Esmorzaret

October 9th, is Valencia day, a regional Spanish  "bank holiday" to celebrate the day that King Jaume I entered the captured city of Valencia to bring it under the reign of the Kingdom of Aragon in 1238. 

In 2006 my friend Pepa told me, that on Valencia Day, one of the typical things to do was for lovers to give each other little handkerchief-wrapped bundles of marzipan sweets in the shapes of fruit, piulets, and tronadors (even having seen pictures, I don't know how to translate those words into English). So, on that first 9th October in Pinoso, I sneaked out to buy some from a local bakery, as a bit of a surprise for Maggie. I found all the shops were fast shut. It may be the tradition in the Valencia province of the Valencian Community, but it isn't here in Alicante. It's like paella. Up in Valencia, they have that bright yellow stuff with big prawns in it and round here we have a muddy brown-green paella with rabbit and snails. Ours is much better.

I get most of my news from the radio, but I also read an online, left-leaning newspaper, elDiario.es. Like all newspapers, it has proper articles, opinion pieces, fillers and clickbait. I read an article about esmorzaret by a bloke called Roberto Ruiz. Blog material I thought. Now I've actually seen esmorzaret, just once. I was a bit early for the guided visit I was doing to a citrus farm near Oliva, and I noticed the strange breakfast/brunch ritual of the locals. I did wonder if this was another very Valencian tradition, so I asked the same Pepa about this esmorzaret, and she came back to say that it was both trendy and traditional so much so that she and a group of friends were going out to get one the following weekend as a bit of an expedition as part of a group she's a member of "And after retirement; what?"

I need to add a bit of background here. Spaniards often reckon that they eat five times a day: desayuno/breakfast, almuerzo, comida/lunch, merienda, and cena/dinner. Whether the merienda is real or not, I'm not sure. British Victorians took tea at teatime, but teatime isn't that real for most Britons on most days anymore. Here though my concern is the distinction between breakfast and almuerzo. To overgeneralize, most Brits get up, shower, get dressed and eat something like toast, cereal or eggs—they have breakfast. Most Spaniards don't do that. They get up, have a breakfast drink like coffee or Nesquik, and go out to study or work. For the majority of the Spanish population their first substantial food is taken two to three hours after starting the day. They may go out to a bar or have a pack-up. If the office job starts at 9am and you eat two and a half hours later, it's probably going to be called almuerzo; if you started at 7am and eat at 9:30am, it's more likely to be called desayuno. The idea is the same. Sometimes an early lunch is called an almuerzo too.

Back at the newspaper article, the writer was waxing lyrical about the heritage of the esmorzaret which is basically a sandwich roll breakfast. Far superior, he said, to the foreign brunch and how the Valencian variety existed long before brunch was a twinkle in some foreigner's eye. How, for the food loving Valencianos, the esmorzaret is, not eating for the sake of eating, but rather a sacred custom that must be observed; a social ritual deeply rooted in the local culture, a ritual that has been passed down from generation to generation, from the labouring and peasant classes to having become a daily appointment for many Valencians today. But, the writer stressed, it's more than just a culinary tradition. It is also a time to disconnect, relax, and enjoy good food in good company. In fact, according to him, having a sarnie for breakfast is a fundamental part of the Valencian identity. One not to be overlooked if you are  a visitor and you really want to get to know the customs of this region. 

Roberto goes on to tell us that many people have their daily esmorzaret with their work colleagues, but it is the weekend lunches that are chosen to share the morning calmly with family and friends. Now isn't that a surprise? He says too that bars start to serve the esmorzaret from nine till mid morning. Here again we bump into a possible cultural difference. Morning in Spain lasts till you have lunch. So, for most people it's still morning till 2pm though I suspect that mid morning stretches no further than around 12:30pm.

The next three paragraphs are substantially his. I suspect he may get paid by the word.

For almuerzo, you don't go to a bar, order a sandwich, eat it, and leave. The esmorzaret goes much further. It starts with choosing the sandwich you'll have today, perhaps from a menu, perhaps a suggestion from the bar, or perhaps you choose the ingredients you want to put in the bread yourself by choosing them directly in front of a display case. Once the order is placed, you can then wait with a plate of cacau del collaret (peanuts) and another of olives, and in most places with a basic salad of lettuce, tomato, and onion. To drink? A beer, with or without alcohol, or wine, maybe pop.

Then comes the sandwich, the big moment. The variety is enormous, but some sandwiches never fail. The chivito is one of the best known, with chicken breast or pork loin, fried egg, bacon, ali oli (think garlic mayo), lettuce, tomato, and cheese. Also the brascada, with beef fillet, onion, and cured ham. Or the almussafes, with sobrasada (a paste made from ground pork seasoned with paprika), cheese, and caramelized onion. Or why not the ones with sausage, black pudding, and tomato; cuttlefish with ali oli; loin, pepper, fried egg, and chips; spanish tortilla de patatas with an infinite number of variations; or baby squid with ali oli. Practically anything you can fit between two layers of bread.

To finish, as tradition dictates, the best thing to do is to order a cremaet—a café solo with rum, lemon, sugar, and cinnamon, although the liqueur can be adapted according to taste. It is usually served flambéed and served aflame. All this, from when you started with the peanuts at the beginning to when you finish with the coffee, is the famous Valencian esmorzaret.

And back with Pepa she sent me a photo of the deserted Saturday morning tube station in Betera, where she now lives, to get in for a 10am esmorazet with her friends at Paiporta, a small town just South of Valencia city. Then she sent me pictures of the sandwich she chose, the accompanying chips and ali oli, the guindilla salad and the peanuts. 

El Mossett in Paiporta wasn't one of the ten recommended trendy spots to get your esmorazet in the article. If you're up there and you want to have a go then the mentioned spots were La Pascuala (El Cabanyal, Valencia), El Pastoret (Nàquera, Valencia), Va de Bo (Alfarp, Valencia), La Mesedora (Algemesí, Valencia), Nuevo Oslo (Valencia), El Racó de Vega (Xàtiva, Valencia), Kiosk La Pérgola (Valencia), Cremaet (Valencia), Mistela (Valencia) and Mesón Canela (Valencia)

 

PS It's also a "bank holiday", Hispanic Day, El Pilar, on 12th October but, as it's on a Saturday, and the shops, in the Valencian region can be open if they wish it will, probably, be a bit unremarkable.

Paradores and dictators

For Maggie, my partner's, birthday this year we went for a weekend in the Parador in Sigüenza. A Parador is, basically, a posh hotel. Paradores de Turismo de España, is a state-owned commercial company, its sole shareholder being a government department. Paradores were originally conceived, in the first couple of decades of the last century, as a way of promoting tourism in areas that lacked adequate accommodation. The idea was to open up an area, particularly to well off tourists, with a particular eye on the developing motorist market. The first Parador was built in the Gredos Mountains from scratch, on a site chosen by the then King, Alfonso XIII. 

Soon after this first landmark opening some bright spark came up with the idea of converting unused large historic buildings to work as the hotels which would also help maintain the national heritage as well as being attractive to tourists. At the same time, another government committee began the construction of the new Albergues de Carretera. These roadside hostels had petrol pumps and workshops to effect running repairs on the cars and were located at key points on the road network. Seventeen were planned, twelve were built and most of them later ended up being turned into Paradores. One of them was the one at Puerto Lumbreras in Murcia. It closed about 10 years ago when Paradores built a new hotel in Lorca.

There are just short of 100 Paradores in Spain and lots of them are based on refurbished castles, like the one in Sigüenza, and monasteries. Others are architecturally impressive newer buildings and some are nothing particularly special, architecturally, except that they are sited in spectacular locations. The last time we'd stayed in a Parador, before this last weekend, was a couple of years ago when we stayed in Cuenca - in that case it's a converted monastery. 

We're not really well enough off to stay in Paradores very often, though they sometimes have really good low season offers, but every now and again, when we're feeling flush enough to splash out, we do eat in their restaurants. All the Paradores make a thing of promoting regional cuisine and all the restaurants are open to the public and not just to hotel guests. Indeed, in the past, they used to promote regional customs of all sorts and it wasn't at all unusual to be served a beer by someone dressed as an 18th Century kitchen maid or an early 20th century farmhand. Since the chain nearly went bust a few years ago they seem to have abandoned the fancy dress and gone for polo shirt type uniforms throughout their network. The bars are also open to the public so, if you're not looking for a room or a meal, you can still get yourself an overpriced coffee and take the opportunity to have a bit of a look around what are often imposing buildings. I have to be honest and say that sometimes we've been disappointed by the price and or quality of the rooms, food and even the bars but we keep going back because they are quite special places.

There is a, tenuous, link between the Parador chain and a Spanish dictator. It may not be the dictator you're thinking of. From 1939 to 1975 Francisco Franco ruled Spain. Franco managed to manoeuvre himself into the lead position among a group of generals who staged an uprising against the democratically elected government in 1936. The rebels expected to seize power quickly but instead the coup turned into a three year long bloody civil war. Between 1923 and 1930 there had been an earlier dictatorship in Spain. Just like in 1936 it was a group of army generals, this time led by Miguel Primo de Rivera, who thought that the politicians were making a pig's ear of running the country and so mounted a military coup. That coup was tacitly approved of by the King at the time, Alfonso XIII

From about 1927 Miguel became keen on spending on infrastructure projects and founding state monopolies such as Campsa, the forerunner to Repsol, the petrol and energy people, and Telefonica, later Movistar the telecoms company. One of the projects that he supported was the construction of the Parador hotels as a method of fomenting tourism and promoting a positive image, among the rich, about Spain. That's why the first Parador, the one in the Gredos, was opened at that time and on a spot chosen by the King. To push tenuous relationships even further there is a link between Miguel Primo de Rivera's lad, José Antonio Primo de Rivera, and the ideology of Franco's rule. Jose Antonio was the politician who founded the Falange Española which was a sort of Spanish version of the Italian and German fascist parties. He was killed in a jail in Alicante not long after the start of the Spanish Civil War but his party became the official state party of the Francoist regime and still exists.

You'd think I'd know my name and address

My name's a bit tricky for a lot of Spaniards. My mum calls me Christopher, most other people use Chris. Cristofer exists as a Spanish name, as does the more traditional Cristobal. There are a lot of Cristiáns and Cristinas who use Cris as the shortened version. Nonetheless, Chris, said with an English lilt, is usually too much for most Spaniards, at first pass and, often, I have to revert to pronouncing my name a bit like Kreees or Kreeestoffair for it to be understood. If I'm only booking a table or something it's not really a problem, any old name will do, but lots of people are surprisingly picky about how it's spelled.

My middle name is John. This is a clear misspelling for most Spaniards because the H isn't in the right place. I'm not sure that there is a way to spell this, my middle name, using Spanish spelling rules. The usual best try is to spell it as Jhon. On any number of official documents I am Jhon. 

John also comes after my first name - Christopher John - so, obviously, using the Spanish naming format, which is a name plus two surnames, my first surname is John. I have got used to responding in a medical situation or a government office when they call for a Señor John. Sometimes, when I've helped acquaintances with a hospital visit I know that I'm with Jane Brown or John Smith but I'm not nimble enough to recognise Señor Susan for Jane Susan Brown or Señor Alfred for John Alfred Smith.

My family name is Thompson. The spelling isn't at all Spanish. I used to be able to say that my name was the same as the brand of TV because there was a famous maker of TVs here called Tomson but they seem to have disappeared from the scene. I can also say "sin ton ni son", which is a phrase that means something like "without rhyme nor reason". That both explains the phonetic structure of my name and lightens the mood. Usually, though, this is a completely redundant conversation because they push a scrap of paper my way and say "write it down".

Spaniards can be despotic in the way they change names to be Castilian names. Until quite recently Catalans called Carles, would be called Carlos and Neus would become Nieves. It still happens but less so. Mind you the King of the United Kingdom is nearly always referred to as Carlos III of Inglaterra. His lads are called Enrique and Guillermo.

My address is a problem too. I live in Culebrón. Culebrón is something akin to the English villages of Pratts Bottom or Bitchfield. The name means something. People are apt to comment. Culebrón means a soap opera, and people think it's another one of my little jokes. Once they've got over that, we have to go through the rest of the address. Basically, our address is just the house number and the village name. Doing this over the phone or filling in an online form can be difficult. Many of the databases have a required field with options like street, avenue or place. If this is being done over the phone the operator usually simply chooses one at random. If I'm filling in the form I try any number of the variants that I've seen over the years. The result is that we live at several different addresses: Culebrón Street, Culebrón Close, Culebrón Court, etc.

I should add that Pinoso, our mothership town, has two names. Pinoso in Castilian and El Pinós in Valencian. We've had people visiting us in their own cars who don't recognise that the two names have the same root.

Then there's the postcode. Unlike the, almost individual, postcodes of the UK the Spanish system is much more like the US zip code. One code covers a biggish area. Murcia, for instance, with a population of nearly 500,000 people, has 18 postcodes. Pinoso has one. Given the option that postcode, 03650, is the one I use. However, that same database which assigned us a new street/close/avenue has another potential little trick up its sleeve. The official postcode for Culebrón is 03658, but when we use that postcode, the mail is sent to the Salinas Post Office, 20km away, where it disappears. The autofill forms on the Internet are often unforgiving - if Culebrón exists on the database then its postcode is 03658 and however much I want to put in 03650 the computer says no. The tussles provide another variant address.

Moors and Christians: the fiesta event

This is the second part of a blog about Moors and Christians or Moros y Cristianos. The first part is called Moors and Christians: the real thing and it gives the history behind this event. This blog is about putting on funny costumes and parading through the streets.

The Moors and Christians festivals in all the towns have their own peculiarities. The costumes can be of varying styles, the individual events that make up the whole can be different, there can be different names for something more or less the same, the scale can vary enormously, the duration can also vary, the historical setting for the events may be different and even the type of music the accompanying bands play can have a local dimension. Nonetheless, most have essentially the same principal events. That said please bear in mind that this account has to be generalised and so is not always strictly accurate.

The event is, in essence the re-enactment of a fight between two ideologies, Muslim and Christian, so the starting point is that there are two factions and the final victory always goes to the Christians. Each of the two sides is made up of groups which are usually called comparsas though filae or fila is also relatively common. Often families will identify with a particular comparsa, generation after generation, joining the same group. 

In any town that celebrates Moors and Christians you'll see buildings of all shapes and sizes identified as the headquarters for these groups. The ones with crescent moons, crossed scimitars and Arabic script are Moors and the ones with coats of arms and crosses are Christians. The groups have names like Almogávares, Moros Beberes, Ballesteros, Zingaros, Realistas, Piratas, Mudéjares, Flamencos, Abencerrajes and so on. Each of these differently named comparsas is a sort of social club with their ultimate goal being to get their comparsa out onto the street during the fiesta with the best uniforms and best accessories and the best everything else. Along the way the participants won't forget to have a bit of fun and to move quite a lot of alcohol.

It's usually pretty easy to tell whether you're watching Moors or Christians – beards, curved swords, harem pants, veils and the like for Muslims and chain mail, big broadswords and silk dresses for the Christians. Within the Christian ranks there are often spoon, or pencil carrying, students. I have no idea why they carry spoons nor do I know why students are Christian when the Moors were famous for their scholarship. There are, commonly, pirates, contrabandistas (smugglers) and sometimes sailors too. Given the one time fame of Barbary pirates I always expect these ship going types to be Muslims but I've seen them on both sides of the divide.

How the two sides are organised varies from town to town and event to event. There is always one one overall boss for the Christian side and another for the Moors. These chiefs are usually chosen by some sort of votation or there may be some sort of rotation within the various comparsas. This overall commander is sometimes called captain, sometimes a general and sometimes king or queen. The individual comparsas usually have some sort of figurehead too and any number of sub officials such as squadron chiefs and flag bearers. There are often events that are to do with this hierarchy - presentation of flags, naming of chiefs etc.

I think all the Moors and Christians festivals have a Catholic procession somewhere among the events. Usually the whole festival will be to the glory of some saint or other and said saint will get moved to the parish church escorted by the various comparsas.

So these religious and protocol are a part of the Moros y Cristianos fiesta but the big thing, the popular thing, the crowd pleasers are the desfiles, the parades. If you're trying to decipher a programme in Spanish be careful of the difference between procesión, which is a religious parade, and words like entrada, desfile and cabalgata which are the spectacular and secular parades. Typically the most spectacular events are the Moorish and Christian entradas, the entrances. Normally the entradas are two separate events though in some smaller festivals Christians and Moors may parade together. The costumes are often spectacular, especially the Muslim ones, and there may be all sorts of extras like war chariots, horses and fire breathing dragons. 

Within the entrada each each comparsa will divide its ranks into groups of 10-14 people called an escuadra. These people will wear matching outfits and be led by a squadron chief. As they pass by you the squadron chief will be inciting the crowd to cheer. Each comparsa will have at least one musical band and often several bands helping it to march along. The music for Moors and Christians often includes a style of music typical to the town or region.

The other big event, apart from the entrada, is the embassy, la embajada. An embassy is deputation or mission sent by one ruler or state to another. It usually takes place either by a mockup castle or, if the town happens to have a real castle, there. It's a play in two parts and it has a prologue which is sometimes called the estafeta, a sort of preamble to the embassy, the first delegation before the embassy. Only a few characters are involved in the embajada, the chiefs of the Christians and Muslims, the ambassador and a few sentries from either side - again there are lots of variations so sometimes there are armed infantry squads or maybe riders on horseback. The Muslims request the surrender of the town, the Christians say not on your life, and so the battle begins.  

The resultant battle is often the chance to use some incredibly loud and old fashioned looking guns called arquebuses, I think that these sort of events are often referred to as alardos. In some places, where the guns include canons, the event is called a guerrillera. If you go to see a battle take ear plugs. The Muslims win the first battle and take the castle. Later there is a second embassy, this time the roles are reversed and this time it's the Christians who win, for ever and ever. 

As well as the entradas of the Moors and Christians there are other events which may or may not happen in every town. One, which is a little confusingly named, is the Entrada de la Bandas. This is a sort of introduction to all of the groups often without their full regalia. I think in some places this sort of event is called a retreta.

These parades only happen once a year in each town. When they happen depends on local tradition so there are parades all year around. I've noticed that the mid year celebrations are becoming more common. Six months after the date of the main event there will be some sort of celebration and some low key events.

And now, I think, that's Moors and Christians done to death!

Moors and Christians: the real thing

A friend asked me a very simple question about Moors and Christians, the Moros y Cristianos festivals. What I thought would be a quick and easy blog now stretches over two parts. My usual disclaimer. This is not an academic piece so it is not 100% accurate.

Moor is a slightly derogatory term for someone from North Africa. The term Moor doesn't really include Arabs, who come from the Arabian Peninsula, but most Spaniards don't let a little technicality like that get in the way and Moor gets used indiscriminately to include Arabs and, sometimes, with the wider significance of Muslim. Christians means Roman Catholics. It's relatively common for Spaniards to think that Methodists Episcopalians, Calvinists etc. aren't Christian. 

Moors and Christians are parades and events that take part in several Spanish regions, Murcia, Castilla la Mancha, Andalucia and Extremadura, but they are particularly associated with the Valencian Community and the area in which we live. They are a stylised re-enactment of the struggle between Muslims and Christians to control most of what is, today, Spain. 

The basic plot is this. By April 711 the Romans had left “Spain” and the Christian Visigoths were in charge. There was a bit of a squabble in the Visigothic royal family about who would be the next king and one of the potential rulers invited some Moorish troops over from North Africa to give him a hand against other pretenders. The Moors weren't that keen but when they did finally cross the straits of Gibraltar (which name comes from one of the invaders) they routed all the local Visigoths in double quick time. The invitation had been based on the premise that, loaded with booty, the Moors would use the return part of their ticket to North Africa but they must have liked the beaches, or something, and decided to stay. That was bad news for the ruling Visigoths.

The Moorish army, of about 10,000 swept on to capture the Goth capital, Toledo. The bloke in charge was called Tariq, (well he wasn't really but that's he nearest we get with our alphabet) and the next season another Moorish army crossed the Straits commanded by Tariq's boss, Musa. The two men and their armies met up in Toledo and then pushed on up North. The locals didn't put up much resistance and, within ten years, and never with more than 40,000 troops, the Moors had taken nearly the whole of Spain.

Now comes the "We shall fight on the beaches ..... we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender" bit. It's not true but it's a good story and it's a story that most Spaniards like.  It's 722 and the Moors are mopping up the remnants of the Visigothic army that has fallen in with some local resistance fighters led by a minor warlord called Pelayo. Pelayo gives the Moors a sound thrashing at a battle in Covadonga in Asturias. The Reconquest has begun. It's finally time for a Christian comeback.

The truth of it is that, if Pelayo ever existed, this was just a minor skirmish at best. The Moors were, in reality, stopped by Christians at the Battle at Tours in France (just 490 miles from London). There, in 732, Charles Martel, who was King of the Franks, stopped the Moors dead in their tracks and sent them scurrying back to the Iberian Peninsula and the land they called al Andalus.

From then on in it all gets really complicated. The children's history book version has the Christians slowly pushing the Muslims out - a bit like that line in the Harry Ford film Air Force One  where he kicks the nasty terrorist off  the plane to the immortal line "Get off my plane!". Actually it was hundreds of years of local rulers and warlords struggling for more land, more taxes and the booty of battle. Warriors and politicians on all sides making, and breaking, deals to suit their own purposes. You've probably heard of the 11th Century el Cid, even if you don't know who Charlton Heston is, he's a big Spanish hero though the truth of it is that he changed sides over and over again. The two cultures, Christian and Muslim, or three if you count the sizeable Jewish contingent, lived and worked side by side. That only fell apart when the Christians finally took control. At that point the Moors were given the alternative of converting to Christianity or getting out. The Jews were kicked out and the inquisition was set up to make sure that Christians toed the line (and ceded their wealth to the Church).  

The other complication was that there were, for most of the time of the Moorish occupation, two big power blocks in Spain. The crowns of Aragon and Castile. Aragon is sort of top right on the Iberian Peninsula (Catalonia, Aragon, Valencia and the Balearics) and Castile was most of the rest that wasn't Portugal. Any current day echoes there?

So, we've got two big blocks of Christians, that don't always get on, and a lot of Muslim held land. The frontiers are a bit elastic. Around our part of the world we have lots of castles. These frontier fortresses changed hands over and over. At any one  time they may just as well have been Castilians versus Aragonese as Christians versus Muslims. It was a product of both time and geography. It's one of the reasons why some towns around here are principally Castilian speaking and others are Valencian speaking. The Aragonese held towns speak Valencian and the Castilian towns don't. Of course in the end Ferdinand (of Aragon) married Isabella (of Castile), or the other way, to become the Catholic Monarchs thus uniting the two kingdoms. Together they were powerful enough to take the last Moorish stronghold of Granada, in 1492, and finally claim the Christian victory. That's the same year that they paid for Cristóbal Colón's (Christopher Columbus to you and me) adventure to find a new route to the spice rich Indies. 

Saleing away

Let's presume you're in Spain and you want a t-shirt or a bikini or a pair of trainers or a new phone. Even with the upheavals in retailing there are still real physical shops where you can go. Most of them will have the majority of their stock on show for you to browse. Occasionally you might have to talk to someone, to get your size in shoes for instance, but most people can do most of their shopping in, Bershka or Carrefour or MediaMarkt and a whole lot more, without speaking. You might need to make some sort of grunting sounds at the till but that's all.

It was not always so. Not that long ago shopping in Spain required a conversation. There was a counter and behind it there was someone to ask for whatever you wanted. They showed you things that you may or may not want and may or may not like - it could all become quite complicated. Also shops were pretty specialised. When we first needed electric bulbs for our new house I went to an electrical shop but it turned out I needed an ironmonger. And where could I buy inner soles or shoelaces? Sometimes the answer was obvious, bread from a bread shop and drill bits from an ironmonger, but it wasn't always so simple. 

Nowadays if you don't know where to buy something you just go to a Chinese shop - they stock everything but, in the dim distant past the answer, if you were in a big town, was the department store Corte Inglés. That's where I bought those inner soles and that was where you could browse pullovers or swimming trunks without needing an extensive Spanish vocabulary. Corte Inglés was nearly magical. It had things that you needed and things you wanted. It welcomed the well off and the ordinary person and it was swish with smart and helpful salespeople. It was a Spanish institution. I'm not sure what sort of financial shape it's in now but a few years ago Corte Inglés closed lots of stores, axed lots of jobs and tried to catch up with Internet retailing and the modern world. Britons might see parallels with John Lewis.

In that same antediluvian period the sales, the time that shops sold off old stock at reduced prices, were a big event in Spain. The Winter sales started on 7 January, just after the King's holiday (think Boxing Day) and the Summer sales started at the end of June. There were always scenes on the telly of people camping outside the door of big shops, and by that I mean Corte Inglés, and making a mad dash for the washing machine being sold at the price of a transistor radio or the Ágatha Ruiz de la Prada frock at a knockdown price. There were sometimes squabbles over goods, there was always pushing and shoving and a race to be won to get that special bargain.

Even in our time here the sales were still something special. There was no Black Friday, Amazon didn't do Flash Offers, there weren't year round discounts and Outlet Shops were few and far between but there were the sales. I've spent many a frustrating hour in Corte Inglés sorting through the brand names like Gucci, Hugo Boss, Calvin Klein,Tommy Hilfiger looking through the jeans or shirts for something that wasn't only left in sizes for someone with a tiny waist or a barrel chest. Every now and then I'd find something, a real bargain, and it all became worthwhile.

This year the January started last Sunday. Shops in most of Spain are still, generally, closed on a Sunday but last Sunday they were allowed to be open. Maggie had been doing her online homework and she wanted something from Corte Inglés so we went down to Elche where our nearest store is. As we passed L'Aljub shopping centre cars were queuing back down the surrounding dual carriageways presumably full of people setting out to find that sale time bargain. Corte Inglés was busy too. I had to go a car park level down to find a space. But the sales don't have that sense and purpose they once had. Instead of the jumble sale like racks of mixed clothing with bargains to be found for the persistent and determined it's now whole ranges marked down with a 40% off price tag. Sometimes they don't even give the sale price, there is a sign to say that the 30%, 40% or 70% will be knocked off at the checkout. Nobody has gone through items marking them down. Someone has given the stock control software a nudge and, when the sales are over, that change can be un-nudged. At least it gave one young lad the opportunity to impress his father with his mental arithmetic skills as he worked out the final prices. 

Corte Inglés has never been a cheap shop. 40% off a Calvin Klein pullover originally priced at 119€ isn't a bad discount but that 71.40€ price tag is still more than four and a bit times the cost of a similar cotton pullover at Primark. For me at least there's no adventure in that sort of pricing. I can probably do an Internet trawl to find something as cheap. The fun was in the hunt.

I really am beginning to sound like my Uncle Harry and his stories of fish and chips for a tanner or taking a girl out for a night on the town for half a crown. I suppose it comes to us all.

For the want of a nail

Last century, when Windows 98 was cutting-edge technology and when mobiles were big and analogue, I was in Mexico. I'd gone into a locutorio, a place to rent a computer with an internet connection for a few minutes. The Mexican keyboard layout was quite different to the British keyboard I was used to. The QWERTY letters were as they should be but the symbols were in different places. What's more the keyboard had done a fair few miles and lots of the keys were as highly polished as as the stairs of the spiral staircase in a medieval castle. I needed the @ symbol for an email address and I had to resort to Ctrl C and Ctrl V, cut and paste.

I was reminded of this the other day when I had to use a computer with a British keyboard layout - I spent ages staring at the strange layout when I wanted a / or a #, but the final nudge to write this blog came when the passport office refused to accept my address as being Caserío Culebrón. They didn't like the tilde, the accent over the i and o. Nowadays, living in Spain, I'd never consider buying a computer with a British keyboard layout for all the faffing about trying to put tildes and Ñ into words by resorting to tricky keystroke sequences. 

Spanish needs the tildes to show where the stress in a word goes and, sometimes, just to mark the difference between two words that are spelled the same way but have different meanings - tú for you and tu for your for instance. Or cártel for the drugs organization and cartel for a poster. If English used tildes, we'd be able to tell whether "I read the Times" is something we do habitually, present tense, or something we did yesterday, past tense.

When I first started to learn Spanish, the Spanish alphabet had 29 letters - 26 were shared with we British but CH, LL, and Ñ were three extra - 29 in all. By the way I'm just using capitals to make the combinations stand out more. The decision to remove them the CH and LL was taken in 1994 but some websites say that the letters weren't finally retired till 2010. Even with the CH and LL gone that still left 26 letters because of the ñ/Ñ.

Changing LL and CH didn't cause much fuss. They're just two letters together. Nothing really changed except for the way some words were presented in dictionaries and indexing systems. The Ñ is different. If it had been removed from the dictionary, then something like 15,000 words would have had to be spelled differently and the Spaniards (and other Castilian speakers) were dead against that. I'm sure you know the sound maybe because of the very famous Spanish word, mañana, or because of the name of the country, España.

The Ñ didn't appear in the official Spanish dictionary till 1803, but its history, as an independent, and particularly Spanish letter, goes back well over 1,000 years. Latin doesn't have the sound that the Ñ represents so there is no Latin letter like the Ñ. As memories of the Roman Empire faded in memory and as Romance languages like French, Italian and Castilian Spanish developed, so did a guttural, stressed, N sound. A way of writing the sound down had to be found. The French and the Italians eventually chose GN, the Catalans chose NY, and the Portuguese chose NH. At the time I'm talking about the only people who really wrote things were monks. They were responsible for copying and translating texts as these changes were going on. We know that, in Spanish, the Ñ triumphed, but for a long time, there was no standardization, and two or three ways were used to record this sound, sometimes in the same document. One method was to use a double N. The monks weren't just copying things out with a cheap biro - they were carefully crafting each letter on expensive parchment. The double N used both space and time. The monks found a simple solution, they put a little mark over the N to show that the sound should be read as the guttural N.

In the 13th Century, Alfonso X or Alfonso the Wise, the scholar king who is intimately linked to the reconquest of Murcia by Christians, ruled that the Ñ should be used to represent the guttural N sound. And when Antonio de Nebrija published his first grammar of Castilian in 1492, he too included this letter in his alphabet. The same Ñ is used in a couple of other local languages on the Spanish peninsula, in Galician and Asturian, and it was also used when lots of aboriginal South American languages, such as Quechua and Zapoteco, were first written down. We do exactly the same when we're faced with a name written in Arabic or Japanese script and reproduce it using the 26 letters we have at our disposal.

Mandarin Chinese is the most spoken language in the World. Next up, as mother tongue; it's probably Castilian Spanish. More people speak English than Spanish, but for a lot of those people, it's not their first but a second language. Despite this, in the digital age, there was a real threat to the survival of the Ñ. In 1991, the forerunner of the European Union wanted to standardise computer type keyboards, and, because of the dominance of English in the digital world, the suggestion was for the inclusion of just the 26 "English" letters. The Spanish Government was having none of it though. When the Maastricht Treaty was signed in 1993, the Ñ was enshrined and protected in this bedrock EU document as a cultural heritage.

It's an important letter. There are lots of Spanish words that change meaning completely if the N is changed for an Ñ. A favourite is año for year and ano for anus - one to bear in mind at Christmas card writing time. Cono for cone is not the same as coño which can be a quite strong word to describe an essential part of female anatomy as well as a good all round sort of curse word. There are lots of less exciting examples like cuña, wedge and cuna for cot/crib or mono for monkey and moño for a hair type bun. It goes on.

I wonder what the passport office would have done if I were a British citizen called Muñoz, Peña, or Zuñiga, all of which are pretty common Spanish surnames - ridden roughshod over my identity I suppose and changed my name. After all Michael Portillo pronounces his name in an English not Spanish way despite its origin.

Smoke signals

There's quite a lot of stuff that I'm aware of because I'm English. Stuff like knowing that Belgravia and Chelsea are rich parts of London, that Trafalgar Square is the (English) place to be for New Year, that Land of Hope and Glory will get a lung bashing the Last Night of the Proms and that haddock is not the usual fish in fish and chips but it was where I grew up. One of the pleasures and pitfalls of living in a place you were not born is that the common knowledge in the new place will be different. I've mentioned this in blogs lots of times before. I find it interesting, otherwise why would I be in the least interested in the story of Suavina lip balm and why would I keep going on about how strange Spaniards find it that we drink hot drinks with food or think that cheese and onion sandwiches are normal?

Last month we stayed over in Alcoy during the weekend of their Modernista Fair. Modernista, modernism is something else that I'd never really heard of till I got here. I thought you might not know either so I went in search of the two-line definition so necessary for the TikTok or Instagram generation we've become. In fact, there wasn't an obvious one. Most of the descriptions were quite long so this is a cobbled-together attempt: Modernism is an international style of art, often referred to by its French name of Art Nouveau. It was popular from the 1890s through to the first decade or so of the 20th Century. Modernism embraced architecture and applied art, especially the decorative arts. It frequently incorporates natural forms such as the sinuous curves of plants and flowers. The style is often asymmetrical and although wood was widely used there was a tendency towards modern, industrial materials like cast iron, glass, ceramics and concrete. If you know any Gaudí stuff he was very Modernista.

So there we are, in Alcoy, amidst a slew of people dressed in "Edwardian" costume demanding the vote for women and dancing very lively dances wearing bowler hats and tailcoats. As we strolled we came across a stall promoting PAY-PAY (pronounced like the pie in pork pie - so it's pie pie) cigarette papers. To be honest I haven't really thought of cigarette papers since my student days when I used to carry around Rizla King Size just in case anyone asked and then felt that sharing was appropriate. I noticed the stall though and wondered if this was another example of "every day is a school day". True enough there's a bit of history.

It says, on the PAY-PAY website that PAY-PAY is the oldest cigarette paper in the world. The papers were first manufactured in 1764 in Alcoy from where they were exported to many countries, especially to Latin America, often in exchange for tobacco. That's why the stand at the Modernista fair in Alcoy. 

The thing is though that on the Rizla website, they say their story begins in 1532 when Pierre Lacroix traded some of his rolling paper in return for a bottle of Perigord champagne. They go on to say that over a hundred years later, after Pierre’s rolling paper had been passed down for generations within his family, high volume production began. For years, for ordinary people, pipes were probably the most common way to smoke tobacco and the most common form of tobacco was the powder that we'd now call snuff. Rich people smoked their tobacco leaf wrapped in other tobacco leaves - cigars. If you didn't have a pipe to hand and the craving came over you then smoking the powder in any old scrap of paper was the way to go. Rizla say that, when they introduced a dedicated, rice based rolling paper in the late 1880s it took the market by storm. 

I found another website too about the history of smoking and cigarette papers. There there were lots of photos of people surrounded by clouds of smoke, quite unlike the gentle fug from Golden Virginia or Samson. That website suggests that Rizla, Raw and Smoking were the first important rolling paper brands. There is no mention of PAY-PAY though the site does say that the original cigarette papers were called Spanish papers. Who knows; were the Spanish there first or was it the French Rizla people? Do we really care?

In fact, having read all the PAY-PAY history it turns out that all that remains of the original company is the name; a bit like the Chinese MG cars. It looked for a while as though PAY-PAY were claiming that they invented the cigarette paper booklet, the interleaved papers of an appropriate size for rolling a ciggy, because they talk about the invention as being that of a Dominican friar from Xátiva, which is very close to Alcoy, in 1815. They give the game away though by saying that the PAY-PAY workshop was just one of several in Alcoy making the interleaved papers and that PAY-PAY was a brand name for the Pascual Ivorra workshop. Apparently this bloke's marketing strategy was to print allegorical engravings, to tell a moralistic or Christian story, on the outside of the packets. Over time the packets were to bear a long series on the history of Spain and others on famous people and on customs, costumes and traditional sayings. If you're as old as me you're now thinking of those little cards that used to come with PG Tips and if you're even older maybe cigarette cards.

At the end of this the only thing worth remembering is that if you get sent for some Rizlas down at the local estanco and there aren't any you have a name in reserve - but remember, pie pie not pay pay.

Walking with sheep

UNESCO produces a list of things of Intangible Cultural Heritage. Flamenco is on the list, so are baguettes. 

Dry Stone walling is on the list too - it got there after flamenco but before baguettes. You may think a blog about dry stone walling could be a bit "dry" but if the UN says that dry stone is one of things that makes all our lives richer then I think it's incumbent on us to believe them.

Dry stone involves building things with stones that are not bound together with mortar. The things don't fall down because the stones are naturally interlocked or because of the use of load bearing structures. Dry stone techniques use rough, field, stones. So, for instance, Inca temples built without mortar but with dressed stone are not considered to be dry stone structures. Wherever you come from I'm sure you know dry stone structures. 

Dry stone is most commonly used to build boundary walls but the technique can be used to construct anything from a way marker to a corral or a building. Around here the terraces (bancales in Spanish) are bounded by and held up by dry stone walls called ribazos. It's usually assumed (partly because they were responsible for so many agricultural improvements) that the bancales and ribazos, were built by the descendants of the North Africans, the Moors, who invaded Spain in the 8th Century. The problem is that field terraces use the local earth and field stones so that it's tricky to say whether they were built last year, last century or last millennium. Accurate dating of the terraces requires archaeological excavation. It turns out that the oldest terraces around here are Bronze Age, lots more are Moorish but the majority were actually built in the last three centuries.

The use of the bancales also varies. We logically assume, quite rightly, that terraces make hillsides easier to farm, and reduce the amount of soil carried away during torrential downpours. There are, though, other reasons for levelling the land. For instance, in this province, archaeologists have found that some of the Bronze age terraces were constructed as defensible positions to protect herds and flocks of animals as they were moved from pasture to pasture. This system of moving animals from higher to lower ground, from winter to summer pasture, is called transhumance. 

Transhumance has always been important in Spain, more important in some parts than others. In the 13th Century Alfonso X, the Spanish king, defined a series of tracks and routes and a whole load of rules and regulations to stop conflicts between the nomadic herders and more settled farmers. The rules defined the characteristics of overnight resting places, widths of the tracks etc. It's these ancient rights that still protect these paths as public spaces today. At their height, there were over 125,000 kms of tracks in Spain.

One of the reasons for the importance of transhumance was that, from the 15th to the 19th Century, Spain had a monopoly on merino wool. All that time the wool trade brought enormous wealth to Spain. It's usually the explanation behind huge houses in now almost abandoned villages. The fine merino wool was the best material, at the time, for making high value clothing like underwear and stockings. That monopoly was broken when the Spanish royals gave gifts of herds of sheep to their royal relatives in other countries. Also, around the same time, both the Duke of Wellington and Napoleon recognised the economic potential of the sheep and sent a few home as their armies battled it out in the Spanish Peninsular War. The Australian merino flocks are descended from that looted Spanish stock.

The tracks the animals move along are called vías pecuarias, cañadas and the big wide ones, the ones that have to be 75 metres wide, Cañadas Reales (Royal droves). In this area the big tracks are also called veredas. One of the most important routes that comes through Pinoso is the Vereda de los Serranos which starts up near Cuenca and goes on to Jaen. There are lots of branch tracks (just like our motorways, trunk roads and local roads). Most of the animals passing through Pinoso were headed for the coast around Cartagena.

In this area there is another link between dry stone and transhumance as well as ancient terraces. Field stones were used to build shelters, stone sheds, called cucos. They could be used by farm labourers at busy times to save travelling time and also for shepherds and drovers passing by on those rural rights of way. 

If you're local and you haven't seen them there are lots of cucos to the left of the road that runs from the Yecla Road down to Lel in the area called el Toscar and there are more alongside the road from Lel towards Ubeda - there are others in various places but these are easy to see from the road. Monóvar has the dry stone mapped out on this link and every now and again Pinoso and Jumilla Tourist offices do something about their dry stone.

Personal bias

Watching the TV news in Spain on Thursday afternoon. Thinking about the untrammelled stupidity of it all. About the actions of men, and it always seems to be men, like Putin and Sergey Lavrov sending people to kill and be killed. Wondering who is making money from this because behind almost every indecent act someone is making money.

Back at the news the next item was that the Partido Popular (PP) in Castilla y León had done a deal with VOX to form the regional government. It's not on the same scale but it is on the same spectrum of human wickedness. It's the first time that VOX has actually been in a coalition government. It's the first time since the restoration of democracy in Spain, in the period after Franco died, that the far right has actually been in government. It may be the first but it probably won't be the last.

I'm not sure how genned up on Spanish politics you are. I try to keep up but sometimes I despair because, every now and then, there is some event that those in the know know and I don't. Well at least I didn't till I did. There's just been a palace coup in the PP for instance and, until the moment it happened, I thought that everyone in that party loved their leader. Apparently not. All the journalists told me, after it had happened, that it had been on the cards for ages and that everyone had seen it coming. Not me.

Anyway. The basic plot of Spanish politics is easy. There's a traditional left wing and a traditional right wing party, a growing far right party, a fading far left party plus a crumbling centre. Oh, and lots of regional parties.

On the left there's the long established PSOE, Partido Socialista Obrero Español, the Spanish Labour party if you will. They're not that left really but they remember to talk about poor people every now and again. They don't forget Bill Clinton's campaign message "It's the economy, stupid" so they try not to upset the people with the real power too much or too often. Their problem is that they don't have a parliamentary majority. They are propped up by a coalition with Podemos. Podemos are to the left of the PSOE. Podemos are not that keen on kowtowing to the money men so they give their coalition partners a lot of gyp. Even with Podemos the PSOE still don't have a clear majority and they have to prop up each crucial vote with a rag tag collection of parties.

Podemos, as I've said before is further to the left than the the PSOE. For some people there is an equivalence between the nutcase left (Podemos) and the nutcase right (VOX). Podemos, formed in 2014, was born from a popular political uprising that said it didn't trust politicians at all. As soon as they got a few people elected though they stopped talking about radical alternatives and elected a party hierarchy just like everyone else. They also subsumed the remnants of the communist party. As everyone else clamours to show how pro Ukrainian they are this bunch got into bother for saying that sending weapons, going to war, wasn't a good thing. Podemos is losing voter support all the time. The PSOE and Podemos keep having little fallings out because, from time to time, Podemos stands up for something it believes in - like a decent minimum wage or rent controls - whilst the PSOE think this will alienate their more right leaning members and it wants to pick up the remnants of the next bunch, Ciudadanos.

Ciudadanos is a party in the centre. They started well, back in about 2006, but it's all gone wrong and basically, they're a spent force. They had a bit of a power struggle in their ranks a few years ago which did for them as they forgot to stay central. Instead of continuing to broker this concession from the right and that concession from the left they drifted right. Now nobody remembers why they voted for Ciudadanos instead of just continuing to vote PP.

The PP, the Partido Popular. The sensible right, the Conservative Party. They are a post Franco party with roots in a bunch called Alianza Popular but the PP, as such, was born in 1989. Like the PSOE this lot have been in power a couple of times. They're just in the middle of a meltdown at the moment. Their young (ish) leader had a dust-up with a young (ish) woman who heads up the Regional Government in Madrid. Isabel Diaz Ayuso, the Madrid president, is dead popular for doing that Boris thing, the Donald thing, of saying whatever comes into her head. The idea is to make real people think she's a real person too and not a scheming politician. As a result of that internal dispute the leader of the PP is in the throes of resigning and he's about to be replaced by a steady hand on the tiller politician from Galicia. Nothing is decided yet but if it doesn't happen, if he's not the next leader of the PP, then the drinks are on me.

Then there's VOX. They're a bunch of racist, misogynist, radical right wingers who came into being in 2013. They couch their hatred in dodgy logic. They don't say they think black people are worse than white people but they do complain about immigration, not immigration per se, illegal immigration. Those are the people who clamber over border fences and cross the Med in toy boats. You know what colour illegal immigrants are don't you? Or they say they don't think it's fair to centre on the violence against women, after all women menace men too, so what we should centre on is violence in general. VOX are gaining in popularity. This means that the PP is careful not to stray into territory where they may appear to be too liberal so as not to lose the most right wing of their supporters to VOX.

Then there are lots of regional parties. Some are there on a single issue - fair deals for rural areas is big at the moment for instance - but most are well established regional parties particularly from Cataluña or The Basque Country. There are left and right leaning parties in amongst the small parties, there are parties who want independence for their region and groups that have historic links to terrorism. If you're British just think SNP or Plaid Cymru or Sinn Fein with a bit of Caroline Lucas or George Galloway thrown in.

So we've got the political spectrum which goes from issue parties through regional parties on to left, right and centre parties.

The structure is straightforward too. At local level there are the town halls. Spain still very much votes for personalities rather than parties at the municipal level.

Next up is the Regional Parliament - Valencian Community, Andalucia, Basque Country, Cantabria and so on. The Regions are very important in Spanish politics. It's they who take care of the services that affect people all the time, like health and education. The presidents of the regions are often referred to as Barons (most of them, obviously, are still men with grey suits) because just like the bunch that made King John sign the Magna Carta they have a lot of political clout at all levels.

Finally the National Parliament, the Congreso de los Diputados. This is the one that meets in Madrid. Just like in the UK it has two "houses". The difference from the UK is that both the upper and lower houses are elected. The deputies, just like British MPs, but elected in a completely different way via a party led system of proportional representation, are the rank and file, everyday politicians who do as their party leaders tell them. The upper house, the Senate, like the Lords, is used to park politicians and to reward loyal service. There are actually some real politicians in the Senate too who do their bit in keeping the country running.

Perhaps I should have heeded the advice to never talk about politics or religion!

So this is Christmas

I haven't spent Christmas in the UK for umpteen years, so I may not be as expert on British customs as I think. Nonetheless, unless things have changed drastically, the first tentative signs of Christmas show up in the shops in September. By November the telly is full of Christmas ads full of good cheer, bonhomie and cute robins. Cities, towns and villages start to turn on lights from mid-December and even with online shopping I'm sure that shopping centres, supermarkets and places like restaurants and pubs get busier and busier through December, all building up to the big day. Finally, it's Christmas Day. You do your best to look pleased with the illuminated pullover and the novelty underwear and you console yourself by setting about the mountains of food. Boxing Day you might stay at home to and eat and drink more, or it may be that you have to visit relatives. Maybe, instead, you might thirst for action after so much slouching around and go for a bracing walk or head out to one of those unmissable Boxing Day sales. And that's Christmas really, well the Christmas for those of us who are reasonably financially secure. There's obviously the New Year's Eve stuff to come next week but that's not really Christmas, is it?

Now I've done Spanish Christmases to death in previous blogs but I did think I might be able to do a bit on the organisation and pretend it was something new. Just as I said that I may be wrong about British Christmases I have to remind you that any generalisations I make about Spanish Christmases are generalisations. 

Spaniards have their ways of organising things. That methodology may be better or worse but, usually, it's just different. Think about supermarkets. Being a Briton I might expect the Nutella to be alongside the jam but it isn't, it's with the sweets and chocolate. Think about what you consider to be morning, something that stretches till noon, whereas Spaniards consider that it runs till lunchtime, somewhere around 2pm. Consider how Spaniards often share food in the middle of the table, rather than claiming their own private portions. Consider how there are no continuity announcers on Spanish telly. Nothing but smallish details but things that might surprise someone new to Spain. 

It's a bit the same with Christmas. It starts later in Spain than in the UK, only a bit but definitely later. Even Vigo, where they really go to town on Christmas lights, doesn't switch on till around November 20th. Pundits always say that the starting pistol sounds with the Christmas lottery on the 22nd. Christmas Eve is big, big, big for family eating (I don't mean that literally, there's no turkey equivalent for Spaniards, no default Christmas meal, but it's certainly not family that you eat, no roast brother in law). Christmas Day is another day to eat with the family. Some Spanish families do gift giving on that day but it's still, probably, a minority of families who have Santa delivering gifts on Christmas Eve for Christmas Day. Boxing Day is nothing, well unless you're an Esteban in which case it's your saint's day - like in the song where the snow lays round about, deep and crisp and even. 

New Year's Eve is another family do with eating at home, wearing red underwear, popping twelve grapes and cava drinking all centring around midnight but, in most places, it's a family rather than a public event. That's obviously untrue if you're in the Puerta del Sol, or equivalent, at midnight but, as a general rule, the New Year is seen in at home and, after the campanadas, the older folk sip and nibble on whilst the younger people go out to do a bit of partying. 

But the heart of Christmas, the bit where everyone says "it's really about the children" is still to come. As January 5th and 6th approach the shopping frenzy heightens, the Royal Pages will be out and about collecting the Christmas lists for the Three Kings ready for the gift giving overnight on the 5th. That's the evening for the cabalgatas, the cavalcades, the town centre parades with their sweet throwing kings and elves, with camels, geese, flocks of goats (all of which are to be banned soon, or they may have already been outlawed, on animal cruelty grounds). One of the staples of the journalists in the crowd is to ask the sweet child with the high pitched voice which is their favourite King - The European one, the Asian one or the African one, all with their different coloured hair and beard (and maybe a boot polish face). Somewhere some city will get into the news for having Queens as well as Kings or some sort of politically correct twist to the event. This later Christmas is good if you're old enough to still give Christmas cards because, if you forgot any Spanish chums, handing over a card anytime up to the 5th won't be seen as being late. And the final, dying gasp of Christmas, the big doughnut shaped cakes on the 6th, the Roscón de Reyes. Oh, and of course the other big Christmas lottery del Niño, to add a certain roundness to it all.

After that, just as in the UK, there only remains the sighing on the bathroom scales and the sobbing as you check your card statement.

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And, if you're a glutton for punishment here are the links to several previous Christmas blogs 2011, 2012, 2014, 2016, 2017, 2017a

Shops, shopping and clicking

First my habitual opening diversion. Over the years there has been a fair bit of controversy from time to time about the skin colour of the actors who interpret Othello in the Shakespeare play. You probably know that the full title is The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice. Moor, from Blackamoor is an outdated and offensive term to describe a Black African or other person with dark skin. In Spain the word moro is the direct equivalent of moor. It's used to describe dark skinned people, usually people from North Africa: Tunisians, Algerians, Moroccans and Sahrawis. As with other, similar, words its use can be racist or not. Generally though, for most Spaniards, moro is just a descriptor, like the use of Eastern European, Whilst the media shy away from the word ordinary people don't. I haven't heard many suggestions of a name change for the Moros y Cristianos events though there are plenty of concerns about white people blacking up during those, and other, events.

Over in Petrer there is a shopping centre. Until recently it was called Bassa el Moro; Bassa the Moor. The  reason for such an odd name is that the shopping centre stands on the site where Bassa surrendered Petrer Castle to the Christian King Jaume I in 1265. The shopping centre recently changed name. It's now Dynamia. When I saw the name I immediately imagined some muscled bloke wearing his purple underpants over his tights but I'm sure the idea was to try and give a new image to the shopping centre which has been a white elephant for years. We used to go there quite a lot because it was home to our preferred cinema but then the cinema closed. We popped in the other day just to have a look at the new paintwork. It was sad. The place has almost no open shops. The cafes and restaurants have closed. Good luck to the new owners on revitalising it though it seems to be generally accepted that physical shops are in decline as we increasingly shop from our phones. The obvious problems of the Dynamia shopping centre made me think there may be a blog about the current situation of other local developments.

In broad stroke I suppose it's fair to say that shopping malls, the shopping centres where lots of individual retailers cluster together in purpose built buildings, are a 20th Century phenomena while department stores, one retailer building a big store with separate areas for separate types of goods, are more 19th Century in origin. I notice that the Burlington Arcade now advertises itself as the original department store so perhaps my homespun definitions aren't correct. Nonetheless it is true that department stores are having a tough time. Here in Spain the near legendary Corte Inglés, a quintessential part of Spanish city life, is struggling, laying people off and closing stores very much like John Lewis and Debenhams in the UK. This ties in with the idea that physical shops are now an outdated concept and that online sales are the way to go. We were in a shopping centre in Elche just a few hours ago though and, given that we are talking about Wednesday afternoon shopping, it looked to me as though lots of people haven't heard that they should be buying online.

Normally we venture into shopping centres because we are going to the cinema but from time to time we do go specifically to buy things. The one I like best, because it's big and because it has a bookshop, is probably Nueva Condomina which is over the border into Murcia. I think that the buildings were originally owned by the supermarket chain Eroski but they got into a lot of trouble with property speculation and sold the centre on a while ago. The last time we were there, over a year ago now because of the travel restrictions, it was still doing well with lots of bag laden shoppers, queues outside the cinema and a wait to get into the fast food cafes and restaurants. 

The other centre we tend to use, for shopping, is the Aljub in Elche; that's where we were this afternoon at the cinema. It's not a particularly big centre and I think that it's main attraction for us is that it's the closest to home and the easiest to get to. Again it was Eroski owned but they hung on in this one by reducing the size of their store so that other shops could open in the freed up space.

If those two seem to be doing OK the shopping centre almost literally across the road from the Nueva Condomina in Murcia, the Thader Centre, is dying on its feet. Every time we pop in there are more and more empty units. Probably it's saving grace is that it's home to one of the successful low price supermarket chains, Alcampo, and on the same site there is IKEA which seems to have some sort of fatal attraction for any number of people. It's the same story at the Puerta de Alicante centre which is, obviously enough, in Alicante. There even the shops opposite the string of tills in the Carrefour hypermarket are unlet but, just across town, the Plaza Mar 2 centre in Alicante seems to be doing OK. It could be because it's more central, it could be because the tram stops there or it could again, be the lure of Alcampo. Whatever it is the last time we were there, at the end of December, the Christmas shoppers were knocking us aside with gleeful abandon in their shopping frenzy. Of course personal perceptions can be wildly misleading. Busy does not, necessarily, mean profitable and it could be that we only ever see the places at their best but it certainly appears that there are big differences between the different developments.

While big shopping centres and online shopping are right enough we've been trying to do that shop local thing recently and I must say that whilst it might be more efficient getting stuff online from Amazon or in the flesh from a series of shops in the same space the service you get from our local shops can be much more uplifting and personal.

Democracy counts

The current Spanish Government is a coalition between a slightly left of centre political party, the PSOE, and a much smaller and much further left party, Unidas Podemos. The other week the leader of Podemos, Pablo Iglesias, a Government Vice President, said, a couple of times, that the democracy in Spain was flawed. As you may imagine this caused a bit of a fuss. Then, a couple of days later, a talentless rap artist was sent to jail for suggesting in his songs that terrorists were jolly nice and our King was jolly nasty. People protesting the incarceration took to the streets and did a bit of burning and looting whilst they were there. Podemos was mealy mouthed in its condemnation of the street violence. 

My own opinion is that Spain has a bit of a problem with some aspects of democracy. For instance a woman, who tweeted some old jokes about about ETA, the Basque terrorists, blowing up the admiral Carrero Blanco in 1973, was sentenced to a year in prison (time that she would never have served) though her sentence was quashed by a higher court. Similarly 14 musicians in Spain have been taken to court, presumably for the content of their songs, though, in the end, only two were locked up.  Generally though it's a good place to live with all of the safeguards you would expect from a solid democracy even if there is a tendency to set those safeguards to the side every now and again and to be heavy handed and over authoritarian. There are far too many examples of the limitations on basic democratic expectations, like access to information, being able to complain or expressing an alternative opinion without coming up against insuperable obstacles or facing either a hefty fine or a jail sentence. Then again I remember that the UK locked up a couple of rappers for singing a song.

Freedom House, a US organization that conducts research and advocacy on democracy, political freedom, and human rights begins its country profile for Spain with this summary paragraph: Spain’s parliamentary system features competitive multiparty elections and peaceful transfers of power between rival parties. The rule of law prevails, and civil liberties are generally respected. Although political corruption remains a concern, high-ranking politicians and other powerful figures have been successfully prosecuted. Restrictive legislation adopted in recent years poses a threat to otherwise robust freedoms of expression and assembly. A persistent separatist movement in Catalonia represents the leading challenge to the country’s constitutional system and territorial integrity.That sounds about right to me.

On Sunday morning I heard a piece on the radio based on the Economist Magazine's Democracy Index. I'd never heard of the Democracy Index but, apparently the UK magazine has been producing it since 2006. It quantifies the amount of democracy in 165 states. Not surprisingly their general, worldwide, conclusion is that the implementation of government imposed pandemic control measures led to a huge rollback of civil liberties in 2020. 

The Democracy Index score is based on five categories: 

• Electoral process and pluralism 
• The functioning of government 
• Political participation 
• Political culture
• Civil liberties 

There are a range of indicators within each of these categories and each indicator is scored. The questions are of this type: Are elections for the national legislature and head of government free?, Is the functioning of government open and transparent, with sufficient public access to information?, To what degree is the judiciary independent of government influence? 

From the score given to each country they are placed in one of four types of regime and ranked: full democracy, flawed democracy, hybrid regime or authoritarian regime. Although the score is plotted on a ten point scale it is presented in decimal format, 7.65 for instance, so it's actually more like a thousand point scale. Countries that score 8 and 9 are classed as full democracies, those with 6 and 7 as flawed democracies, hybrid regimes generally score 4 and 5 and authoritarian regimes score in the 1,2 and part of the 3 scale. 

The least democratic country on the scale for 2020 is North Korea with a score of 1.08. The most democratic country is Norway with a score of 9.81. Iceland, Sweden, New Zealand and Canada are right up there too. Surprisingly, in Western Europe, countries like Belgium, Italy, Greece and Cyprus are classed as flawed democracies because they score below 8 and, this time around, France slipped to that level. The best of Eastern Europe countries, Estonia, comes in as a flawed democracy as does the United States which is at position 25 with a score of 7.92. Just for a couple of my regular readers Russia is at 124, Qatar at 126 and Oman at position 136. Australia shares 9th position. In all the cases that's out of 167.

Spain does alright with a score of 8.12 and 22nd position. It's the lowest scoring full democracy in the table; teetering on the edge. The UK does better; full democracy with a score of 8.54 and position number 16. Ireland is better still, 9.05 and 8th place. 

So the Economist almost agrees with Pablo.

One King and Three more

It's a sort of Spanish Christmas Day today. Obviously Covid spoiled the usual parades and yesterday's buzz in the streets but the Three Kings were out and about delivering presents overnight and today the kids are on the TV news whooping over their booty. It's been good Christmas weather. Up North there have been the usual pictures of snowploughs doing their stuff, people leaving their houses by the upstairs window to slide down snowdrifts and shoppers using skis to get to the supermarket. In the Val d'Aran, the other day, the temperature was -28ºC. Here in Culebrón, for the Christmas period, it's usually been sunny by day and bitterly cold overnight. The water we put out for the cats was solid, solid ice this morning but I am glad to report that the extra insulation that we added to our water pipes seems to have done the trick and, so far, we've not woken up to frozen pipes and no water.

Today is also the day that the Pascua Militar is celebrated. I forget where we were, maybe visiting a Bronze Age Settlement or it could have been the cuco tour or even the one about the history of esparto production, but we got talking to this bloke. He was a bit of a conspiracy theorist. He told us that we should keep an eye on the Royals and the military. The Pascua Militar is a military ceremony that happens every 6th of January in the Royal Palace in Madrid. The King receives the President of the Government, the Minister of Defence, Minister of the Interior, the Chief of the Defence Staff, the Chiefs of Staff of the various branches of the military and lots of other martial types. It is true that only the other week, at the beginning of December, a bunch of over 400 ex military officers signed an open manifesto saying that the unity of Spain was in danger and complaining about commies in the coalition government, about the danger of the present government siding with the Catalans to break up Spain and lots more blah, blah blah of the sort that you'd expect from a bunch of moustache twirling, out of touch, dried up right wingers. It wasn't taken very seriously, at least publicly, but there were obviously echoes in that open letter of the tanks on the street in Valencia and the Guardia Civil bursting into parliament back in 1981 in an abortive attempt at a coup.

Back in 1981, on February 23, King, Juan Carlos I was relatively new to the job. He was a King that had been picked as Head of State by Franco, the old dictator, himself. The King was a member of the Borbón dynasty, he was married to Sofia from the House of Glücksburg (the Duke of Edinburgh's family) and he was titular head of the armed forces. On that long night he seemed to be on the side of the good guys. He went on TV to tell the army to stay in their barracks and the coup attempt fizzled out. That same King abdicated a few years ago and handed over to his firstborn, our current King, Felipe VI. The old King stepped down because he was getting old and infirm but also he'd become very unpopular, mainly because of parading one of his mistresses a bit too publicly but even more so for the pictures of them standing over an elephant that they had just slaughtered. He's now called the King Emeritus. In August he ran away amidst the scandal of a $100 million kick back from the Saudis and just recently he handed over 600,000€ to straighten out a bit of tax that he'd forgotten to pay. Oops a daisy! Reputation in tatters.

Now I don't care about Royalty. I've always lived in countries with royals; here, in the UK and even in Saudi Arabia. Royals seem to be a bit of an anachronism in the modern world but I don't get too worked up about them. When they all married their cousins they could at least claim the bloodline and some interesting genetic deformities but now that they all marry actors, journalists, handball players and nursery nurses they're just another sort of celebrity - like footballers and people who make sex tapes. I don't worry too much about the Kardashians, Beyoncé, Dua Lipa or C. Tangana either. Our King here seems like a nice enough bloke. His children seem well behaved and I liked the story about him stopping off for a set meal at some roadside restaurant but I hope that he's just another irrelevant rich person and that the conspiracy theory man wasn't right, especially given the date.

Zilch, nada

I was trying to think of what to write. I wondered about something on having to wear masks in public. I thought about the slight loosening of restrictions - being able to get a beer outside a bar or go into a shop. Neither smacked of Herodotus nor even of Stephen King. And the message has all been a bit mixed up too; freer movement promised to people living in small towns, announced last weekend, still hasn't been enacted.

Next I considered the political argy bargy. I have been thoroughly appalled at the way that the opposition parties have been trying to make political capital out of the continuance, or not, of the state of alarm, the constitutional state which allows for a "unified command". Then it turned out that our President had done a secret deal with a political party that has a dodgy, terrorist, background, and kept it from his colleagues. Bang went the moral high ground.

What about the unrest on the streets, the people banging pots and pans to protest about the perceived government mishandling of the situation? To be honest that's not much of a story really. If you've been locked up in your house for going on three months, if the promised government "temporary dole" hasn't materialised and your mortgage is unpaid and everything you like to do has been scrubbed then it doesn't take much of a social media campaign to get a few hundred or even a few thousand people on the streets to moan and groan.

I wondered if there was something in the uncivic attitude of quite a lot of people. I think anti social would be the translation but uncivic seems so much more descriptive. We've spent all this time locked up to find tons of young people flouting the rules and cramming into bars and having beach parties because they're fed up of not being able to. That's not either interesting or particularly Spain related though is it?

What about working with my sources of outside stimulus? The books I've read or the stuff I'm watching on Netflix and Filmin? What about all the podcasts that I'm still listening to? Maybe there's something about the street Spanish I've been picking up from those sources. Boring - and I've done it before. I will though, thanks to the Netflix series Valeria, be off to Madrid as soon as they let me. The city really just looks so brill and what's that beer they drink all the time?

I considered the, hugely commented, Twitter post where someone, presumably British, said they'd made a Spanish omelette. This is one of those things where the failure of two nations to understand the other is a simple failure of translation. Spaniards think that the thick egg omelette with lots of veg., that Brits call Spanish omelette, is a blasphemous recreation of the Spanish tortilla de patatas. Mistreating the tortilla de patatas is nearly as bad, in Spanish eyes, as overcooked rice with things being described by foreigners as a paella. But I realised that unless you live here the fuss about recipes would almost certainly seem like time wasted.

So, nothing then, none of them would make a decent blog. Bother!