Too Shy, Shy

And so, after all the rubbish weather comes the hot stuff. We were told to expect it, and with due predictability, on the back of what was more like March weather, the lows have turned to very highs, with some forecasts talking of temperatures up to 35 or 37 degrees (99 in old money). One of the surprising aspects of this, surprising as Mallorca is hardly immune to hot weather, is that the authorities feel the need to give out a warning and advice, but I guess the message can never be made too often.


Excitement mounts as Spain move on to the semis of Euro 2008. Thank God they beat Italy. Otherwise, amid all the attacking football, there might have been the prospect of the Italians boring their way to the championship. Spanish TV went overboard, extending its programme in order to accommodate even more pockets of advertising. Heaven knows what will happen if they actually win the thing - a feast of advertising opportunity till three in the morning beckons. It was a truly rotten game, but the victory offered the chance to see how truly rotten TV here can be. Shambolic hardly does justice to the post-match presentation of the Cuatro channel ("podemos", we can; no you cannot). You couldn't tell what was advert and what was frantic, hastily-cobbled-together reaction. There was even some bizarre thing which involved speaking to a group of about ten supporters in front of a huge banner that read "Kia Fest"; motor cars are the stuff of Euro championship advertising, especially Korean cars. The chap who was packed off to do the interviews in front of the multi-sponsored board was like the cat who'd got the cream when he managed a few words with the King after he had emerged from the team's changing room. "I spoke to the King, I spoke to the King," was what he wanted to say. The King does at least turn up for these events. Think of him what you may, but there is no denying his support for Spanish sports teams. There was once, and it must have been the 2004 Olympics, the time when he and the Queen attended the medal ceremony for some minor sport - rowing perhaps. The medals duly divvied up, the King and the Queen then engaged in much kissing and hugging with the Spanish gold medallists; it was all rather touching, and you couldn't have imagined the British royal family acting in such a way.

The real star of the Spanish win though was not one of the players but someone I have had cause to have a go at here - namely the coach Luis Aragones. After Fabregas scored the winning penalty, what did Aragones do? Go into a David Pleat-like leaping fit? No, he picked up something from the bench, was embraced by someone and then walked off. Nothing more. Avram Grant had Mourinhoesque charisma compared with Aragones. In the lead up to the penalties, all he did was walk on to the pitch with a piece of paper to tell the players who were taking the pens and then went and sat down again. No motivational speeches, no imploring, just a sense of this is your job, now get on and do it. But it was the post-match press conference that really gave us an insight into Aragones. He was there with the eloquent captain, Iker Casillas. When Casillas left, you could see Aragones was thinking: "I'm on my own here". He scratched his neck and his ear and he mumbled into the mike. He was shy. He obviously hated it all. He has gone up in my estimation.


Meanwhile, away from the euphoria of the football, the lousy economic situation has prompted the Balearic Government into holding talks with various bodies, such as the unions and business groups. Whilst the economy is said, by the government, to be "robust", ways are being sought to combat the current problems, not least unemployment. And so what will they be proposing? More construction. Yep, even more construction. This may make sense as a short-term fix, but it fails to address the weakness of the Balearic economy, which is its reliance on construction (and tourism). And the recent record with siphoning off public money into the private sector for undertaking public works has not been uniformly successful, owing to the problems of indebtedness that some of these firms have.


QUIZ
Chain - Crowded House, "Four Seasons In One Day" to The Four Seasons and "Who Loves You". And what connects The Four Seasons to American pop act of the '60s, The McCoys? Yesterday's title - "World In Motion", New Order (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nQItOROYlc). Today's title - who? Had them here recently.

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One On One

According to Thomas Cook, which has published a Holiday Cost of Living survey (reported in "The Bulletin" yesterday), Mallorca is the eighth cheapest holiday destination out of ten listed. Quite whether that means that Mallorca is cheap is open to question I suppose; the other way of putting it is that it is the third most expensive. Words, like statistics, can paint a thousand cost-of-living pictures. Anyway, the Cook's tour of various international destinations and their bars, supermarkets and other places checked out the comparative costs of 15 goods and services, among which were - a draught beer and a packet of cigarettes - and came up with an average daily spend for your Brit tourist of 57.80 quid (or about 73 euros for those of us who have long forgotten how to evaluate things in pounds). The tour operator estimates this little lot of 15 items works out at a saving of a bit under 15 quid compared with costs in the UK.

Whilst not entirely uninteresting, the survey does have one flaw, and it is revealed in that little word, the indefinite article "a". Admittedly, the 15 items do also include a bottle of beer, a double spirit and mixer and a bottle of wine which, together with the aforementioned "a draught beer", might, you would have thought, be sufficient alcohol for one day's intake, but more than one item might just as easily be preceded with "several". Where "a" might remain applicable would be in the altering of the item concerned to "a gallon of draught beer" or "a carton or two of Embassy". Even the most committed of smokers might find it hard to actually puff away a full two hundred per day, but a cursory observation in the tabacos of Mallorca would reveal that a carton or two (duplicated by a factor of at least ten) would not be an inaccurate estimation of the average spend.

Then there are other items in the basket that are of dubious singularity. Take a can of Coke, an ice-cream or even a UK paper. One can of Coke and one ice-cream would be barely adequate in fuelling a Brit child's hyperactivity and dietary requirements for an hour, let alone a day, which of course is one reason why all-inclusives are so popular. And whilst I was on research duty at the Continental Park the other day (see yesterday's piece), a gentleman of bellydom came to reception to ask for not just "The Sun" but also "The Star". Or maybe two red-tops constitute a - one - newspaper, though even that would be doubtful.

One might also argue that the Cook's recipe of expenditure overlooks certain other necessities, such as the all-encompassing "a trip to the chemists" - a box of paracetamol needed to cope with the hangover is, after all, easily polished off in a day or so, washed down with a gallon of draught beer, while there are all the other pharmaceutical and medical requirements - the stuff to deal with mosquito bites, something for little Tyler's ear infection that he got after going in the pool and of course a family-sized bottle of anti-sunburn cream, and having seen one example of a super-sized family at the "super family" Continental Park, make that two.

Still, Mallorca can be content with its eighth place, as the island is holding its own against the competition of Florida, in ninth, and Croatia at number ten. Moreover, when it comes to the events for single items, Mallorca does well in the pint-of-beer competition, fifth behind the champion cheap-beer destination, Cuba, though the cost of that Mallorcan pint (1.86 pounds or about 2.35 euros) does rather depend upon where and which beer. Not sure what Thomas Cook would have made of it all; his first excursion was, after all, for fellow members of the Temperance Society.


QUIZ
Chain - Split Enz was Neil Finn's group before Crowded House. And the connection from Crowded House to "Who Loves You (Pretty Baby)"? Yesterday's title - A Tribe of Toffs. Today's title - it's from a footy song. Which one?

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John Kettley Is A Weatherman

Oh, the insecurities of the Internet. The paranoia of so much and too much information that has users permanently attached to their keyboards. Take weather. Somewhere, I read someone say that Alcúdia's weather forecast shows showers and fog over the next ten days. And this someone then asked if this is correct? The Internet has bred whole cyber-campuses of experts who are not, but unless, for example, John Kettley happened to be passing this particular forum, how on Earth can anyone respond to this insecurity? I was tempted to respond if only because I looked at the same link and it said sunny and hot, but I didn't bother as the enquirer would doubtless have already consulted all possible weather sites in search of reassurance. I know the weather is important, but the Internet has caused a state of panic, which brings me to another example, this one related to the Continental Park Hotel in Playa de Muro (and take note of those words Playa de Muro, as I shall return to this).

There was a whole exchange in which, based on, as it turns out, an error in the brochure and some plain ignorance, there were thoughts of changing to another hotel and terrible fears that a holiday would be ruined. Because of all this, the Continental Park, which had hitherto languished in Division 1 of local hotels when it came to enquiries, was not only promoted to the Premiership but was also challenging for Europe alongside the usual suspects - Bellevue, the Macs, Lagomonte and Lagotel. But there was salvation for those seeking alternative all-inclusive havens to take the place of the Continental, and this was in the form of reviews on yet another site which gave the place good marks. So, all was good in Continental-holiday land as someone somewhere unknown had said that all was fine and so extended an arm of reassurance around the quaking and anxious shoulders of the Internet.

But something else struck me in the Continental discussion. Someone said that she was surprised to learn, because someone had said so during this discussion, that the Continental was not in Alcúdia. I am not surprised, having looked at Thomson's website. If one goes there, under Alcúdia are listed a number of hotels, some of which are indeed in Alcúdia, but the following are not - in addition to the Continental Park and Apartments, Alcúdia Suite, Amapola, Parc Natural and Rio Mar. They are all in Playa de Muro. And it's not as though Thomson don't recognise the existence of Playa de Muro as they list one hotel if you click on the resort, that hotel being Los Principes, on the beach side of the road opposite the Continental.

How can they be so inaccurate or misleading? How can, for example, the blurb for the Rio Mar, which is before the canal going towards Alcúdia Pins and Can Picafort, state: "then walk your dinner off with an evening stroll along the sands or head for one of Alcúdia's bustling bars"? Which bars might these be? Those of Bellevue? Then the stroll would be, how long, 45 minutes? An hour? The blurb does at least locate the hotel "a hop, skip and a jump away from the shimmering sands of Muro beach" (for God's sake, and now you might know why I have a problem with "brochure talk"), but the Alcúdia reference is way off-beam. For Alcúdia Suite, which is opposite the Laberinto Giant Maze, the site says that the apartments have "the added bonus of being within easy reach of all Alcúdia has to offer". Yes, if you don't mind a trek or a bus. For the Continental, there is no reference to either Playa de Muro or Alcúdia from what I could see, apart from the fact that it is located under Alcúdia on the site.

Apart from anything else, when I was talking about Muro town hall's thoughts about some plan for promotion, I said one of the biggest challenges lay in creating an identity that is separate to Alcúdia. And the Thomson website shows just how much of a challenge. The Muro worthies should start by telling the tour operators to make damn sure that they know what is Alcúdia and what is Muro.


QUIZ
Chain - Paul Young covered "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House. (See here for the better version, i.e. the original: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZZfuCJ970w) And who, basically, were Crowded House before they became Crowded House? Yesterday's title - Fifth Dimension, "Up, Up and Away". Today's title - who did this? They didn't do much else.

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Way Up In The Air

And more on Air Berlin. There wouldn't have been had I not received a comment appended to 18 June's thing. It may have escaped your attention, so I reproduce it:

"In regards to the Air Berlin fiasco, are you implying that the Balearic island government “demanded” that Mallorqui be spoken in flights, or that they “requested” it be considered? There is a big difference between the two approaches, and the Balearic government has every right to make such requests, just as Air Berlin has every right to tell them that they will not consider their request.
May I remind you that the main turmoil was started by a spat between Mr. Hunold and the former Catalan politician Mr. Cordon, and not necessarily between Air Berlin and the Balearic government. Just as these two individuals, you are just taking advantage of the incident, as everyone else on both sides of the argument (pro-Catalan and pro-Spain), and using it for your personal agenda. If it weren’t for Mr. Hunold and Mr. Cordon, and all the people jumping in to make political statements, this would have been politely resolved long ago."

Good. Good that someone comes back with a comment. More of it, please. But why oh why was this sent anonymously? I am totally open to people offering different opinions, and this is a subject of no small interest (the language one), so it would be good if it were right out in the open. Moreover, if anonymous could put together a full story on the ins and outs of the background, which I admit had escaped me, that would also be good, and I would be more than happy to post it here. Anyway, because I cannot reply to anonymous commentators, which is why I ask people to email me, I shall use this space to thank anonymous, but I would also like to respond.

One has to go back to the original piece of 14 June. This drew on an item from "The Bulletin" which used the words "misinterpreted" and "inviting" in inverted commas in its article. When I see an inverted comma or two, I sense a euphemism, though this could of course have been a simple translation. But euphemism was how I interpreted it. So I was not implying, I was interpreting. And I think an interpretation of something stronger than a mere invitation was not an unreasonable one. As far as a "personal agenda" is concerned, oh I really don't think so. Frankly, I couldn't personally care less what language Air Berlin uses. The story was taken up because it seemed to represent the current vogue for language issues to poke their way into the public domain and also because it struck me as daft, which regular blog readers will know is a powerful incentive for me to raise a subject. As I said on 14 June, it is an honourable political goal to promote Catalan, but for me the real issue of language policy is not one couched in idealism, romanticism or populism, but in pragmatism and in terms of what constitutes the most effective means for economic and competitive development, a point I referred to yesterday. My language is neither Castilian nor Catalan nor indeed a local variant of Catalan, so it ill behoves me to try and foist a personal opinion onto the discussion except in the capacity of an observer who is removed from the emotion of the issue and sees something of the ludicrous or something that is riven with cant.

Anyway, once more thanks to anonymous.

And I feel that I have to offer myself a rebuke. In the same piece on 18 June, I said the symbol of quality tourism was a Balearic one. I should learn to look at adverts a bit more closely, which I have. It is actually a national thing, which does spoil the gag rather, though maybe the symbol should have been a C and not a Q. Whatever.


QUIZ
Chain - Paul Young was with "Streetband" who did "Toast". And what links Paul Young to Crowded House? Yesterday's title - The Who from "Tommy". Today's title - where's this from?

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Fiddle About

Economic woe follows the British tourist and lands with him at Spain's airports. There may be more sun in Spain, but the clouds of economic hard times are as in evidence as they are in the UK; indeed, more so.

There was a fine article in "The Bulletin" yesterday; fine, that is, if you like your economics reporting coloured by imagery of doom and gloom. "The Spanish economy is in for a ferocious fall." "It's going to suffer more than Europe and take longer to recover." There is nothing necessarily that new in the article, but it does act to emphasise both the sudden decline of one of Europe's golden economies and the structural impediments to turning that economy around on anything more than an ever-deeper lake of debt.

According to the IMF, Spain is the developed country that will be "hardest hit" by the credit crunch. And it's not difficult to understand why. The reliance on construction, as a driver of the economic boom, has turned to a millstone, with construction companies unable to get the credit they had long used and the housing market all but drying up. There are, of course, those who fiddle while the country may not exactly be burning but is at smouldering point, and insist that all will be fine, including President Zapatero, but his predictions for growth are at variance with those of the IMF, which forecasts stagnation. And the problem is more than the fiddle-playing of wishful thinking, it is the fiddle-playing that drowns out the noises calling out for structural improvements that would give the country a truer sense of economic well-being, rather than what it has known - which is one based on low-skill sectors, such as construction, and all that Brussels benevolence. An extra whammy awaits in the pipeline for Sr. Zapatero: further interest rises imposed by the European Central Bank.

To place the current economic malaise in a Mallorcan context, it is difficult not to be even more pessimistic. To return to a previous theme on this blog: the Mallorcan economy is sustained by two main sectors - tourism and construction. The latter is suffering as elsewhere, but the fiddle-players can point to the value of the luxury housing market to cover up deficiencies. The tourist sector will probably enjoy a year as good as 2007, at least in terms of overall numbers, and so the fiddle-players will say all is well. But both sectors are essentially low skill. There is, or has been, a complacency that these sectors can continue to fuel growth, while quelling any impetus to seek ways of shifting to a more diverse and competitive economy based on higher skills and also higher salaries. Recently, there was a call for the local government to set about a new round of construction in order to assist the flagging economy. This is economics of the madhouse. There may well be a need for social and affordable housing and also for further civil construction projects, but where does the money come from? More borrowing. Mallorca is but a part, but Spain overall has the second-largest current account deficit in the world. To seek a remedy in yet more construction would be to compound the economic problem that already exists while simultaneously papering over the cracks of an unbalanced economy. Among other sectors of the local economy, agriculture for example, there is also uncompetitiveness. The island's almond-growers have seen their market attacked by California, hardly a low-cost producer. The key to this has been the use of technology. In the same way that Californian wine producers exploited technology to attack the French wine market, so have their almond-growers. Technology and skills.

One has a sense of unrealism about the local economy, and about much of the country's economy. European development funds have been both an advantage and a disadvantage. They have created the grounds for the economic boom but they have also seem to have acted as a disincentive to establish a more meaningful economic basis - one of skills, competitiveness and productivity. One wonders just how far the island has really progressed. And I come back to that observation (17 April: "Wonderland") about Puerto Pollensa and about kids' futures in a place where they enjoy a laidback, beach upbringing and believe that to be their futures. There has always been the beach, and for the last couple of decades a nice open cheque from Europe has made the beach even more agreeable.

The local government does at least seem to "get it" in that they have a plan, albeit vague, for innovation and development. But then, on the other hand, there's the language issue. Is competitiveness really compatible with a bias towards the local language?

It is hard, at times, to avoid an image of wanting the cake of the playa, the fiestas and the traditions and to eat it too, with the bread and jam of easy credit, whoever supplies it. When I talk about progress, I mean the extent to which society here is fronting up to the nature of the global economy and its role in it. This weekend, many Mallorcans will decamp to Menorca for Sant Joan, and thereafter the summer is one round of fiestas. It has been easy to maintain all this tradition and all this party so long as the credit line is long. But maybe that party is coming to an end.


QUIZ
Chain - "Man On The Moon" to "Moon River" to "Breakfast at Tiffanys", which was the name of the song by Deep Blue Something. And what links breakfast to Paul Young? Yesterday's title - Jack Nicholson. Today's title - where's this from? Had it only recently.

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One Flu (And Flew) Over The Cu-Cu's Nest

Flu. Would you credit it? No sooner does the weather finally get its arse in gear than flu descends. And before any jibes, this is no man flu, this is flu, or has been as it now seems to be lifting. Not that I've done myself any favours. Customer service continued even if it meant going back and forth, back and forth on Monday with boxes of guides for some and handfuls for others. The problem of not being able to park close enough to the centre of Alcúdia old town. Sweat upon sweat and then shiver.

Of course, there's a lot of it around. There always is a lot of it around, or so it seems. Someone says "I've had the flu" and with true predictability someone else replies, "There's a lot of it around". I don't know that it's any worse here than most places, but all the kissing, hugging and handshaking that goes on probably doesn't help. Sometimes it can be like a wild fire. Two or three years ago, around this time of year, there was a virulent dose of gastric flu. I got it, and when I mentioned it, it turned out everyone else had.

So I have taken two or three days out from doing the normal rounds, I've taken to the terrace, but I'm not at the stage of being wheeled out in a bath-chair with a shawl and a mug of hot lemon. Maybe it's the flu though that heightens one's senses or perhaps one's intolerance of certain noises. So I'm sitting on the terrace, and there is this noise coming closer, and then the noise goes right past and disappears up the road. But then it comes again, and again. I've long thought that these various things that the tourists pedal around on were accidents in the making, but I hadn't appreciated the extent to which they create noise pollution. Specifically, it's those kart-like trike things. Not the four-seater things with horses heads, the ones lower to the ground, just like, well, karts, except with no engine. But that noise. As it came and went and then came again, I was trying to think well what does it remind me of? Then it came to me. A knitting-machine. And perhaps reflecting my temporarily infirm status, I thought asthmatic knitting-machine. And that's just what these things do sound like. I wonder if the guys who operate them have ever thought about applying a bit of WD40.


An update on the Air Berlin-Balearic Government Catalan-usage spat. It seems that Valencia and Murcia airports have taken due note and, with due opportunism, have extended the hand of welcome to the airline to switch its hub from Palma. Can't think for one minute that it will happen, but it should serve as a reminder to the Balearic Government not to go around biting off a hand that feeds by making preposterous "invitations" to use one language over another.


And finally, back to Cuatro and its Euro 2008 coverage; well, the ads anyway. There is one for the Balearic symbol of quality tourism. If you don't know what this is, then if you happen to go to somewhere like La Parra in Puerto Pollensa you'll see a "Q" by the entrance. Hotels are also involved. But this ad. It uses the children's utterance of "cu-cu" (cuckoo). Why? Well because the "cu" pronounced with a short "u" here is basically how you say "Q". All fine it would seem, and the letter for "Q" for quality makes sense, doesn't it, unlike the Ç thing. Except it doesn't make sense, if you happen not to speak Catalan, English or German, i.e. you speak Castilian. The Catalan for quality is "qualitat"; the Castilian is "calidad". Moreover, the advert is not in Catalan, it is in Castilian and refers, of course, to calidad. Cu-cu!


QUIZ
Chain - REM's "Man On The Moon" referred to Andy Kaufman who, among other things, was an Elvis impersonator. And how do you get from that song to the American one-hit wonders Deep Blue Something? Yesterday's title - Barack Obama (see this here if you must: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjXyqcx-mYY). Today's title - in its proper form, who starred in the film? Easy stuff.

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Yes We Can

All in all, it is probably as well that England are not in Euro 2008. Ah, our plucky lads, the lumpenproletariat-cum-nouveau riche of galactico footballers, who lump the ball rather than caress and adore it. Against the passing of the Spanish, the verve of the Dutch, the technique of the Croats, humiliation would once again have beckoned. The bars may not be packed with England t-shirts, but those who've gone to watch are spared what was once described by French pundits (while watching the 1990 World Cup in the bars of southern France) as "primitif". Admittedly, 1990 got better than the game against Ireland which gave rise to this description (and the Irish were no less immune to the primitive criticism), but the years pass and the lack of basics that seem to come so naturally to nearly all other football nations survives. Way back in the '50s, they were bemoaning poor technique and control while Puskas and co. exposed the insularity and aloofness of the English game.

Flicking through channels in advance of one Euro 2008 game, I stumbled across another football tournament. The players had fine technique, ball control and all balls played to feet, pace, movement and passing. It was quite mesmerising. They were all of eleven or twelve years old, teams from Spain and Germany playing in a competition in Mallorca. Small they may have been and small also the pitch and goals may have been, but it was not hard to imagine that some might grow to be a Xavi, a Ballack or a Villa. It was like watching Arsenal play, which probably explains why Wenger eschews mostly anything born in Britain. In England, kids still play on full-sized pitches and are exhorted to "get it long" and run around like headless chickens. One of England's brighter talents (brighter in terms of footballing ability that is), the spud-faced Scouse nipper now playing for Man U, is a decapitated fowl and a foul waiting to happen. It occurs to me that you might want to nip along and see the semis and finals of the junior football tournament taking place during Sant Pere: they're on the 26th and 27th at 18:00 at the sports ground. It won't be like watching England play that'll be sure.

On TV, the Euro finals have been grabbed by the Cuatro channel for those who have no desire to fork out for the pleasure. Compared to the wackiness of La Sexta's coverage during the last World Cup, this is dull fare; no Three Tenors, the singing commentators of 2006, for a kick-off, and especially no short-arsed, balding one with a bow-tie who was, by far, the worst offender. Mind you, the threesome that Cuatro drags out look as though they may have recently come off stage having warbled for a cabaret audience. They each have uniforms of black jackets and white shirts with at least two buttons undone and no tie.

Not much time is devoted to analysis during the Cuatro transmissions, in fact virtually none. Nor are there the meaningless pitch-side interviews. "So tell me, Petr, why did you screw up so badly with that cross?" One suspects that they might have found some time for a bit more endless slow-mo of offside decisions if it were not for the need to get the ads all in, the ones the football tiresomely gets in the way of. And one of these is a Cuatro corporate thing that they repeat endlessly. It has a slogan; well, there's a surprise. It's one word. "Podemos". We can. If I were being cynical, I would ask: "we can what"? But I have already coined the We Can line for Can Picafort, admittedly in English. Better get down Santa Margalida town hall quick and get them to accept it and pay me handsomely, except they wouldn't as they haven't got any money.


QUIZ
Chain - REM did a cover of "I Will Survive". And which REM single has a link with Elvis impersonators? Yesterday's title - Mr. Mister, "Broken Wings" (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWyeVfuolT4). Today's title - which politician has this as a song?

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To Fly Again, ... To Live So Free

Sunwing. The simplicity of a name. Taken to the sun by wings. Or an allusion to a freedom in the sun. It's a masterpiece of holiday-ese. Hotels have sought the allure of exotic local names or have been corporatised so that one is not entirely sure. The Iberostars Alcúdia Park and Albufera Park, separated by kilometres, are sometimes transposed. The Vivas Blue and Bahía. Now which one is which, again? The Sols all stand together, yet are distinct; not that the tourist necessarily knows this and so has to enquire: " is it this or is it that?". Others have fallen back on the we're all in it together tag, which may indeed be apposite in the cases of Club Mac and Club Bellevue. The only "club" of purpose is Sea Club, another brand of straightforwardness - a club by the sea.

The hotel name. It's a subject worth a piece or several on its own, but for now, to return to Sunwing. This complex of hotels and apartments is one of Puerto Alcúdia's biggest and most enduring. It has not aspired in the same way as Bellevue has to having its name used to describe an area, even if it is a convenience to explain that such and such is "by Sunwing". It has also not been granted quasi-geographical status as, unlike Bellevue, it has not spawned a Mile equivalent. Sunwing has the best of all worlds. It is close enough to the Mile but not a part of it, it is a pleasant stroll along the beach path to the port, and it is slap bang on the beach.

Yet for all the importance and advantages of Sunwing, go to the various holiday advice sites (the English ones anyway) and you will find no mention. There are no enquiries after the state of the entertainment or the kids' club or the existence or otherwise of Germans. And the reason why not is very simple, like its name. The Brits can't go there. I had thought that one of its hotels, the Princesa, was to go Brit, but this has not turned out to be the case. Sunwing is Baltic, Nordic, Scandinavian, and is likely to remain so.

Sunwing is the concrete embodiment of the Scandinavian Alcúdia holiday; it is indicative of a history of Swedish holiday colonisation of Alcúdia. More so than the Brits or the Germans, it was the Swedes who claimed first land rights. And they have made sure to keep Sunwing for themselves and their Scandinavian brethren.

In a more general sense, Sunwing and its convocation of nations, is part of a diversity of European tribes in Alcúdia that rarely gets mentioned. One might believe that The Mile is the Brit on holiday, but even blocks in Bellevue are for other nationalities, the Scandinavians included. The "British" bar along The Mile is as much a phenomenon of the successful export of British holiday and social culture as it is anything to do with actual ownership; the diversity of the Alcúdia tourist is not mirrored by the presence of ethno-bar-style. Yet it is this very disparate agglomeration of EU and non-EU nations that contributes, in part, to the vitality of Alcúdia. There may not be a mass of Scandinavian bars or even German, French, Czech or Russian ones come to that, but there is a multi-dimensionality to Alcúdia that is not to be found in, say, its neighbour Puerto Pollensa. "Bild" may have unwisely laid guilt by association at the beaches of Puerto Pollensa when it said it was a place for Germans to avoid, but it was right in the sense that Puerto Pollensa is very much the Brit on holiday, to a far greater extent than Alcúdia.

The Scandinavians of Alcúdia should be a protected species. Not only are they well regarded for their willingness to part with hard cash, they are also singularly unaffected by the negative characterisations of other nations, notably the Germans and the British. Scandinavians do not suffer from accusations of arrogance or projectile vomiting. Given the cheapness and availability of alcohol compared to the likes of Malmo, one might have thought the Swedes would be in a state of two-week binged oblivion, but generally they are not. And perhaps there is something in prohibitively high alcohol prices. Take a walk around Sunwing, and after the shock of all that blondness, the thing that strikes is you is that they look so disgustingly healthy.

Sunwing. So important but so unknown - to the British. And something tells me that this is how the Scandinavians intend to keep it.


QUIZ
Chain - "Gloria", Van Morrison; "I Will Survive", Gloria Gaynor. And the connection between the latter song and REM? Very simple. Yesterday's title - Wah (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWr0_zWaVzU). Today's title - where's this pompous lyric from?

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The Story Of The Blues

Another day, another promotional tag. Mallorca is awash with branding, its seas are alive with the sound of slogans. And from the sea comes the latest - "IB-Blau", standing for Illes Balears Blau. One of the advantages of Catalan can be its closer proximity to English - blau is blue, and is also but one change of vowel from the French. IB-Blau is the rallying regatta call of Balearic yacht and boating tourism; into the blue and into, very much, the black of a profit and loss account that seeks ever more buoyant figures to add to the 520 million euros of income that floated in during 2007 on the hulls of seafaring. As "The Bulletin" points out, the Waterworldist wallet is a thing of some lucrativeness - a daily spend of 140 plus euros per day per head. At an average stay of 15 days, that represents a couple of grand of watering and feeding and the rest.

IBATUR, the Balearic Government's tourism promotional wing and they of the "much more than ... " sloganising, are well aware of the treasures that the Waterworldists bring in, but, in good eco-consciously correct fashion, say that the nautical-tourism promotion of the blue Balearic motif will not be supported by anything environmentally detrimental. In other words, there will not be a major development of the marinas save for floating moorings. Much more than nautical tourism, in IBATUR terms, but not much more by way of marinas. The good ship IB-Blau can sail into port with "The Ecology Song" blaring from its tannoy system and with its hold full of nautical-tourism bounty. Yet a regular annual increase of some 14% in terms of income demands more marina space unless the charges rise and are accommodated by that bulging Waterworldist wallet.

Despite the restrictions in terms of further physical moorings, here is a part of the tourism industry that does offer riches. It is the familiar argument of wealth generating more wealth, in the secondary sense to the restaurants and establishments near to the marinas. Which does raise the question of how diffuse that wealth generation is and would be in the whole of somewhere like Puerto Alcúdia. And the same might also be said for the new port terminal which is now under construction and which promises further riches from cruise ships using it as an alternative to Palma. It's good news for the port, in fact potentially very good news, but for all ...?


QUIZ
Chain - Van Morrison did a track called "Whatever Happened to P.J. Proby?", a question many of us will have asked. What's the link between Van the Man and "I Will Survive". Yesterday's title - "Come Fly With Me", Frank Sinatra. Today's title - which Liverpool band did this?

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Where The Air Is Rarefied

A story that has been rumbling here with the sound of an airplane's engines in the background has been that involving the German airline, Air Berlin, and the Balearic Government. This has entailed an apparent "invitation" to the airline to use Catalan as the first business language of the islands. To which one might well ask, what on Earth is a regional government, or indeed any government come to that, doing attempting to dictate language policy to a business, a business - in the case of Air Berlin - which is one of the more important airlines operating into and out of Mallorca. It's a nonsense, or it would be were it not for the "sense" that trails in the jet-stream of this whole story; that of populism.

Public consumption may have tempered the reporting, but behind the scenes one suspects that Air Berlin told the Government to get stuffed or "Sie können mich mal". President Antich is reported (in "The Bulletin") as saying that the airline had "misinterpreted" the "invitation". This smacks of euphemistic spin. But in an act of PR, Air Berlin is going to get together with the Government's lingo directorate. So face saved for the Government whose high-minded and idealistic language policy is as rarefied as the air where they would like to have it used.

Behind so many of the language diktats is the opportunism of populism. The promotion of Catalan is a perfectly honourable political goal, but in seeking to impose its use, current-day politicians are wandering dangerously close to the same pit of linguistic dogma that saw the language proscribed under Franco. And oh that it was as simple as there just being Catalan to be promoted without the complications of Mallorquín and the Balearic language.

For all this though, language is a simple issue for local politicians; simple in that by raising the political profile of language it disguises more important issues. Language is a convenience of Mallorcan politics, and yet the populism that is suggested by attempts to impose Catalan (or its variants) is of questionable popular support, not least among those who have their children's education and futures in mind and among those children themselves.

This populism has now crossed the political divide into the conservative Partido Popular, a party normally associated with the primacy of castellano (Castilian Spanish). The mayor of Calvia, who fancies a pop at the leadership of the PP in the Balearics, seems hell-bent on making the Balearic language the language, especially of education. Why? Language preservation is one thing, but pragmatism is quite another. I may have mentioned this before on this blog, but it bears repetition. Some years ago, I worked on a marketing project with the Amsterdam Stock Exchange. I once asked one of my contacts there why Dutch people spoke such good English. "Because we have to. No one else speaks Dutch." Pragmatism is a trait that has long informed Dutch politics and educational policy.

And so it is that pragmatism, rather than populism, should be the guiding principle of language policy. Personally, I am in favour of the teaching of Catalan (or Mallorquín) and of its promotion generally, but not at the expense of a pragmatic outlook which would allow those local children to have a wider choice of university were they receiving a castellano-biased education. The consequence of a Catalan-angled policy is that university education becomes more limited, largely to Palma, something that merely reinforces an insularity that a university education should seek to eliminate. All education is about broadening the mind, and none more so than higher education.

Last year, the Government made great play of a "plan" for innovation and development in Mallorca. Quite what this is I am unsure, and I'm not wholly sure the Government's sure either. But what I am sure of is that, if there is a desire to create a more diverse economy, one that would function within a global market, then there are two languages that matter - English and Spanish. Catalan is, in a respect, like Dutch. European language it may be, but international it most certainly is not save for the odd small outpost here and there. Spanish may be a less-important international language than English, but important and useful it still is. It is a linguistic advantage that exists within Mallorca's boundaries, and yet some politicians would seek to deny it.

The Government is saying that there is not an intention to make 100% of teaching in Catalan, yet there are some who might try and force the issue. The Government also says that plans to have English used as a third language for teaching have not been effected because of a lack of qualified staff, which is a kind of Catch 22. That lack of staff is partly down to a lack of English teaching in the past; a cycle that is still being repeated. And then there is the inherent contradiction of apparently seeking to internationalise education by introducing English as a teaching language (albeit the commitment to this may just be open to doubt) while at the same time trying to insist that an international airline conducts its business in Catalan. Where is the pragmatism?


QUIZ
Chain - Maggie Bell had a hit with "Hold Me" (together with B.A. Robertson) which had been a hit for P.J. Proby. And what connects P.J. Proby to Van Morrison? Yesterday's title - Belinda Carlisle (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDcC9bnRciQ). Today's title - where's this from?

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Circle In The Sand

Well with something of a soggy and muted fanfare which meant that the launch had to be transferred to the Auditorium, Alcúdia town hall proudly unveiled its new WiFi system for the beach a couple of days ago. Some of you may recall my reporting on this back in March (11 March: "Beach Baby Beach"). It was as well that they hightailed off to the Auditorium, didn't want any rain getting in and gumming up or flooding the works of a laptop or having their parade of keyboards rained on. Which does rather beg the question ... I mean a beach WiFi zone may sound like being at the forefront of technology and all that, but are people seriously going to be taking their computers onto the beach? Any electrical or electronic device on a beach is a wind-blown and Factor-50 recipe for disaster. Equipment may be more robust than it once was, but years ago I soon put paid to a Walkman when sand got inside it. It seems daft. Take a few hundred quid or euros' worth of computer with you, smear it with suntan oil, expose it to direct sunlight, threaten it with sand or spray or turn your back and let some light-fingered opportunist scurry off into the cover of the hotels and trees with your Dell or Toshiba. Perhaps I am wrong; perhaps there are sufficient numbers who wish to conduct their affairs from a beach-towel that they will fill the 500 connections that will be available at any one time (price 17.95 euros for 500 minutes of use). At least the network that has been established on the beach, which includes video surveillance, may be able to spot the chap legging it with the laptop. One advantage of the WiFi system is that it is meant to be very high-speed. Well, I trust that it will be and that it will not be prone to interruption. Local ADSL connections are basically pretty dire. Spain has one of the poorest broadband infrastructures in Europe, as I can testify to when I lose my connection, which is not uncommon. Otherwise we might yet be treated to those with their laptops walking round and round in circles on the sand trying desperately to pick up a signal as though they were looking to tune in a TV set of years ago.


And still on matters Alcúdia, the fiesta season is very nearly upon us. The first biggy of the season starts on 24 June, the week of Sant Pere or San Pedro if you prefer. Finally, the weather looks as though it may just have turned the corner and not be likely to throw up a tsunami or something that would disrupt the boat procession on the main night of the 29th of June. As ever, the town hall have very kindly sent me the programme (in Mallorquín) that I have battled to translate, not without having to email them to ask what certain things mean: there is no such thing as an English-Mallorquín dictionary, at least not one I've ever found. Anyway, duly done it is now going onto the WHAT'S ON BLOG and the fiestas section of the main website. This year sadly, there don't appear to be any former contestants from local "Pop Idol" equivalents, as was the case last year. But, as ever, the main gig will be the night of the 29th with its boats and fireworks. It is well worth attending, so let's just hope that those visitors away from the port area, i.e. in Bellevue or elsewhere, get to know about it. I do my bit, but it remains a largely under-publicised event where the tourist is concerned.


QUIZ
Chain - Jimmy McCulloch was in Wings and also Stone The Crows with whom Maggie Bell made her name. And what's her connection to P.J.Proby? Yesterday's title - Wham (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIzVoNq9f9s). Today's title - who?

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Club Tropicana, Drinks Are Free

Well it has started to bite - the lorry drivers' strike and blockades. At the local Eroski, the problem with tourists not knowing how to weigh their fruit and veg is less of an issue as there is less to weigh. The fresh-meat part of the supermarket was closed. Not good. Apart from local folk, those tourists on a self-catering basis are going to start wishing they'd booked all-inclusive, though quite how well the hotels are catering (or not) I'm not sure.

It seems like bad news, bad news and more bad news. And I'm going to add to it. I'm afraid that the scratch-card problem is really starting to be an issue in Alcúdia (if you're not aware, this is a means of getting people to pay for holiday clubs or time share). The other day, I got an email from a gentleman of nearly 40 years coming-to-Alcúdia experience who was complaining bitterly about the constant hassle and, moreover, the abuse and aggression from those who try and entice folk with the cards. His email to me is basically the same as a letter that appeared yesterday in "The Bulletin".

Look, I have no problem with guys trying to earn some money so long as the deal's legit and they're not giving people a load of grief. But there is a problem if the resort gets itself a bad name; Magaluf has suffered for some years. Alcúdia has certainly not been immune; just now it seems to have cranked up a gear or two, and Puerto Pollensa also is a target. I don't really wish to dwell on whether there is permission or not for this to happen or indeed the nature of the actual offer, but my understanding is that any street selling or promotion has to be licensed. The agreement is that PRs and owners can "tout" for business right outside their own bar or restaurant; this they can do. But to go along the street or beach or wherever, you need a licence. That is one side of it, but the complaint of abuse and aggression is quite another matter.

This is a flavour of the email I had and of the letter to The Bulletin:

"We were shocked and dismayed by the number of street touts who made our lives an absolute misery every time we walked out on the street. We were approached several times on each visit to the Port area. The touts were abusive and aggressive when we tried to avoid them and even shouted at us as we walked across the street trying our best to avoid them. In fact they seemed to take pleasure from upsetting visitors with one of their women members shouting abuse after us at the top of her voice."

I'll say no more.


And today would not be complete without at least a passing reference to the fact that Freddy Shepherd seems to fancy taking over Real Mallorca. What was all that stuff about him and the women of Newcastle? Maybe he finds the babes of Mallorca a more enticing prospect.


QUIZ
Chain - Denny Laine, once of The Moody Blues, was in Wings. And how do you get from Wings to Maggie Bell? Yesterday's title - Weather Report. Today's title - so easy, I shouldn't even be asking.

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Heavy Weather

So I got this call to my mobile. It was Ben, Ben of Piccadilly Ben but no longer as he's Bellevue Ben now. Did I know there was a hurricane on the way, my having the finger on the pulse of all things? Not as such, says I. When? Now, he says. I look to the sky and, in that it can ever be described as sunny here at present, it was doing a fairly good job. Ben had got the word from Sara at the Condes who themselves had been warned by head office to get the sunbeds off the terrace - you don't want them floating down to the beach or being hurled against the back of Bar Bamboo if it turns out to be more of a tornado like last October. And then ... Nothing. Watched Spain thrash Russia with what passes for perfect weather at the moment outside. So I thought, well where is Condes HQ that they can issue such a warning? Does it orbit the Earth on a weather satellite, or is the good Starship Condes boldly predicting weather events that no man has experienced before? I thought that and it seemed like a good line, but it turns out that there was a general alert yesterday with schools being evacuated in the south.

With all the awful weather and last autumn's tornadoes still fresh in the memory, it was fair enough that they took precautions even if it turned out to be a false alarm. Mind you, nothing would surprise now. We can all take a joke, but this is getting to be a nightmare. And this morning, another storm, another deluge. How long can it go on for? Yesterday morning I was down in Puerto Alcúdia's marina among the Waterworldists; they tend to have as good a handle on the weather as most. There were no predictions of immediate extreme weather but there was talk of a 40 days, 40 nights variety. No end in sight.

And the rain and cloud is now becoming the stuff of myth. The word is that holidays are being cancelled because of the weather. People are returning to from wherever they came and spreading the word, and their mates are pulling their reservations. I don't think so. People don't cancel; not unless they want to incur a whacking loss they don't. Last-minute business may well be a different matter.


Meanwhile, down in jolly old Can Picafort, local politicians seem to have been woken at long last from the long sleep of inertia into some action (or talk at any rate) regarding the nature of the beach and frontline. Can Pic has long been little Germany and it has taken a German newspaper, "Bild", to put the wind of fear up the politicos. Reported in today's "Diario" are evaluations made by "Bild" of the Can Pic beach. There is one word that stands out. The Spanish is "pésimo". This can be translated as abominable.

I think that "Bild" is actually overdoing it, but it has drawn attention to things like the seaweed, the predominance of concrete along the promenade, the inattention to gardens, and the lack of shade and children's play areas. It has gone on to recommend that visitors go to Playa de Muro beach instead. "Bild" awards Can Pic beach the second worst score available on its ratings system.

As I say, this is perhaps a bit over the top, but it's not to deny that there are indeed problems with Can Pic, its beach and frontline. For much of the length of the "concrete" promenade that runs along the back of the beach, the sensation is not unlike an English seaside resort. Then there are the numerous restaurants, all with boards offering grilled sardines, breakfasts and coffee and cake. Go inside any of them, and they are like barns, and there is little to distinguish one from the other. As far as the beach itself is concerned, there is the constant problem with the seaweed, but this does get cleared now and then and Can Pic is not the only beach to have to contend with this.

Can Picafort, to be absolutely blunt, is an unremarkable resort. Oh it's pleasant enough, but that concrete description can just as well apply to the whole place. Hotels, hotels and more hotels. I read recently someone describe Can Pic as "picturesque". Each to their own, it's not something that would spring to my mind. Indeed, try as I have to take some good pictures of Can Pic, it's difficult because there really isn't anything much that lends itself to being photographed. Compare it to, say, the port area of Puerto Alcúdia, and the contrast is quite striking. Alcúdia's marina is a thing of some splendour, its promenade wide and attractively landscaped. You cannot say the same about Can Picafort.

To be fair, there is a money issue. Santa Margalida is not as wealthy as Alcúdia, but it should not take a German newspaper to put the frighteners on to make the town hall do something to smarten the place up. One of the politicos is calling for an urgent debate to which various bodies should supply ideas. Why has it taken them so long? One fears the stirrings of a promotional campaign, now that neighbours Muro have decided they need one. I'll give them a slogan: "We Can, Can You?" Suitably vague and useless; I commend it to them. There again, maybe it should be "we can't, but you can try if you want".

The thing is though, when it comes to the promenade, "Bild" is missing something of the point, and that is that because someone decided to eradicate all the dunes and build right up to the beach, in winter the beach encroaches onto the prom, as can the sea. So any attempt at prettifying the frontline has to take into account the force of nature; the force of nature that no one had the foresight to consider when they developed the place.


QUIZ
Chain - Patrick Moraz played with both Yes and The Moody Blues. And go on, what's the really simple link between the Moodies and Paul McCartney? Yesterday's title - "Calling All The Heroes". Today's title - album by which jazz band ? (Clue's in the title.)

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It Bites

No, not a mosquito. The strike of Spanish lorry drivers. Different country, same public reaction. Put a bit of a scare in front of Jose Public and he'll panic like crazy and take his own tanker to the local petrol station and fill up and then strip the supermarket shelves on the way home for good measure. Not that I am aware of any problem here as such, but maybe I should join the crowds and start panicking. There again, no petrol and it would be a good excuse not to do anything. Lounge around all day in the sun. The only problem being ... The other "it bites" is the grim weather.

The lorry drivers want a minimum price for haulage, but President Zapatero's not about to go along with the demand. Quite what also he can do about the soaring rise in diesel costs I've no idea. It's not as if diesel is the only energy product that's been affected; butane gas is up to over 14 euros a bottle, not far off a ten per-cent rise in a couple of months. The costs of energy have increased significantly over the past few months, so when people bang on about prices here being high or having increased, they might spare a thought for the fact that all businesses need to try and recoup those costs, and that includes bars and restaurants. Everyone is affected.

You now start to get the feeling of a conspiracy against the season. The credit crunch was one thing, then the euro-pound lack of kilter, then the weather (and still the weather) and now the energy crisis and the hauliers on strike. You wonder if it can get much worse; perhaps a plague of locusts. A drought on a biblical scale is unlikely though.


And returning to yesterday's piece. It happened again. Same Eroski supermarket, different tourist, different bunch of bananas. Fortunately someone was on hand. Me. I watched the gentleman concerned as he returned to weigh the bananas. Put them on the scale and then looked at the buttons. What he saw was a series of numbers. Which one do you press? You have to know that the numbers are to be found next to the relevant items. I did it for him. And on leaving, I asked the girl at the checkout, from whose queue the gentleman in question had been rebuffed in his initial attempt at payment, why there was no dirty great sign in English (and German) to make it clear that most items of fruit and veg have first to be weighed and that the button corresponding to the number from where the particular fruit or veg has been taken has then to be pressed in order to print the correct label. She quite agreed. So I suggested she brought it up with the management. And you know what? There's a meeting tomorrow and she will. Maybe. But were this dirty great sign to be placed in hopefully a prominent position, the only problem then would be explaining the fact that there are certain items that don't need to be weighed. Confused? You will be.


QUIZ
Chain - Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes of Buggles were, for a while, part of Yes and Horn produced "Owner of a Lonely Heart". And what connection is there between Yes and The Moody Blues? Yesterday's title - The Band (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yfyjhtOTy1s). Today's title - what was their one and only hit?

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The Weight

"Can you tell me where I'll find the freshly-baked bread?"

Personally, I don't expect staff in the main, national supermarkets here to speak English. Were I from Madrid, I wouldn't go into the Hemel Hempstead Tesco and anticipate that the checkout girl would be fluent in Castilian. So Puerto Alcúdia is a tourist place; so what? In a tourist supermarket, it might be different, but the so-subtly red-painted Eroskis are "Spanish" supermarkets in which the staff have a tendency to speak Spanish or Mallorquín and only Spanish or Mallorquín. Consequently, launching into a well-constructed question sentence, as the lady who uttered the above did, is likely to induce a look of nonplus.

There are establishments here who I believe have every right to absolve themselves from any duty to be multi-lingual, and the mainstream supermarkets are one such. But this is not to absolve them totally, or to excuse either their mediocrity or the seemingly perverse inability to prevent inconvenience or embarrassment. Take the business of weighing fruit and veg. Now, you might think that a counter in the middle of the greengrocery section with a balance and some buttons might just suggest to the tourist (usually Brit) shopper that there is a point to the counter. But never underestimate the blindness of that shopper. Rather than sticking up a large sign or two in English and/or German that explains the whole procedure, the only advice is that given in Spanish. As a result, the lengthy checkout queues (and let's also mention the lack of checkout staff) get longer while the non-weighed and therefore non-priced apples or potatoes have to make their way back to the greengrocery department. Often it is the bewildered customer who has to make the journey. The British, especially the British, hate social embarrassment. That is why, on more than occasion, the offending customer has returned from a fruitless return journey minus the bananas. I heard one woman mutter to her child that the machine wasn't working. Of course it was working; she just didn't know how to use it. And she didn't know how to use it because rather than spending time finding out she wanted to get out quick and spare herself any more embarrassment. If they would just put up a sign or two ...


And current weather watch. It has gone beyond the joke stage to one where it is now a bit serious. The fifth weekend in succession that has been washed out. It chucked it down again yesterday. Still, maybe a few enterprising supermarkets have been getting in stocks of umbrellas, but I wouldn't bank on it.


QUIZ
Chain - Geoff Downes who was part of Buggles. And what about the Buggles takes us to Yes and "Owner of a Lonely Heart"? Yesterday's title - Harry Nilsson. Today's title - who did this?

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The Point!

Let us be ever so wary. Or let them be ever so wary. Another town hall is due to undergo a marketing makeover. This time, it's Muro. One thing is for sure, they won't be using a c-cedilla as their focal point. And focal points should be at the heart of their thinking.

Muro town hall, with what seems like a shrug of catch-up, has observed that other town halls, e.g. Alcúdia and Pollensa, have looked to promote themselves and so have said - in effect - well if they are, then perhaps we should as well. Nothing like a bit of proactivity. More's to the point; it's about time. Accordingly, they are establishing a consortium or a foundation or something or other.

I could save them an awful lot of time and effort. I, or anyone in Muro come to that, could predict what this will entail. There will be four main themes: the superb beach, the generally very good hotels, Albufera and the old town of Muro itself. There, done. Throw in a website with a few photos and a link to the current playademuro.net, which is basically a bookings device for the hotels, and job's a good 'un.

But hush my cynicism - for a moment. There is one very good reason for them doing all this, and that is to establish the fact that Playa de Muro is not Alcúdia. The Playa suffers by proximity; it also suffers from the ignorance or disregard of many, including tour operators, who call it Alcúdia. That visitors end up referring to the Playa as Alcúdia is not that surprising if they are told that it is Alcúdia.

The main objective of any Muro marketing should be to establish a separate identity, one that is distinct from Alcúdia. It's not an easy task. Apart from the fact that the Playa is - in effect - an extension of Puerto Alcúdia, the beach resort and the town itself, come to that, lack much in the way of obvious differentiation. The beach is the same beach; the resort, pleasant enough, defies a description of character; the old town is anonymous set against the Romana and night atmosphere of Alcúdia. Unlike Pollensa, separated by several kilometres from its beach resort but with a capability of enticing the Puerto Pollensanists, Muro old town has nothing of the attractions or the culture of a Pollensa. They will doubtless give prominence to the ethnology museum and the unquestionably impressive church but other than these ... er...? Does anyone from Playa de Muro go to Muro? Would anyone from Playa de Muro go to Muro? No and no. It's not as if people go for the market. Which market do they go to? Alcúdia's. Why? It's not even for reasons of proximity if you happen to be in the far-flung parts of the Playa like Alcúdia Pins. It is because of the Alcúdia association; oh, and the bus routes, or the lack of them when it comes to hooking up Muro town with its beach.

Muro town is not as dull as its neighbour Santa Margalida, but nor does it boast any strong reason for going there. Local Muro apologia grants the town antiquity, but this is hardly a case of uniqueness; all the old towns possess this and some form of historical relevance, none more so than Alcúdia. A curiosity of Muro is that its main square, with the church and town hall to opposite sides, is bereft of cafés. What should be a natural focal point for the town has been left stripped of magnetism. Indeed lack of focal point is a Muro characteristic; the Playa has none. Unlike Puerto Alcúdia's promenade or Puerto Pollensa's church square and also promenade, Playa de Muro is a road and a strip of beach - a continuum of non-surprise. No one had the foresight to create a central reference point to the modern invention of Playa de Muro; the reference points of Puertos Alcúdia and Pollensa grew from what already existed in their old fishing villages.

In terms of diversity, Muro does have one very strong card. Albufera. Though inevitably this is assigned by the unknowing to Alcúdia, the boundaries of Albufera lie within Muro (and Sa Pobla). It is something worth bragging about, but overall the municipality fails the test for the current vogue for alternative tourism. Whereas Alcúdia and Pollensa can both claim a golf course, Muro cannot, though the endless saga as to the possible development of one on the Son Bosc finca might yet see it being teed off. An intriguing by-issue of the Muro tourism consortium is that it brings together the town hall and the hotel association, the latter squarely in favour of the golf course, elements at the former dead against it; at each others' throats in the name of eco-credentials on the one hand and Wilson-wielding wonga on the other. Who knows? Maybe their new-found passion for promoting Muro might find them agreeing on something for once.

Golf is one thing, grub is another. The Playa region can brag nothing in the way of a gastronomy trail. There are good enough and long-established restaurants like Boy and Las Delicias, but none that can be classed as haute cuisine. The restaurants in Puerto Alcúdia's Mile may be essentially purveyors of big lumps of meat and a tribute act, but even there are to be found one or two a class above the average Playa establishment.

You come back to the need to create a meaningful identity for Muro. At least one measure has already been taken, that of placing a sign at the Pointed Thing Roundabout which makes it clear that one is actually coming into Playa de Muro. They should do more, like putting a McDonalds type arch over the road by the roundabout with "Welcome to Playa de Muro" in flashing lights. But this would just be window- or rather road-dressing.

This consortium or foundation or whatever they're calling it should be taking a more zero-base approach. They should be asking - what is the point of Muro and Playa de Muro and what is needed in order to promote the municipality effectively? And by needed I mean the product itself as opposed to how the promotion is done. They could start with the lack of focal points, with those unlovely and unwanted "locales" and with the tackiness that is in stark contrast to the opulence of the hotels. They might also ask how can the town of Muro be made more appealing. But they won't. They'll do a website, push out a few more brochures, maybe even pitch up at an international fair or two, probably create some pointless logo, and pat themselves on the backs for having told a few more souls about things we already know - the beach, Albufera and the hotels.

I say that it's about time that they did more in the way of promotion, that they seek to create an identity, and if this is indeed what they do then fine. But, you know, once they've done it all, you will still get people referring to Playa de Muro as Alcúdia and you still won't get people going to Muro town.


QUIZ
Chain - Asia was the group. Carl Palmer of ELP was the association. And so what connects Asia to "Video Killed The Radio Star"? Yesterday's title - Don McLean. Today's title - who did an album, film and play with this title?

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But I Could Have Told You, Vincent

Location-wise, Euro 2008 may have all the tweeness of a "Heidi" novel, the starchy haughtiness and death-by-cake of a Viennese coffee house or the Edelweiss-ing schlock of a Von Trapp family climbing every mountain to escape into Switzerland, but many a European tribe has wisely chosen to give a wide berth to being woken at five in the morning by an Ermintrude clangling her bell outside an Alpine chalet. They have eschewed the über-cleanliness, the cuckoo clock and the waltz in favour of savouring the moment of defeat or perhaps even victory in the altogether less refined surroundings of a Mallorcan bar.

A glance at the list of participating countries finds that a goodly dozen provide succour to the Mallorcan tourism industry. Only the Croats, the Greeks, the Turks and the Romanians fail to register on the tour operators' coach-transfer itineraries, though the Romanians have pitched up in the guise of hordes of itinerant workers or those banned from computer shops.

But amongst the various nations who will be represented in Mallorca during Euro 2008, special word should be reserved for the Poles who, though relative newcomers to the Premier League of the island's tourism, have begun a process of tourism-land annexation of which their neighbours (those of the G-country) would be proud. And moreover, they are colonising not discarded and unwanted parts in the vicinity of The Mile but the genteel place that time forgot, Cala San Vicente. Yes, the Cala is now officially part of Poland, and I know this thanks to my mole all things Cala St. Vince, Tomas from Marinas. Given that he has a bar opposite, I suppose he does have a bit of an angle on the whole deal, but, in the wake of the Don Pedro having been all-inclusivised for some years now and also stubbornly refusing to be demolished, the Simar, also arming the wrists of its clientele with the stigma of the wristband, has been taken over by Poles. Which is not to say that the Poles should not have taken it over, but is to say or rather ask - are they expected to drive their own buses and kit out their own bathrooms? Tempting though it might be to suggest that hotels provide them with flat-packs and some items of porcelain from the local B&Q equivalent and then set them to work, this would of course mean succumbing to stereotyping - as in all Poles drive buses or are plumbers. And that would never do.

Yet having arrived in Cala St. Vince, our Polish friends will not be frequenting that Mallorcan bar to watch and suffer further defeat at the feet of the Germans. They will not because they are all-inclusive. It matters not from where the tourist comes or not that that tourist has barely a euro, a pound or zloty to rub between them, as all-inclusive places no premium on a well-stocked wallet. And talking of feet, if Cala St. Vince had any, it might well be argued that the mini-resort that it is would be dying on them. Here is a place that should be ringfenced with all-exclusivity and not fencing off part of its hotel stock and clientele into all-inclusivity. One might be able to make an argument that justifies all-inclusives in a place as widespread and large (in relative terms) as Puerto Alcúdia, but in St. Vince it cannot make any sense; indeed I would suggest that it borders on the irresponsible. Which is in no way to deny the Polish their place in the Mallorcan sun; just that it would be nice, were there much sun at the moment, for them to be enjoying it by packing the local bars and eateries while supporting the national team.


QUIZ
Chain - King Crimson (Greg Lake), The Nice (Keith Emerson), therefore Emerson Lake and Palmer. And what other "super group (?)" came out of ELP? Yesterday's title - Half Man Half Biscuit (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=na12OyJEgJ8). Today's title - who?

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A Dukla Prague Away Kit

This would not be this blog were it not to preview the impending European Championships. Football is Mallorcan life, well bar-life anyway, and this blog of course reflects all human life in Mallorca and some which isn't.

But then I ask myself, should I rise above all this BBC-desperation who will you support for God's sake we've stumped up a Ronaldo salary to get the rights so we're going to make damn sure those saps tune in malarkey? Of course I should. The real Euro football angle we should be adopting is that it is better to not take part. Ah yes, remember those good old days before the Second World War when England thumbed a nose, a laced leather ball the weight of several house bricks and a baggy pair of shorts that could accommodate much of The Mile's belly fraternity to the rest of the world in the sure knowledge that England, had they deigned to turn up, would have walked it, or perhaps even run off with it. Or even those good old days like the '74 and '78 World Cups and various Euros as well. Let Johnny-Rep foreigner battle it out on the footy pitch while we're lounging on the beaches of Mallorca. You can have your total football or your catenaccio; we could, were we bothered, take the field having bucketed some sangria and had it all done by half-time.

Maybe I should, but I can't. There is something that stirs deep in my football soul that is forever European. Whereas others waited once every four weeks or so by the letter box for the paper boy to deposit the "Football Monthly"-fattened daily blah, my monthly anticipation was for a slimmer work - "World Soccer". I attribute this contra-convention of pre- and early adolescent non-peer group football reading to one event - Hungary versus Czechoslovakia in the '62 World Cup, a game viewed in the graininess of dodgy black and white transmission, a celebration less of central and eastern European Soviet bloc soccer skill and technique but more of the strange-named. Hungary may be the Nottingham Forest of European football - a 15 or 90 minutes of fame in the footballing floodlights and the long ball of mediocrity ever since - but it was they and their curiously-monikered continental team mates that fanned a fandom of pan-European football. Oh my Ujpest Dosza, my Hadjuk Split, my Dukla Prague of youth.

Sad the young of today deprived of the fleeting moments of European football mystery and appellations by the familiarity brought not only by the foreign presence in the domestic game but also by the fact of the bloke fixing the domestic appliance who would, in an earlier era, have been lumping the ball for Gornik Zabrze.

As for this year's championships, I frankly couldn't care less who wins. As I feed from the generosity of its land, then Spain and a Spanish triumph would be satisfying were it not for the fact that, in winning, Spain would cast off its underachieving achievement, one that it has fought long and hard to preserve - just like England. The best thing about Euro 2008 is that Danny Baker is being restored to 6-0-6. Forget your Mellors, your Littlejohns, your Greens; this is football as it should be with one eye on the oddball or even the odd ball.


QUIZ
Chain - Toyah Willcox was in Quadrophenia and is married to Robert Fripp, he of King Crimson. And what links King Crimson and The Nice? Yesterday's title - no not Niall Quinn, it was Keane, "Maps" (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6JEyWrpmxw). Today's title - which group wanted this for Christmas?

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A Long, Long Way From Where I Am Supposed To Be

I like these little tourist stories folk are sending in. Here's another one from Charles:

'Dog walking late yesterday afternoon, a youngish couple in the ubiquitous hire-car (you know the type, no hub caps, blazing headlights complete with two ill-behaved children in the rear). "Hey mate, you English?" "Yes", I replied. "Where are we?" "Well, you are now heading for Formentor and if you wish to continue, carry on to the Cap and on a clear day you'll see Menorca, fantastic and spectacular views," I replied. "Nah" said one of the brats, "that sounds boring." Bending down a bit more to speak to the driver I noticed one of those Sat-Nav things on the window, a compulsory gizmo that seems to be a must-have for every driving tourist nowadays. "Surely that thing shows your whereabouts?" I asked. "Would do mate but the effing battery is dead."

'Now bear in mind that this oaf has pulled up fifty metres or so on the Formentor road from the roundabout by the Port Football Club and has zilch chance of reversing. I too am risking life and limb with a quivering canine lump by my side, as the traffic squeezes past my protruding arse. "Look, the most sensible thing you can do is drive up to the top, pull of the road, and look at your map," I said. Wait for it...

' "Map, what map? Tossed that into the bin a couple of days ago." Bloody hell, this guy is heading back to Can Pic to a hotel he has forgotten the name of and had no recollection of how he got here or where he was heading! Anyway I gave him directions to Alcudia, but he had never heard of that place either!

And the season has started...'


Apart from the rich vein of humour and discussion that can be extracted from the local hire-car industry (and one day I may well), here is enough stuff with which to conduct an entire seminar - indeed a whole semester's worth of seminars - regarding tourist behaviour. But for now, I shall limit myself to two matters of importance - maps and mates.

Firstly to maps. Not only whole rainforests, my friends, but the entire Finnish pulp industry are co-opted to produce local maps. Walk into a hotel lobby and the machete of a rainforest is required to cut through the growth of maps to be encountered. Tour operators have diversified their business - they are now publishers of maps. Everywhere, maps and more maps. So many maps, and so many thrown into the bin. Someone who once worked for a major UK tour operator told me of the job that it was to collect the discarded maps on the transfer coach from the airport.

And yet a map is almost a pre-requisite for the visitor, you might have thought. But maybe they don't teach maps any longer. Maybe that's the reason. "What's this?" "A map." "Dunno about that." When I was at school there were two things you learned in geography - maps and oxbow lakes, the former singularly useful, the latter singularly useless, unless there happens to be an oxbow lake on a map, which in the case of Mallorca there is alas but not one example.

And secondly, mates, as in the use of "mate". Everyone is a mate, so much so that it comes as a surprise, a shock even, when one is not a mate. This morning I was heading towards the Vanity Golf hotel in Puerto Alcúdia. From the beach came a group - males of bellydom and a Kylie or two with baby-buggies. One of the chaps spoke. "Excuse me, sir." Sir!? Sir, sir!? So universal has mate become, that I had quite forgotten about sir. I was hugely impressed. The only time I have been addressed as sir in Mallorca has been by Spaniards; the British never, until today. I shall reciprocate. From now on, I shall only use sir or "my good man", and all bar owners will be referred to as "landlord". Anyway, the gentleman (see, not bad this formal language) enquired as to the location of the nearest bank. You need a map, my good man, I thought, wishing only to send him off in his search for a local finance house replete with a geographical representation of where such an establishment might be found. But I didn't. For next to us was ... a bank.


QUIZ
Chain - Mark Wingett, who played DC Carver in The Bill, was Jimmy's mate in Quadrophenia. And how do you get from Quadrophenia to King Crimson?Yesterday's title - Peter Gabriel, "Games Without Frontiers". (See this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bz-qeJOo7cs). Today's title - who? Think Sunderland FC.

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Hans Plays With Lotte, Lotte Plays With Jane

"The Germans". This was the title of one of the so-few "Fawlty Towers" episodes. It was a title that needed no further explanation. Despite Basil's demands that the war was not to be mentioned, he, of course, succumbed to his own mania and climaxed with the famous silly walk and the finger for a moustache. The Germans. The war or some sense of the war still seems to pervade British attitudes towards the Germans; this and a series of steps that undermined the British claim to superiority, punctuated only too rarely by some British "victory", e.g. 1966. The German post-war economic miracle; German manufacturing and cars; German dominance of a Europe, the Brits were too haughty to join until it was too late; German football (despite 1966 and 5-1 in Munich); and, perhaps most importantly, Germans on holiday. Everywhere the Brit goes, he is reminded of German achievement and has only the sad memory of war with which to fight back.

The convenience of cliché holds that the Germans are arrogant; as if the same could not be said for the British. I once lived among Germans. They are not arrogant; selfish perhaps, rather unaware of things outside themselves, but arrogant? I don't think so. The Germans are also often portrayed as being rude. Again this is a fallacious categorisation; it is largely founded on a more direct style of speech that manifests itself in a general mode of behaviour. But it is not rudeness; no more so than the British can be rude, anyway.

Recently, there was a sort of lifestyle report about the Germans. One of its findings was that Germans are very conformist; going to Mallorca on holiday was one aspect thereof. There is a degree of truth in this. Individualism does not sit easily with Germans. I knew one German chap. Long-haired, he was dubbed the "space cowboy". Yet he worked in a very traditional industry, surrounded by very conformist colleagues. He himself liked to declare that his hair and his style of dress demonstrated his individualism. He clearly was "individual" in that he looked very different, but he still felt the need to state that he was being individual.

Many German males, from a young age, adopt a look of conformity; it can be noticed by the desperate desire to sprout facial hair even when this is of a "fluffy" variety (albeit that there is, according to "Blackadder", no word in German for fluffy). Yet Germans are far from being alone in the desire to conform. God knows, look along The Mile and you will find enough Brit conformity to fit Wembley Stadium; and indeed that would be where many of them might otherwise be found: the close crop, the tattoo, the arms in slightly gorilla or George W. Bush pose and varying degrees of bellydom. Nations and tribes are suffused by conformity; it just differs in its style. Yet the German male shares something in common with his British counterpart - size. It's that bellydom. The German word for big is "gross"; pronounced differently but it has travelled into English with ease, even if the English took the word from the French.

The Brits and the Germans share an awful lot; the English are, after all, basically Germans. But for all there is historical closeness, there is also historical difference and enmity. There is a touch of the I'm not racist but attitude towards the Germans. This translates as oh of course the war was a long time ago and I know some Germans are very nice but. And nowhere is this more in evidence than by the pools or in the hotels or bars of Mallorca.

I am amazed at some comments and questions one reads. People do ask - "what about the Germans?"; they do comment about the Germans at their hotel. Why on Earth are we so obsessed by this? And now we have the ultimate absurdity, that of compensation granted to a British holidaymaker because there were too many Germans and there was too much German language whilst he was in Greece.

"The Sun" and the German paper "Bild" have long engaged in jibes across the Channel. "Bild", responding to the compensation victory, has asked whether German holidaymakers can be recompensed if there are too many Englishmen. Apparently not, and it quotes a representative of one travel firm who says that the best solution is to avoid "well-known English holiday citadels". In Mallorca, it may come as no surprise that Magaluf takes pride of place. But where else does? Yep, sedate, nice, charming old Puerto Pollensa; even a place with a reputation for well-behaved English abroad does not escape the great Germano-British divide. I hope that Pollensa town hall isn't planning on a Ç-based marketing blitz to attract Hans and Helga from Hannover. It would be money ill-spent, now that the German press has branded the resort a no-go area for its citizens.

You know, maybe they should just ban all beach towels.

(N.B. "Bild" references are from "The Times".)


QUIZ
Chain - The "Men Behaving Badly" in-joke was when Tony asked Debs if she'd ever seen "Quadrophenia" with Sting playing the bell-boy. Debs said she hadn't. Leslie Ash starred in "Quadrophenia". And what's Quadrophenia's link with "The Bill"? Yesterday's title - John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John, "Summer Nights". Today's title - where's this from?

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Tell Me More

One of those catching-up days, with feedback on a number of things - cleanliness, tourism strategy and the Pollensa Ç carry-on. Oh, and weather, the least said about, quite honestly, the better. Except they say it will be better from tomorrow, and it may well be, but they've been saying that for at least a fortnight.

Firstly, to cleanliness, and Geoff confirms that a clean bill of health for a toilet is a sure guarantor of repeat patronage. His wife has a scoring system for loo cleanliness, with those receiving "nul point" or not many being relegated from the Bar-Restaurant Premier (though they were probably only Conference level to begin with). Like "Strictly Come Dancing" or ice-skating, there should be panels of tourists trekking to and from toilets with their score cards and holding them aloft post-pan pointing. Here therefore is another thing for bars etc to consider when next putting together their publicity: "We have clean toilets"; "The cleanest loos in ..." Another sure winner like the "we have number ones" of the haircut piece of a while back. Beats "specialists in meat" any day.

Secondly, the whole business about tourism diversification. And here's what John has to say:
"I see from a number of your blog entries that the tourist authorities are getting worried about maintaining visitor numbers to Mallorca. Having visited the island many times and lived there for a period, it is abundantly clear where the problem areas are.
"Just as with the acting fraternity, tourist destinations get type-cast and as you rightly point out, 30 years of mass tourism have left Mallorca with the image of sun, sand and surf. Then, of course, the towns like Arenal and Magaluf and the greasy mile in Alcúdia have added big-belly-boozer to the image. Printing posters that say 'golf and fine dining' aren't going to make much of a dent. Mallorca is not exactly on the gastronomic route in Europe. I believe you made a good point to me once, when you said that they should concentrate on making Mallorca a winter destination as well. This would require putting in suitable weather-proof entertainment. Maybe a small Disney Land somewhere.
"The authorities need to work out their demographics and see which groups make up the main tourist numbers and if they are British and German, which I am certain they will be, then for heaven's sake make the place language friendly. I came across with my tennis racquet but despite all efforts never came close to getting a game. The tennis complex on Crta. Arta (Puerto Alcúdia) is a ghost town. The office is always closed and when I asked some youngsters who were playing there for some information, they said they just slipped in and played a game and then left. No one was ever able to give me any information.
"I can just imagine what these so-called think tanks are like. A bunch of insular pro-Catalan/Mallorquín civil servants trying to coin catchy slogans. I can see all the signage changing to Catalan to add to the confusion that already exists, with different town names depending on which map you have. Mallorca will not easily lose its present image, and indeed does it want to, as this brings in a fair amount of revenue. It needs a dual image, and I believe that if it develops the infrastructure and the marketing promotion needed for a winter destination, this will gradually drag over into the summer season. They should hurry as countries like Croatia and Montenegro are starting to stir."

Well, some of this does rather reinforce some of what I'm been saying. I should point out that the current think tank, that one convened by the British Consul, is, save for the presence perhaps of IBATUR, the tourism promotion unit, not comprised of local civil servants, even if the stamp of local thinking is inked into other aspects of tourism promotion, like the Pollensa Ç. Which brings me to the third piece of feedback.

Seamus wonders if any "bright spark" might have thought about the letter P rather than the Ç, which would have been a suitably fine piece of mis-promotion in the sense that the P is universally known as a symbol for Parking, which, as anyone knows, there is an absence of in Pollensa. "P - Come to Pollensa and Park." He also wonders about the cock as in like the one on the roundabout, but now it's mentioned, I thought the cock was the Pollensa symbol. Did it not used to be? Maybe it still is. Perhaps though there was a rare display of cross-cultural and linguistic understanding in that "cock" may not be the most appropriate word for the British. Apart from the obvious, there is also the expression "a load of cock". Another c-letter, not far removed from ç.

At a rather more official level, the singularly un-Catalan-sounding Cathy Sweeney, speaking for a body behind the Catalan language, says that the adoption of the Ç to promote the Balearic language should not interfere with Pollensa's tourism promotion and also that the letter cannot be registered as a "brand name". Precisely.


QUIZ
Chain - Another film by The Who was "Quadrophenia" in which Sting played the Ace Face. Not so much a chain question, but what is the in-joke about Sting in Quadrophenia in the "Men Behaving Badly" special where Gary takes them to Worthing? Yesterday's title - Camera Obscura. (See this at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JiLh9rkvjac). Today's title - where's this from?

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Keep It Clean

Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Who coined this expression? John Wesley is probably the best bet even if the original is Hebrew. Doesn't really matter. The religious dimension doesn't feature in the running of a bar; well, not normally. But cleanliness does and should.

I recall that some years ago Honda made a point of cleanliness being at the centre of its overall quality management. The company still does make a point of it. Founder Soichiro Honda is quoted as saying that "superior products don't result from an attitude that allows disarray, untidiness and uncleanliness in the work environment". From this obsession with cleanliness comes an "attitude and environment that is productive and efficient, organised and reliable".

(Quotes from an article by Paul V. Arnold, "Case Study: The Honda Way", www.reliableplant.com)

Japanese manufacturing practices may seem a million miles away from the average local bar, but they do offer lessons nevertheless. In addition to an efficient production environment, Honda seeks to create a place of work that people enjoy and therefore makes them more content and more productive. Cleanliness is one aspect of this. The company also wants to let its customers know and see that it operates such a clean working environment. Staff and customers.

This all started to come to mind when I was speaking today with Kevin and Jane at JK's in Puerto Pollensa. This bar does well. I asked what they attribute the bar's success to. There are a number of factors, but one that came shining through, literally I guess, was cleanliness. To be honest, I had never really given this aspect of a bar much attention. I suppose I would if a place was unclean, but as a sort of selling point for a bar I wouldn't have placed it high on the list. But I'm not necessarily like others. I have heard this cleanliness angle elsewhere in respect of bars; cleanliness and uncleanliness. I have heard of people opting not to return to a bar because of a lack of cleanliness. People do rate it as being important.

I was given an example. Couple come in, order a couple of Pepsi's, sit down for a minute or so and then one goes to the loo, comes back, says something approving about the cleanliness and then they order something to eat. Cleanliness is next to Godliness and next to the goodliness of the bar.

All this emphasis on "clean" shouldn't come as a surprise. Look around reviews and you will often find cleanliness or filth being commented on. I know of a restaurant in Puerto Pollensa where a new owner took over this year and spent a tidy sum on rectifying the unedifying state of the loos.

Coming back to JKs, one of the other points they made was that they have a reputation for reliability in a variety of ways. What was it in one of those quotes about Honda? The last word in the second quote - "reliable". And perhaps that should be the last word about bars and their success.


QUIZ
Chain - The Elton-The Who connection was "Pinball Wizard". Elton was in the film of "Tommy" and how do you get from "Tommy" to Sting? Yesterday's title - The Boxtops. (See this at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-z8RCfnWPOo). Today's title - lovely song by an underrated Glasgow indie band.

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The Letter

One of those fine daft little local rumpuses has cropped up in Pollensa. This one has to do with the c-cedilla (Ç).

Some of you may recall my speaking about Pollensa town hall's adoption of Ç as its tourism symbol. You can see it around and about; it's even used to draw attention to the useless www.pollensa.com, the town hall's website that cannot integrate the Ç into the domain address - so much for joined-up marketing thinking. The Ç will, for many an overseas visitor, be more symbolic of France, but it is also Catalan, and Pollença is the Catalan spelling for something that everyone else spells Pollensa. The Ç branding is an exercise in parochial marketing - it is introspective and singular in its affinity to a Catalan-understanding audience (unless you also count the French). Quite what it is meant to "say" about Pollensa (or indeed Pollença) is anyone's guess, other than declaring "we've got a Ç and you haven't", the only problem being that, unfortunately, the Pollensa Ç is not unique among place names in Mallorca, among tourist place names in Mallorca - Santa Ponsa is also cedilla-ised in Catalan. Maybe Alcúdia should brand itself Ú.

Anyway, the rumpus has to do with the confusion that is likely to be caused, so they reckon, by the fact that the Ç has also been adopted as the symbol to promote the Balearic islands' own language. Pollensa town hall wants such confusion to be avoided, and says that the Ç is a registered logo for Pollensa tourism. That it may be the symbol for this tourism, questionable in its sensibleness though it may also be, is not in dispute, though how a letter can be deemed a proprietary logo I'm not entirely sure. It would be a bit like Manchester saying that the letter "M" belongs to the city and to the city alone, whereas we all know that it belongs to James Bond. The alphabet, unlike brand names or branded abbreviations, is public property.

I'm not sure what the French make of all this, even if they know about it. Ç has international linguistic currency as being French. If anyone should be jealously guarding the letter, then it should be the French and their language police. The linguistic purpose of the cedilla is to denote that the sound is sibilant, i.e. a hiss; the local difficulty in Pollensa has all the air, or rather discordant air, of a hissy-fit.


I'm afraid to have to return to the subject of road accidents and to the notorious stretch of road along the coast between Alcúdia and Puerto Pollensa. The other night there was a head-on collision between a taxi and a car being driven by a member of the Guardia Civil who was killed. Two weeks ago there was another loss of life along the same road.

The latest accident took place near to the Club Pollentia resort. Not knowing the exact circumstances of the accident, it would be wrong to speculate as to the cause, but in the immediate area by the Club Pollentia there is a combination of factors that can be, and unfortunately are, disastrous - the bend in the road just before the hotel complex coming from Alcúdia, the turning into the complex itself, speed and lack of lights. Even in daytime it can be dangerous.

Recently, a list of island blackspots was drawn up. I haven't seen the list, but locally the Alcúdia-Puerto Pollensa would be one, together with the Cala San Vicente turning off the Pollensa-Puerto Pollensa road and the frightening junction between the Puerto Alcúdia bypass that goes behind Bellevue and the road between the horse roundabout and close to the main roundabout as one comes into Alcúdia.

In the case of the Alcúdia-Puerto Pollensa road, I'm not sure what can be done. A roundabout to slow traffic might help, but there probably isn't the room. Perhaps it might just be better if the beach were to be reclaimed after all, and the road closed completely (9 May: "Road To Nowhere").


QUIZ
Chain - Nik Kershaw, "I Won't Let The Sun Go Down On Me"; Elton John, "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me". And what is the connection between Elton and The Who? Yesterday's title - ELO. Today's title - who originally made this song famous?

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