Little details

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I often despair of the Spanish ship spoiled for the ha'p'orth of tar. Nothing serious but enough to make us non competitive in a competive world and, incidentally, to drive me to distraction

I bumped into it twice today.

I went to find an exhibition. We've just had a new Primark open in the local shopping centre. As part of the opening hoo-hah the shop got ten local atrists to take a Primark garment and turn it into a work of art. Ignoring Bangladeshi slave workers I decided to go and have a look. The blurb on the centre's website didn't give an exact location but it's not a huge centre. When I got there I couldn't find the exhibition, There were no obvious notices. I looked in the shop but there were just people scrabbling through piles of clothes as far as I could see. Anyway I was pretty sure that Primark wouldn't give up expensive sales space to art. I wandered the centre but couldn't find anything. Eventually, overcoming my terror of talking to anyone I asked a security guard. He shrugged his shoulders.

I went to find a CD. There's a local club dedicated to Flamenco music. I read somewhere that this club had released a CD of the recordings of Antonio Piñana, probably the most famous Flamenco singer born around here. There were no details about where to get the CD but there was an email address so I emailed the club. The response was rapid and cordial and it gave me an address where I could buy the music, the bar where the club meets in Cartagena. So after the fiasco at Primark I headed for the bar. The bar was empty. I asked for the CD. The barman told me he knew of the CD but that he didn't know where they were kept. He didn't even pretend to look for it. "Come back this evening," he said. I explained that I lived in La Unión. He shrugged his shoulders.

I did go back in the evening and the bar was closed.

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