Quiet In My Town

Alcúdia old town. Towards the end of March. Not long before Easter. It is late afternoon, kids are kicking a ball near to the tourist information office, which is closed. A dog is on the terrace above El Limón. It barks at every passer-by and then scrapes the green shutter door, which is closed. There are people around, but not so many. Manuel at Sa Caseta says there's no-one, but he is at least open. And so he should be, the pizzas are to die for.

People stand out because there are not so many of them. This was once his town. What happens when you cease to - in effect - run the place? What happens when you head off to another post? Elsewhere. In Palma. And then suddenly you don't have that either. Not that it was your fault. You did it because it was a career move, I suppose.

He looks tanned. Maybe this is what you do. Go away on holiday. Get away to some warmer sun than Mallorca has to offer in February or March once you've lost your job. How does it feel though, do you suppose, knowing that this used to be your town? Someone stops him and has a brief chat. Everyone knows him of course. For many, he still does run the town. Or so they might think, but then remember that he doesn't. Perhaps they feel a bit sorry for him.

He's walking with his daughter, at least one presumes it's his daughter. There is a little dog, a puppy that races up and sniffs my shoes. I say hello. He knows he knows me, but can't quite place me. I want to stop and actually ask him how it feels, but somehow that seems tactless. I walk on. It's possible that it doesn't bother him, but you wonder what he's doing, other than strolling in the streets of Alcúdia on a late March afternoon.

I go into the Constitution Square. I'm waiting and just looking. Staring at the tops of the pink and orange buildings, at the brown shutters and at the coffee and cake board for the German late-afternoon in March tourists. I watch. He walks past the chemists, down what we would call the high street. The town hall, the Casa Consistorial. The doors are closed.

Who is he?

Miquel Ferrer, the former mayor, the former tourism minister, strolling past the shut-tight doors of the town hall building of the town that he used - in effect - to run.


QUIZ:
Bit obscure maybe, but this is a US-based South African indie group.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.