A Smaller Arse: Cultural Musings

Well, I thought you might like to be kept up to date with developments on the book. Things moved ahead apace yesterday, so much so that when the umpires announced close of play after some twelve hours of dogged translating, interpreting and querying, we (or rather I) had reached another of our good chums, the Pollensa priest Miquel Costa i Llobera and his old pine of Formentor.

What on the one hand is a fairly gruelling assignment is, on the other, somewhat enlightening, and that includes the fixing of the Enlightenment in the scheme of things. The book is no more than a surface-scratching romp across the centuries but it does place developments in context. The Enlightenment, the French Revolution, the rights of man acquire powerful roles that one can perhaps forget until they are placed within the context of dominating characteristics, such as religious superstition and the power of the noble class.

In terms of Mediterranean culture (and the place of Mallorca in its world), that upheaval in thought, reason, liberalism and a certain liberation, the principal gain - where the book is concerned - is the degree to which the culture became the object of curiosity from further afield. Hence, and naturally enough, a fair amount of attention is paid to yet another familiar figure, the Archduke Louis Salvador of Austria. Importantly, it is the relationship formed with the sea and the extent to which the sea embodies (if a sea can do such a thing) a spirit and a culture formed by the melding of societies over hundreds and indeed thousands of years. Which is all good philosophical stuff, one has to guess.

What is perhaps the most striking aspect of all this is that, as a translator, one becomes more embedded within the perspective of the author than might be the case by being a later reader of this minor saga. Being taken along for the ride in a continuous fashion, one does start to see things a touch differently. This is only natural. The world view is a Mallorcan and a Mediterranean one, not a northern European (British one) onto which a culture has been grafted. This assumption of an alternative culture and world view goes only so far, it seems to me.

With this in mind, one event is revealed as having greater force than a northern European can imagine. There is a continuity from the very start of the book of the almost landlocked nature of the sea. Almost but not wholly. That's because of the Strait of Gibraltar. The event is 1704 and the British occupation. This lends itself to a whole article, so I'll leave it as a taster. There's another chapter and then a timeline of more than 9,000 words to be cracking on with. 

MALLORCA TODAY - Greater abundance of jellyfish this summer

Scientists say that jellyfish in the Mediterranean are more abundant and larger than in the previous three years but that concentrations are primarily off the coasts of Valencia and Catalonia rather than around the Balearics. However, they add that the Portuguese man o' war has been seen already this summer around the islands. There was a "plague" of one species of jellyfish that affected Can Picafort early in May, while there were reports of jellyfish in Cala San Vicente as well.

See more: Diario de Mallorca

Going To The Beach: Days of drought and tsunami

A major report into the effects of climate change on Mallorca has been released. Don't worry, I want go into detail. You can guess at much of it anyway. Prepare to meet thy doom some time soon, and if you happen to have a property near to the sea, then best to check the small print on the insurance policy or get the sandbags in sharpish.

The latest report (from the university in Palma and something known as the centre for scientific investigations) should send shivers through anyone who has anything to do with Mallorca. Well, it would do were it not likely to make you feel even hotter than at present. It's hard to shiver at 30 degrees. It will be even harder when that 30 rises and rises.

None of what is now being said is that new. We already know about rising sea levels and temperatures. But there are some newer concerns - extended periods of drought and a greater propensity for severe hurricanes and tsunamis, neither of which would be good news were you to be lying on a Mallorcan beach, reading this (which is unlikely I admit). A prediction of a 20 centimetre rise in sea levels and 20 metre losses of beach and coast might have you gathering up the lilo and heading for Inca. All of which would be bad enough, but it is the time frame that should really give the shivers. Forty years from now.

Presumably, there won't be a day in 2050 when the sea suddenly decides to rise and when the beach slides into the Med. Were, for example, one able to say that 17 April, 2050 would be the day, then one could plan accordingly, i.e. by doing nothing for at least three decades. Unfortunately, it's unlikely to happen in this way. (What am I saying, unfortunately?) Because the rise and the loss will occur over time, this makes them seem rather less threatening, which also means doing nothing. And that's the nub of the issue. Is anyone actually doing anything?

The Costas are one department of government which is up to something, much to everyone's annoyance. It may act as an eco-Terminator trampling over illegal buildings and blasting the Don Pedro hotel, but maybe even it is not as bonkers as many would have it. "Hasta la vista." Perhaps it should be: "That vista, the nice one of the sea and that nice beach?" "Oops, there goes the beach, and watch out for those bloody great waves."

Then there's this trifling matter of drought. Rainfall is predicted to decline by almost a quarter. It has been said by certain enviro-ists that Mallorca has overstretched itself in terms of resources. And water is one of them. Who'll fill all those pools in future? The balcony divers should be warned.

Greenpeace and the United Nations are just two bodies who think it might make some sense to plan for the day when 25 metre waves and the loss of coastline occur. Though sea rise and beach disappearance will be, or should be, gradual, there is, worryingly, the chance that beach could indeed just go - on a given day. And this is because of the possibility of earthquakes in the Med which would produce tidal waves.

Mind you, there might be some benefit from all this. The agonising over certain local matters would subside, even if the waters didn't. Pedestrianisation in Puerto Pollensa? Don't worry about it. There won't be a Puerto Pollensa. Golf course in Muro? Forget it and invite back that company with an idea for an aquatic theme park. There wouldn't be plenty of fresh water, but there'd be plenty of another type of water for them to help themselves to.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

The Great Smell Of Fish

Jesus, where did this wind come from? And what is it with the wind that it can blow in different directions at once, or seem to. This morning, going along the road into Puerto Alcudia, there was what looked like mist ahead. In fact it was a sort of mini sand-storm. In the afternoon, the wind turned round and started blowing a gale from the south. April is probably the most damn contrary and obstreperous month of all. The weather can never seem to let it lie. Always up to some trick or other. There's me wanting to take some lovely photos across the pinewalk, and the wind blows the equivalent of the Sahara straight at me. Actually, I made that up. I postponed the appointment because of the Sahara, though it wouldn't have been the Sahara as that's in the other direction, but you know what I mean, or maybe you don't.


But to matters of greater weight. The season is not even started and there is more fretting about jellyfish. Some eminent Spanish scientist is arguing that the Med is going to become like "jellyfish soup" (whatever that's like) because of over-fishing and the consequent abundance of the tentacled monsters. In fact, we may get a chance to find out what jellyfish soup is like as there won't be any other fish left apart from jellyfish. That's if Spain carries on its fishing policies, and the Government keeps handing over subsidised folding notes to the fishermen to go out and decimate the stocks of tuna etc. Haven't we been here before with the Spanish and fishing? Didn't the British have a run in over quotas and all that malarkey? There does seem a bit of imbalance in some European governments' approaches. Like the French and the farmers, ditto the Spanish and the fishermen. Anyway, this eminent scientist is calling for a 50% reduction in catches. Fat chance. They'll merrily go on fishing until the last sardine's been barbecued and then the fishermen will ask for some further hefty subsidy so that they can go and do something else, like building golf courses no one wants.

It is part of the local culture that regulations are there to be ignored, and fishing is a good example. Now, the tourist coming along with his rod is hardly deep-sea fishing and a great threat to the tuna stocks, but there is many a tourist who comes here to enjoy some angling past-time. And plenty of tourists ask about fishing on the Internet. "Where's best to go?" etc etc. I've given up letting people know that, officially, you are meant to have a licence, because all you get back is some reply that goes along the lines of "I've been fishing in Mallorca since Nelson was a lad, and never etc, etc ..." And of course that's the case. The plod don't bother, or seemingly they don't bother to check up on licences. The fact is that it is actually very cheap to get a licence - around 11 or 12 euros for a year if memory serves. But the problem is getting a licence. The nearest office is in Sa Pobla, and the form requires typical all manner of local bureaucratic nonsense. As a consequence, no one bothers. Yet if, say, there were to be fishing stamps that could be bought at the tabacs and other places, might this not bring in a bit of income? A euro for a fortnight's permission. That wouldn't be too bad. The trouble is though no one would buy them unless there were dirty great notices up saying that anyone found without a licence will be fed to the fishes. Even then, the police still wouldn't bother.

I suppose if the national government is quite happy to let fishermen trouser taxpayers' money to go and empty the sea of its fish life, then that's a good enough lead to say that actually we don't really care if you do go fishing, with a licence or not; regulation or no regulation. And finally ... I really hope we don't end up having to eat jellyfish. Doubtless there are Chinese and Pacific Islanders who swear by them, but if you've ever seen a purple stinger beached and pulsing its final moments, it's the last thing you'd want to take down your neck.


QUIZ: Yesterday - Big Country, and I can report that Geoff mailed to say he once bought a Big Country record in Cala Millor, which in itself should inspire me to a piece about record shops or the lack thereof. Watch this space. Today's title? And like the weather, I'm feeling a tad contrary myself. So, where the hell does this come from? Not a song. Radio. Think a DJ and posse.

(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)