Life in La Unión

I've never been good at popular culture. Maggie has a penchant for those gossip magazines; the sort that mix the "Mother's anguish for teenage son" with how Rihanna had taken to carrying a turnip around as a talisman. I can never fathom how she remembers all the names let alone recognises the same person in photos that look as alike as chalk and cheese to me. A few years ago we went to a music festival in Benicassim. As with all festivals I'd gone primarily to sample the vegetable noodles. I did have a passing interest in the music with the thought of seeing old timers before they died and newcomers who may one day be famous. The Ting Tings and Leonard Cohen as I remember. As we wandered around the site we came across some bloke playing Flamenco music on one of the stages. It was good. The crowd was sizeable but there was none of that fighting crush you get with the headline acts so we stayed a while. The singer turned out to be Enrique Morente. I was impresse...

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 talki...