Life in La Unión

As I sprayed the antiperspirant under my armpit my mind strayed to getting in touch with the phone company. The flat is beginning to look a little barer because things have been migrating back to Culebrón for the past few weeks. At the end of the month I will leave La Unión and before I go I need to cancel the phone and Internet connection. I realised I would need to know the number I wanted to cancel. I have no idea of the land-line number for the phone here because I never phone the flat and if I did I would just press something on my mobile. In fact I don't know any phone number except that of my mobile phone. And the address. The phone company would probably need that too. I know the street name but I'm not absolutely certain whether it's flat 3 at number 11 or flat 11 at number 3. When I need a physical address I never use this one so all I need to know is how to walk to the front door. Although some people would disagree with me it's not a memory problem. ...

I only turn out for event type football games - World Cup and European Championship basically. Last night it was Holland Spain. When one watches football there is really only one suitable drink. No point in sipping a sherry in front of the telly at home. Football means beer. Beer means a bar. Bars mean atmosphere. I reckoned half an hour beforehand would be plenty of time to bag a seat. As a lone drinker I thought I may not be that welcome - taking up valuable selling space. It's true the Cantina, with it's big screen, was pretty much all reserved. The customers had war-paint, flags and paraphernalia. Not so in the bar where I most often buy alcohol or the bar I use more for coffee. Plenty of space and no sign of football fever. I have no idea if England still dresses up with flags and banners before the big football events but Spain doesn't so much. It's not as though the World Cup isn't going on. Telly and radio are full of it and there are lots of football ...

In the days when I used to trade birthday parties with Andrew Gwizdak, Rachael Iredale, Denzil Broadhurst, Elizabeth Clegg and John Hobson it was sandwiches, trifle and pin the tail on the donkey. Then my parents came up with a wheeze. With a packed tea from Thomas's the bakers we went for a birthday party to the Queens Hall in Leeds to see Billy Smart's Circus. The last circus I remember after that was when I was about fifteen and I went with Garry and maybe Tracey to a circus in the Boxhall playing field. I'm sure there were animals. They were different times and mistreating animals, at least in the form that circuses do, was not considered a sin. I vaguely remember people standing on the backs of horses, dogs jumping through hoops and men putting their heads into lion's mouths but what I remember more are the strong men, the jugglers, the knife throwers, the unfunny clowns and the tightrope walkers. Even then I liked the tackiness of circuses - the leopard ski...

Somebody told me that we expats are to be denied the cold weather allowance on our state pensions. It gets pretty cold in our house in Culebrón in winter I can tell you but it's beginning to warm up nicely now. I'm a bit of a list writer. I always have been. I've kept a diary for years and a few years ago I took to adding a little note at the foot of the page with the maximum and minimum temperatures and a Today programme like weather summary - sunny and warm, cold and miserable. In La Unión I have nowhere to put a maximum minimum thermometer so that it stays out of the direct sunlight. Instead I started to use the maximum and minimum records from the state weather service for my diary log. There are weather stations where I work in Cartagena about 15kms from home, Torre Pacheco is 16kms away and San Javier Airport is 22kms away. Pretty close. Good enough to give me a fair indication of the weather in La Unión. Yesterday it was 25ºC and 16ºC in Cartagena, 23ºC and 1...

They really couldn't make it any easier. Name and address, delivery address, old passport number and not much else. That's done on-line, then you pay - just short of £103. Next you print out the form which tells you the documents you need to enclose, a couple of passport photos and away in the post. Spaniards carry ID cards so even the smallest town has a photographer to take the appropriate photos. There are photo booths too but I thought a photographer would know the rules. The photos of me were pink and silver haired but then that's me. I thought there was a lot of shoulder and chest though and not enough face. True enough when I tried them against the template on the passport application form my face was too small. Also the photographer had guillotined the photos with a serrated edge which gave them a nice 1960s feel something I suspected that HM Passport Office may not find quite so charming. So I drove to a photo booth in Cartagena. The blurb on the outside said...

Migas, is an very old and very traditional Spanish dish created to make use of stale bread. It was traditionally eaten by shepherds. It's easy to see why if you imagine them spending days on the hills limited to what they could easily carry with them. Stale bread flavoured with garlic and olive oil or lard cooked over a camp fire is a lot better than nothing. On good days the migas might even include the spicy chorizo sausage, ham or salted pork. I was in one of those little road trains. The things that hold you up in your car in the narrow streets of historic city centres. A man was holding forth on the different versions of migas. He was agreeing with the guide who, outside the interpretation centre dedicated to cave dwelling, had told us a little story. You need four people to make good migas - she said. Un tacaño, un generoso, un estupido y un listo or a tight fisted person, a generous person, a stupid person and a clever person. The miser won't put sufficient w...

It was Father's Day on Wednesday and I didn't get farther than the local bar. I have the day off on Friday and I decided it was time to shrug off this lethargy; to do something. It wasn't a huge thing but I went to Cartagena and did a tour of the local exhibitions. At the Archaeological Museum they had some good and well seen photos on the theme of women in flamenco; at the Palacio Molina they had photos, some of which I thought were excellent and some very ordinary, by a group of professional photographers who once belonged to a now extinct local photo group; at the Byzantine walls museum some paintings by a chap called Miguel Ángel Quiñonero which I thought were laughable and at the MURAM there were some paintings gathered together under the title Spanish painting 1875-1935 some of which I really liked even if it was only for the completely over the top gilded frames. They let me down at the Old Town Hall where the exhibition was being mysteriously re-organised in mid...

I'm not doing much at the moment. Preparing lessons or drinking whisky whilst smoking and reading in the nearest bar doesn't provide much raw material for blog posts. I've become a bit of a Billy No Mates . I still go to the pictures but even that is becoming faintly depressing. I saw three films this weekend. All of them were dubbed into Spanish and the only one I understood in its entirety was Philomena. I suspect that I understood it because it has a British sensibility - like me. My classical music tastes are a bit plebeian too - very Classic FM. That's probably why my favourite bit of opera is the aria Nessun Dorma from Turandot. That's the tune that Pavarotti took it to number two in the BBC top forty back in 1990 when it was used as the World Cup theme song. I like the Jussi Bjórling version best but my reason for that is also a bit prosaic. I first heard it as Ken Russell's contribution to the 1987 film Aria. Not exactly a Glyndebourne experience. ...

Every month there is a survey about the things which most concern ordinary Spaniards. Recently corruption has been up there in the top three usually just behind unemployment. Over the past few years there have been several high profile corruption cases and, because the Spanish justice system still hasn't bought many computers and is notoriously slow, most of them are still current news stories. Anyway there are new scandals almost on a weekly basis. The King's son in law is in court on corruption charges and the Infanta, a Princess in British terms, has to declare in court tomorrow. The ex treasurer of the governing right of centre Partido Popular is currently on remand accused of handing over wads of money in brown envelopes to lots of prominent people - one name on his payment list is that of the President. Everybody seems to be in on it from prominent business people and heads of regional government through bankers to town mayors and even to the unions who are accused of...

Generally there was a lot of jostling, no, let's be honest, shoving. There were pushchairs snapping at my heels. Then suddenly it all started to slacken off. Not a lot but there was space to move. Around me I heard food words. Lots of people seemed to be talking about migas. The word means crumbs. Migas are a common dish all over Spain but I think the Murcian ones are made with bread crumbs, garlic and lots of fatty meat and sausage rather than the sort made with just flour, water and garlic. Apparently the town is locally famous for its migas. It was nearly time to eat and whatever the tourist board people may tell you about Spanish events the real core of any celebration is eating and drinking. Fifty three Spaniards and I were on a coach trip to Barranda from La Unión. Mari Carmen, the tour operator, addressed everyone she spoke to directly by first name including me. It was a little club. Microphone in hand Mari Carmen, explained about the Fiesta de las Cuadrillas Started ...

Maggie tells me I'm a bit deaf. She says I have the telly and the radio on too loud and that I don't understand her. Me, I didn't think there was a problem. Maybe I have problems understanding Spanish and I hope a bit of extra volume will help. In fact I like to use headphones or earphones when I can. So today I went for a hearing test. I was a bit annoyed that they kept me waiting as the parking meter ticked away and when the woman beckoned me into her office with a "Come on" I wondered if we were going to have a conversation in broken English. But no, she let me speak in Spanish. Broken Spanish instead. The test was simply a range of beeps in each ear at different frequencies. "Perfect" she said. "For my age?" I asked. '"No, more or less perfect, a bit of loss of low frequency in the left ear but absolutely fine." It was a good answer. Hearing loss may have given me a good excuse for my problems with Spanish b...

I like trains. Even the old slam door commuter trains didn't put me off. I'm just an old romantic and I think Orient Express rather than standing room only, overheated or freezing carriages, uncomfortable seats and the detritus of empty coffee cups that were the usual stuff of my UK train experiences. The other week when I caught the train from Madrid back to Cartagena we passed through Murcia station. Peering out of the window through the nightime double reflections I thought the station architecture and the bar looked interesting. I made a mental note to have a little excursion there one weekend. I bought the tickets online yesterday and made the trip today. A diesel multiple unit out and a carriage and loco set up on the way home. I travelled from and to Torre Pacheco which is an unremarkable little town just outside Cartagena. When I bought the tickets I was quite surprised how many trains there were each day between Cartagena and Murcia and I was even more surpr...

I've just had a really enjoyable holiday in Sri Lanka. At times it seemed like hard graft as we trudged kilometres or puffed and panted up steps but it will give me stories to bore anyone who will listen for years to come. Teaching English has made me very aware of my native tongue. I am more and more amazed by the power of the English language. In Sri Lanka, in Qatar, people addressed me in English and I spoke to them in English. Sometimes there was some confusion but the truth is that I have more difficulty speaking Spanish in Spain than I did speaking English in Sri Lanka. You'd have to ask the people I spoke to if it were the same for them! I haven't done the research but my impression is that Sri Lanka isn't incredibly poor. We certainly weren't besieged by outstretched hands or made to squirm at our wealth amongst bodies disfigured with disease or hunger. On the other hand it was pretty obvious that we were from a different, richer, more caring and bette...

It may well have been the Fat Duck but anyway it was a posh restaurant. A friend had been invited there. He said that the food was good but that the service was better - the waiters were at his elbow a second after he realised that he needed one. Like most things in life Spanish waiters follow a normal distribution. Some are terrible, some are superb and the vast majority do a good enough job. Customers need the waiters in Spanish bars to be more attentive than their British counterparts because the culture of table service as opposed to bar service puts the onus on them to spot you. Generally they do, generally the service is quick enough and generally the relationship between customer and server is neutral. By neutral I mean that the service is neither toadying nor overly friendly. That can be a difficult relationship to maintain. Generally that's how I remember being served by people in the UK but the last time I was in England I noticed a couple of times that servers we...

There is a proposal for a new Citizens Security Law in Spain, La Ley de Seguridad Ciudadana, which is Orwellian in its scope. Unauthorised demonstrations will be outlawed, taking videos of police officers or insulting police officers can lead to fines. Fines can be up to 600,000€ for certain offences such as unauthorised protests at a nuclear power station. Turning up for a protest wearing a mask or anything that makes it difficult for a protestor to be identifiied can lead to a fine of 30,000€. Obstructing a public official from going about their normal duties could also cost 30,000€. There is lots more. Now there are plenty of laws in Spain to deal with violence and public disorder but the problem may be that the courts are just a bit too woolly for our present government. The Vicepresident, Soraya Sáenz de Santamaría, had a bunch of people protesting outside her house about the current spate of evictions. She took 27 of them to court but, back in May, the judge threw the c...

Being alone is shrinking my world. Basically for four days of the week my life is ruled by work - well that and the laundry. Then I have a splendid long weekend but with nobody really to share it with I'm staying close to home. Even this weekend, a bank holiday weekend with Constitution Day on Friday and Immaculate Coception on Monday I haven't done anything special. Sofa time as my students call it. Telly time. Christmas has just about arrived in Spain. Most towns have their lights on now and the shopping centre car parks are more dangerous than ever - car park design is not a Spanish skill, add a touch of driver indiscipline and you have a sure recipe for bumps and scrapes. On the telly Christmas means seasonal ads. Perfume mainly. But there are at least two institutional adverts. One is the Freixenet sparkling wine advert which I've only seen so far by looking for it on YouTube and the other is the commercial for the big Christmas lottery draw. This year ...

More than once I have used the example of Spanish filling stations as one of the sure signs that Spanish business is badly organised. There are plenty of self service places, like the one in the photo, but usually as you pull up on the forecourt someone comes to serve you. I wonder why, with self service pumps, they pay someone to do a job that they could get me, the customer, to do for nothing? When I ask Spaniards about the reason I often get something about keeping people employed. Given that we seem happy enough to live in a capitalist system that answer just adds to my grave doubts about how Spaniards approach business. A couple of times, usually at night, we have pulled up at service stations where the lone employee is firmly locked inside the petrol station and a prepayment system is in operation. You have to hand over your money before they allow you to pump fuel into your vehicle. I went to a local petrol station today, late morning. Nobody came to serve me and the pumps...

I really like tea. Nothing special, just ordinary council house tea; milk, no sugar. We've never found it difficult to buy "British" tea since we first arrived here. In the early days it could be a bit of a fag going to the right supermarket or searching out a British food shop but nowadays Mercadona, probably the most widespread chain of supermarkets in Spain, stocks PG Tips and Tetley's so it's dead easy Long ago I stopped buying tea in Spanish bars. It usually comes luke warm and, unless you are very precise in your ordering instructions made half and half with hot milk. Anyway the coffee is excellent so why bother? Even for non tea drinking Britons tea is as much a concept as it is a drink. We are aware of the variations on tea from English Breakfast and Earl Grey through Darjeelings and Lapsang Souchong and we may even include decaff, fruit and herbal teas in the list but we all know that tea is tea and it has names like Ty-phoo, Yorkshire, Tetley...

The External Health building in Cartagena looks disused. I first went there a couple of weeks ago. I pressed the bell but I was so sure that the building was abandoned that I had started to walk away before someone answered the door. They took details and made me an appointment for today. Today in the same building a toothless chap wearing jeans and a faded polo shirt asked me what I wanted. He didn't look like medical staff - no white coat, the unmistakable badge of anyone doing any job in the health service. He must have been the caretaker because he knew what I had to do. First the registration on a lob sided, thousand time copied form and then a short wait for the doctor. Usual advice - avoid the water, drink whisky without ice, don't eat veg. Big change to my lifestyle there then. Covering myself in DEET and taking anti typhoid and malaria tabs will be novel though. To get the tablets I need to go to another doctor for a scrip. Usual Spanish system. Why do thing...

Sorry about the title I just couldn't resist and while we're here have you ever seen the version by Kylie Minogue sung at the 2000 Sydney Paralympics? Not a dry eye in the place. The Austrlians really should have chosen that song as their official national anthem. Anyway, where was I. Ah yes, in the Centro de Interpretación de la Mina las Matildes in Beal close to La Unión. It's a couple of old pit head engine houses and the winding gear of a pit turned into a museum about the mining industry in the Sierra de Minera area. It's run by the local foundation that is trying to protect and promote the mining heritage of the area. Their blurb says that they open every second and last Saturday of the month. This time I was smart enough to check. I sent a wasap (that's how we apparently say WhatsApp where I live) to the number on their website. I asked if they were open on Saturday. The reply was just one word; a clear and succinct - "sí." Their website ...