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 Guardian reports here on a large-ish demonstration against the government in Madrid, organised by the PP opposition party. The latter’s aim of forcing an early general election is, of course, a pipe-dream.

I wrote about immunities and afueros yesterday. One current beneficiary of these is a PSOE politician called Miguel Ángel Gallardo. I read of him in an article headlined: El aforado Gallardo se sonrie de ustedes. And there’s a YouTube video entitled: El obsceno aforamiento de Gallardo. Which probably says is all about the system. And about politics in Spain. Gallardo is accused of corruption but, just before his trial was about to begin, he became a member of the Extremadura General Assembly, shifting jurisdiction to the Supreme Court of the region, which is ‘seen as a more favourable venue for politicians’. For this to happen, the occupant of the seat suddenly resigned and the next 4 folk in line declined to succeed him. So, all in all, pretty smelly.

Life in Spain: A bad year so far as regards improvements on my house . . . I have made an official claim against a company which didn’t do what I paid them for work on my roof. And now I might have to make a denuncia against a chap who seems to have disappeared after taking a deposit for tiling the path in my front garden. Though much good that will do me! I’m told that the police won’t do anything as it’s below their action-threshhold of 500 euros . . .

I was musing, yet again, last evening that one only sees women smoking these days, when a chap sat at the next table and lit up a pitillo.. As the smoke was bringing tears to my (sensitive) eyes, I recalled that only a few days ago, I’d moved inside from a terraza, after a man at the next table – the only other person there – had started to smoke. Still, it’s a question of percentages and I still believe Spanish female smokers far outnumber Spanish males. Very probably not just in Pv city in Galicia.

Postscript: It’s not my week . . . At midday today. I sat outside a café on the Camino to watch Caminers to by. Just after I’d got my glass of wine, this woman sat next to me and started to smoke.

So I came inside and witnessed the waitress asking her what had happened to me and my glass of wine . . . To which, from her gesture, her response seemed honest.

Cousas de Galicia

Every day, on my way into and out of town in the mornings and evenings, I pass large-scale construction works on a new commercial park on the road out to Vilagarcia – the drug-smuggling ‘capital’ of the Rías Baixas.. These were suspended for 6 months last year for the usual reason – one of the licences hadn’t been obtained – but work on the foundations has taken place for the last year. It’s claimed they’ll be finished by the end of the year and that Decathlon and others stores will be open for Xmas but I very much doubt that. After all, it took at least 15 years to move from a planning application to the turning of a sod. Things take time here.

Portugal

Doubtless very happy again, after defeating Spain, on penalties, last night.

Trumpworld/LA LA Land

A (coincidental) follow-up to yesterday’s criticisms of Trump’s hatchet man, Stephen Miller.

And a tinge of optimism . . .The fightback has begun. From the courts to the streets, Americans are finding ways to resist a president who made their fears a reality. . . . The US has rarely been shy of trumpeting its love for liberty. Yet the nation’s response to politicised mass firings, deportations without due process and much else has seemed curiously quiet. . . . Polling suggests that, so far at least, reaction against the administration is being driven more by Trump’s tariffs and other economic policies than deportations and removals to foreign jails. This might well change after the events in LA and the sending there of the National Guard.

And see here from min 0.50.

It’s been said that it’s not right to say that the USA is moving from a democracy to an oligarchy. It’s more accurate to say it’s becoming again what it was in the 19th century – a plutocracy. If it isn’t already.

Meanwhile . . . Fair comment:

Quote of the Day

Trump and Musk are like 2 hyenas fighting over a corpse.

Spanish

It’s always amusing when English words are misspelt in Spanish papers and books. As with many proper names in Julio Camba’s Obras set in London in the early 20th century. And as in the VdG today, when it spoke of university rangkins.

But nothing has ever come close to being as funny as my neighbour writing fuck**g in a message of complaint about something.

You Have to Laugh

The woman in the orange suit – who looks younger than those to the left and the right – is actually the mother/mother-in-law of the latter two. . . . And it’s her son with the baby:-

Very Spanish. Great surgeons here.

Did You Know?

Gardening note: These are (very young) examples of a weed usually called ‘purple trumpet vine’ but officially is Clytostoma callistegioide, or Bignonia callistegioides.

It strangles other plants and it’s a devil to get rid of – one reason being – as you can see in the foto – it sinks deep/long roots before emerging from the soil. Just pulling them out doesn’t work, and I’m not sure that weedkillers do either.

Finally . . .

A couple more extracts from Sei Shonagon’s. The Pillow Book

During the hot months it’s a great delight to sit on the veranda, enjoying the cool of the evening and observing how the outlines of objects gradually become blurred. At such a moment I particularly enjoy the sight of a gentleman’s carriage, preceded by outriders clearing the way. Sometimes a couple of commoners will pass in a carriage with the rear blinds slightly raised. As the oxen trot along, one has a pleasant sense of freshness. It is still more delightful when the sound of a lute or flute comes from inside the carriage, and one feels sorry when it disappears in the distance. Occasionally one catches a whiff of the oxen’s leather cruppers; it is a strange, unfamiliar smell, but, absurd as it may seem, I find something rather pleasant about it. On a very dark night it is delightful when the aroma of smoke from the pine-torches at the head of a procession is wafted through the air and pervades the carriage in which one is travelling.

Nothing annoys me so much as someone who arrives at a ceremony in a shabby, poorly decorated carriage. It is not so bad if the person has come to hear a sermon with the aim of clearing himself of sin; but even then a very inelegant carriage is bound to make a bad effect. At the Kamo Festival, of course, such negligence is quite in excusable. Yet there are people who actually attend the ceremony in carriages where plain white robes have been hung up instead of the proper blinds.

Even when one has carefully equipped one’s carriage in honour of the great day, making sure that the blinds and other fittings are exactly right, and has set out for the ceremony confident that one presents a fairly elegant appearance to the world, it is most unpleasant to see a near-by carriage that is superior to one’s own, and one wonders why it had to appear at just that place.

How much more galling must it be for someone who is travelling in a really shabby carriage! At the time of the Festival, when the carriages of the young noblemen go up and down the avenue, it really makes one’s heart pound with excitement if one of them pushes its way between the others and stops close to one’s own. I remember one year when, wishing to be sure of a good view, I hurried my servants and set out early in the morning. As a result I had to wait a long time for the procession to arrive. The suffocating heat added to my impatience, and I moved about restlessly in my carriage. I was just standing up to stretch myself when I saw a group of about eight carriages moving quickly along the avenue, one directly behind the other. They came from the direction of the High Priestess’s palace and the passengers were senior courtiers and other gentlemen who were to attend the High Priestess’s. It was a delightful surprise to find that things had already started. The senior courtiers ordered that dishes of watered rice be served to some of the more distinguished outriders at the head of the procession. Servants came down to the galleries, and held the horses by the bridles. Then those of the outriders whose fathers were important men partook of the watered rice. It was a pleasant scene, but I felt rather sorry for the lesser riders.

When the High Priestess’s palanquin was carried along the avenue, I enjoyed seeing how all the people pulled down the blinds of their carriages, hastily raising them as soon as the High Priestess had passed.

Now a carriage came and stood directly in front of mine. I complained bitterly, but the attendants paid no attention and simply said, “Why shouldn’t we stay here?” Not knowing how to argue with such men, I sent a message to the owner of the carriage. It was really rather an amusing situation. Although the carriages were already squeezed together tightly new ones kept arriving. The passengers were people of high rank, accompanied by numerous attendants who travelled in carriages behind them. I was wondering how they could possibly find room when I saw the outriders leap off their horses and briskly force the other carriages to move back. I was most impressed by the way in which they managed to get their masters’ carriages, and then those of the attendants, into the spaces that had been cleared; but it was rather pathetic to observe the owners of the simple carriages as they harnessed their oxen and jogged along, looking for some new place.

The grander carriages, of course, could not be treated in such a cavalier fashion. Though there were many splendid carriages in the crowd, I also noticed quite a few that had an ugly, rustic look and whose humble occupants were forever summoning their servants and giving them their babies to hold.

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The Usual Links . . .

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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.
• 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.
• A comparison of UK and Spanish living costs.
• And here’s a personal guide to moving to Spain – to work, not to retire.
• Finally, from a tax lawyer: Everything you need to know about taxes and healthcare when retiring to Spain.