up the magnolia fan and, while examining it, says in a slightly bitter tone, “How standoffish you are!” But now it is growing light; there is a sound of people’s voices, and it looks as if the sun will soon be up. Only a short while ago this same man was hurrying home to write his next morning letter before the mists had time to clear. Alas, how easily his intentions have been forgotten!
• While all this is afoot, the woman’s original lover has been busy with his own next-morning letter, and now, quite un expectedly, the messenger arrives at her house. The letter is attached to a spray of bush-clover, still damp with dew, and the paper gives off a delicious aroma of incense. Because of the new visitor, however, the woman’s servants cannot deliver it to her. Finally it becomes unseemly for the gentleman to stay any longer. As he goes, he is amused to think that a similar scene may be taking place in the house he left earlier that morning.

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The Usual Links . . .

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I can also be read on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/colin.davies.752861 or on Substack at https://doncolin.substack.com/

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.

For those thinking of moving to Spain:–

• This is an extremely comprehensive and accurate guide to the challenge, written by a Brit who lives in both the North and the South and who’s very involved in helping Camino walkers.
• And here’s a young person’s guide to moving to Spain – to work, not to retire.
• This post of mine contains several relevant articles from ThinkSpain.
• This article ‘debunks claims re wealth and residency taxes’. Probably only relevant if you’re a HNWI. In which case, you’ll surely know what that stands for.
• Getting a mortgage in Spain: Some advice on this challenge.