True Grit!

It is 1155am on a warm autumn morning and I have just enough time to deliver my package to Eduardo in the city before the long siesta begins at 1 o’clock. Tomorrow I will be travelling and will not have enough time to meet with up with him.

Starting out on my short journey to Figueres I am immediately faced with a problem, a problem in the shape of my neighbour. Though I have tried to befriend him he seems to have taken an exception to me, and worse still he has even tried to stake a claim to my land.

Our paths cross on an increasingly regular basis and on each of those occasions he stands his ground, forcing me to change direction should I dare to pass him in the calle. Today is no exception, and once again the diminutive one eyed Mexican has fixed me in his gaze. He is the new guy in town; he is determined to make his mark and is certain that he will not allow me to get in his way. The higher ground he occupies gives him another advantage, too far along the camino, I can not go round him I can only face him or retreat.

The Mexican’s smaller stature only serves to emphasise his muscular frame. Even the lameness on his left side does not detract from his confident posture.

I need to pass him for there is no other way out of the pueblo. For what seems like an eternity we are locked in what is rather appropriately known as a Mexican stand-off. I check my watch, it is nearing High Noon.

Only when Margarita calls him away does the unrelenting gaze of his one good eye shift momentarily from me. That moment is enough! And I seize the opportunity, moving towards him purposefully. Margarita calls out to him once more. His one good eye focussed on me as he begrudgingly moved out of my path leaving only just enough room for me to pass.

When I look back I can see that he is heading for my land, maybe he is going to stake a claim!

Ay! Mi Chihuahua!

Temperature gauge

I now have a more reliable weather forcaster or rather team of forcasters. They are the Geckos who gather each evening around the exterior lights of the Villa. Once the lights are switched on the insects which make up their food supply will be attracted to the light souce and also to the geckos.

The Geckos which look like baby crocadiles, they come and go with the heat. I counted 7 last night and sure enough today the temperature touched 100 degrees!

What on earth is that?

Spanish market places are a delight. You will be amazed at the variety and quality of the local produce on offer. Wonderful fresh vegatables that somehow seem to miss the tourist menu. The numerous varieties of pulses and dried fruit on offer. On the butchers counter unfamiliar cuts of meat await you, nothing on the pig is wasted not even it´s whistle. Encounter strange and exotic seafood much of it walking around the display if not between your feet.

I suspect that many foreign visitors play the same guessing game of trying to name the creature.

Just remember if it walks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck; then the chinese probably have 40 recipes for it!

Playing the game.

Women, so we are often told and often by women themselves; are far better at the comminications game than men,why this should be so no one really knows for sure.

I believe that we all have the same sized bag of letters with which to form words from, and just like a game of scrabble it´s how you use them that counts. Women just seem so much more adept at it than men.

In Spain, Españoles play the game just the same as us. A Spanish man when negating a statement or an action will use the word ´no´.A very simple and at the same time powerful word. He will pick up extra points because he simply repeats the word,

¡No! !no¡ !no¡

His female counterpart elaborates the same short phrase so that it becomes!No¡ !nnnnnnnnnn no¡ picking up extra points for all those n´s at the bottom of her letters bag.

Thunderbolt and Lightfoot

Thunderbolt and Lightfoot are two of the most miserable looking men you could wish to encounter.

Lightfoot is the unofficial sentinal of the village watching all the comings and goings of the inhabitants. I once returned shortly after midnight to find him gone. My god I´ve beaten him! He´s given up watching me. But there he was lurking in the shadows of a cherrytree partialy illuminated by the eiree glow of the streetlighting. One day I´ll do it .............

Thunderbolt as the owner of an ancient bicycle is retained by the Junta to deliver their official correspondence. To say he takes his role seriously is an understatement. It is possible to gauge the contents of your mail without opening it simply by looking at him. A faint smile means bad news, prohibition or censure. A blank expression means goodnews on the otherhand!

Theirs is an unlikly partership. They spend each and every summer evening sweltering in the humid night air watching the comings and goings of the villages. Hardly a word passes between them and still they are team.

And so it came to pass!

Or rather,

"Passe y control" "Passe y control"
as rather excited Spanish football commentator was advising `La selection de Español´; during their endevours at the 2006 football world cup finals.

Passing movements were described as,

"Ticky taca,ticky taca,ticky taca"

Even the dullest passage of play was enlivend with,

"Futbol passion de multitudes"

An exclamation of,

"Huevos fritos" - fried eggs
must of meant something to his Spanish audience, even if it bemused me!

The all time favourite remains,

"GOl,golgolgolgolgolgolgolgolgolgolgolgolgolgolgolgol, España. Viva futbol,viva futbol,viva futbol"

Motson eat your heart out.