HALF EMPTY OR HALF FULL?

This week I received the following email. I have deleted the name of the newspaper and sender but the message still stands.

“Reading this week’s newspaper I came across an article headed ‘Don’t buy in Spain.’ I don´t know about you but I am getting pretty fed up, sad tho’ it is, of hearing about the poor sods who are about to lose everything they own through inept and greedy lawyers, slick tongued developers and estate agents who do little or no research. I feel genuine sorrow for them, don’t get me wrong, but just for once could somebody with some clout speak up for the thousands of happy purchasers in Spain?

“These disasters are such a small minority but the bad publicity has spread like a cancer through Europe and is doing this country a great deal of harm. I for one have had to close my office, having not made a sale for 15 months, in a town that once thrived on tourism and foreign money. No doubt there are many more towns in dire straits out there.”

That property buyers foreign and Spanish have suffered in Spain is not in doubt – indeed the European Parliament, backed by Spanish MEPs, highlighted the injustices of the coastal law just last week. None-the-less as the above email rightly points out the vast majority of Britons who have purchased in Spain are completely happy.

In addition although some have fallen foul of Spanish property frauds there are many more who have been tricked out of their hard earned cash by property investment deals, time share scams or financial disasters peddled by British conmen or women. If you want to read some real horror stories go to the Costa Action Group website.

When I asked another ex-pat about the article mentioned in the email she told me she no longer read the newspaper because of its negative approach to the news. Well bad news might move newspapers but it certainly does little good to the image of Spain... a country both I and many others are now proud to call our home. Don’t get me wrong – wrongs should be highlighted but news should be fair and balanced to give an accurate overall view.

Another story given a negative twist was the fact that sixty per cent of Spaniards do not speak English. Look at it another way, forty per cent, probably fast moving towards fifty per cent do. Now ask yourself how many Britons in the UK speak Spanish – the world’s third most used language? Or how many Britons in Spain speak Spanish? Or how many Spaniards who have made their homes in Britain speak English. I don’t have the stats for these answers but I can make a shrewd guess – as I am sure can you too.

Half empty or half full?

QUIRKY ON THE ROCK

When I was at school large chunks of my atlas were still coloured red. The days of empire were over (no I’m not that old but old enough) but the colonies still existed. In the centre of the book were black and white photos. The Taj Mahal was always one along with the Table Mountain and the Rock of Gibraltar.


Well I lived under Table Mountain for a short time in the 1980s and since the 1990s the Rock of Gibraltar has been on the horizon or a near neighbour. The Taj Mahal has yet to be visited...but I have dined at a restaurant of the same name – in Shepherds Bush I think.


The most famous hotel in Gibraltar is the Rock – as the name suggests it is perched on the side of the limestone monolith with outstanding views across the bay to Algeciras and the Strait to Morocco. It was built in 1932 by the Marquis of Bute and over the intervening years became one of the Med’s most distinguished hotels - a home from home for the Britons sailing the high seas to and from old Blighty. Needless to say many famous people have stayed there – their photographs adorn the Barbary Bar wall.


Today’s world is very different but the Rock Hotel retains much of its old world charm. It has every convenience that the modern traveller could want down to Wi-Fi in its bedrooms. Yet there is a quirkiness about the hotel which I suspect can be laid largely at the door of its general manager Stephen Davenport. When I tell you he is an Arsenal supporter – those who known their soccer will nod wisely. There are ducks in your bath, lollipops in your room and macaques (apes to you and me) on your room key – yet the real quirkiness emanates from the proud hotel’s very walls.


I went to the hotel to sample the fondue – quirky indeed as I haven’t had one for over 35 years. Yet it wasn’t that splendid meal or the sumptuous breakfast that caught my imagination. It was the awe inspiring beauty of the setting. The hotel has a famous wisteria terrace and this magnificent vine was in full bloom. The views of the sun setting behind the Algeciras hills were magic – you could almost reach out and touch Morocco on your left. Then in the dark the lights shine before you from San Roque round to Algeciras and from across the Strait in Tangier - whilst the hustle and bustle of passing ships in one of the world’s busiest waterways ensures an ever changing backdrop to sip a coffee and whisky from your terrace before bed.


I have no knowledge of what lies in the future for the Rock Hotel. Just experience tells me that at sometime in the years to come some bright spark will seek to improve what in its quirky way is already perfect. Therefore sooner rather than later take the opportunity to stay at this oasis of calm – a throwback to a past age – and you can always send photographs of your experiences from your laptop as you sit below the magnificent wisteria sipping a sun downer. How quirky can you get!

LOVE A DUCK

When I lived in Ireland back in the 1970s I remember the Limerick Leader ran an article on the lonely farmers in the West who were boosting the local postal service. Apparently they were sending away to sex shops in London to order inflatable dolls to keep them company on those cold winter nights.

The story came back to mind on Monday when I read a piece in Europa Sur. It told of a woman in the Campo de Gibraltar who earned her living throwing sex toy parties. She told the newspaper that women from 18 to 70 came along to the event and many of the older women brought their daughters or grand daughters. At the end of the party they bought what they thought might enliven their sex lives.

There was a photograph of all the paraphernalia that one of these parties entails – vibrators, dildos, creams and oils. But what caught my eye was in the middle of the table covered with these sexual delights - it was a duck. The sort of duck you’d have floated in the bath as a child.

Now I’m very partial to duck be it on my plate or the village pond. I have long since given up on taking a yellow duck to my bath but I know that Gibraltar’s Rock Hotel does provide them for guests.

I have asked around a number of people who are more worldly wise than me but they failed to come up with the answer as to what a duck might be doing at a sex toy party. Being a determined reporter I now know the truth but my beak is sealed... let me just say that by all accounts it gives you good vibrations.

My grandmother often used to say “Love a duck” when she was surprised or dismayed. Now I know why.

FOX SHOT OVER HEALTH BILL

Having Digital Plus TV not only can I watch Spanish TV channels but also I can eaves drop on what is happening in the USA through Fox News.

Fox News – fairly unbalanced as its slogan should read – serves a wonderful service to the world. It reminds us all how truly lucky we are not to live in the USA.

Those of us who do not live in totalitarian states expect our TV stations to be unbiased so to watch Fox – where a balanced debate involves two Republicans – comes as quite a shock.

Fox News has invested much of its credibility in defeating Obama’s health care bill. Wars may erupt around the world, natural disasters occur but for Fox watchers the only news worth headlining was the progress of the legislation and what a disaster it spelt for the land of the free if passed.

The Canadian and British national health services might not be perfect but Fox was happy to slander them holding them up as the bogey men that could be inflicted upon US citizens if the Obama bill was passed. The thought of universal health care and the concept that a person should receive medical assistance based on their need and not their ability to pay for insurance sent Fox and its broadcasters in to a frenzy.

Whilst Shepherd Smith might present the fair face of Fox we also have the unbalanced, deranged performances of the likes of the Glenn Beck – a man with all the charm and santity of a mediaeval witch-finder pursuivant. Not even President Obama being mugged in a lengthy interview by Fox’s Brett Baer just days ago could prevent the march of the health care bill.

Republican politicians are well used to the rough and tumble of Washington – to victory and defeat. The real shocked faces on Monday were on Fox News – a station that has invested its prestige in defeating Obama – and lost twice!

SHOULD THE POPE APOLOGISE?

Many years ago I remember that a relationship of mine floundered because I was always too quick to apologise. I was rather battered by events at the time so was always saying sorry for even the most minor of infringements. Time has moved on, and whilst I will gladly hold my hand up if I am in the wrong, I do not wear my guilt as a hair shirt.

Hence I do not approve of the current vogue that sees our political leaders rushing to apologise for sins that were committed by their nations centuries or even decades ago. So I beg the question should the Pope be apologising for the child abuse cases in Ireland?

Before I go on regular readers of my blog will know that whilst I was brought up a Catholic I have long since lapsed. I also have to stress that whilst I was taught by nuns, brothers and priests – and spent much time in their company – I have never been subjected to any abuse mentally, physically or sexually.

However it is quite clear that Catholic children have suffered at the hands of the very people who they should have felt they could trust the most in Ireland, Germany, the USA and around the world.

Yet was it the Pope’s fault? It could be argued that as the head of the Catholic Church the buck stops with him. Many popes may have liked to think that they were the almighty but if you are a believer then ultimately the buck stops with God – and hence when the offending priests, bishops, cardinals and popes face their maker they will have to answer for their sins.

A bishop stated on television on Saturday that if properly read the Pope’s letter to the faithful in Ireland would take around 40 minutes to get through. That sounds to me like punishing the congregation more than the clergy. I also fear it is diverting the attention away from the pervert priests and guilty hierarchy.

My priority would be for the paedophile priests to have the full weight of the law thrown at them. If the hierarchy were complicit in a cover-up then they should also be charged as accessories. I was going to say that both are nothing more than common criminals but that of course would slander many err-do-wells who may have broken the law but do not sexually abuse the innocent. None-the-less justice will not be served until they are shamed in courts of law and thrown behind bars.

If there is a God – whoever he, she or it may be – then religious justice will follow in due course and not be handed out by men in robes in Rome who for so long were happy to look the other way.

For now we have to settle for criminal justice which should not be lessened or avoided because of a government’s subservience to the Holy Roman Catholic Church or any other organised religious group.

I firmly believe the abused children should receive retribution – I just question whether the Pope is the man for the job.

SORRY, I DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH

The following conversations in SPANISH THROUGHOUT were recently held between a very friendly bar waitress and myself in a cafe in Estación San Roque.

Me: A beer please.

Waitress: A coffee?

Me: A beer please.

Waitress: A white coffee?

Me: A beer – I’ll have a beer without alcohol.

Waitress: You want a coffee with no milk.

Me: I want a beer!

Fridge door is opened and a bottle of Cruzcampo is waived in my direction. I nod my ascent.

Waitress: Are you English?

Me: Yes.

Waitress: Sorry I don’t speak English.

15minutes later:

Me: Do you have red wine?

Waitress: You want another beer?

Me: Do you have red wine?

Waitress: You want a coffee?

Me: Do you have a Rioja.

Waitress: A Rioja no. I have this red wine – do you want it with white lemonade.

Me: No – I’ll have another beer.

Waitress: Sorry, I don’t speak English.

15 minutes later:

Me: Can I have the bill please.

Waitress: You want another beer?

Me: Can I have the bill please.

Waitress: You want a coffee?

Me: I want the bill! The bill!

Waitress: Oh you want the bill – sorry I don’t speak English.

I should add that between the above conversations I spoke to a seven-year-old girl who I suspect is the daughter of the cafe’s owner. She told me very proudly she spoke English. We had a couple of brief chats – I spoke to her in Spanish – she replied in English. We understood each other perfectly.

There must be a moral to this story – but for the life of me I haven’t a clue what it is.

JIMENA: WHERE THE MUSHROOM WAS KING

Jimena is not a wealthy village. In the street on which I live there are a number of families who have no work. Others earn their livelihood working the land in Los Alcornocales national park that surrounds us. Hard graft!

Traditionally the people of the village and countryside have lived off what the soil provides – and many still do. In recent years there has been a steady market created for the mushrooms and fungi that can be harvested in the woodlands.

A number of years ago Jimena, to much fanfare, opened its own ‘lonja micológica’ where the collectors could bring their harvest and sell it directly to wholesalers at the going rate. This was the first market of its kind in Andalucía and other villages have sent people to Jimena to see how it operated so they could duplicate this mushroom market at home.

Well there would be no point in their coming now. Fran Gómez, the coordinator for Izquierda Unida in Jimena, tells me that the doors of the lonja are firmly shut.

In January the town hall announced that it was closing the marketing because work would shortly start next door on the construction of the new local police station. This would mean the electricity would be cut and access would be restricted.

However three months on the work hasn’t started and the market has remained closed. This has coincided with a period of good mushroom harvests brought on by the rains. As the mushroom collectors can’t sell through the market they are left dependent on selling at lower prices to buyers who then capitalize on the abundant harvest themselves.

At this time of economic crisis, when many families are living below the breadline, the mushroom collectors should be helped and not hindered in putting food on their tables. This is a tale of a small village in Andalucía but tragically it is mirrored throughout Spain where the poor are not helped yet miraculously the rich get richer. Wasn’t it ever so?