There was this thing on Five Live the other day. It was about disappointing or overrated tourist sites. Stonehenge - a few rocks in a field; that was the sort of condemnatory comment. It made me think. What are the overrated tourist sites here? There are some which are not. The Calvari walk in Pollensa, if you can take it, is worth it if only for the view once at the top. Albufera, if you like tranquility and bird and wildlife, is a treat of nature, but one not on your average tourist's list of must-sees. Across the island there are many sites - Palma Cathedral is inspiring as are the mountains of the Tramuntana and the run from Soller to Deia and Valldemossa or the arch over the cove at Sa Calobra. But there are places that are overrated or not as interesting as you might have thought. I feel treacherous in saying it, but the Roman ruins of Pollentia are not something you would rush back to see. As chance would have it, there was a recent piece in the "Diario" about a local tourist site that is not only a schlep to get to but is also likely to inspire the question once you get there - "is that it, then?"
Son Real, the necropolis along the coast going away from Son Bauló in Can Picafort, is a not unimportant historical site. There had been a plan to put a golf course on the finca area of Son Real, but the enviros held sway and the local town hall (Santa Margalida) accepted this with what seemed like somewhat grudging approval. The council's endorsement of the tourist potential of Son Real was underwhelming, or that was how it appeared. One suspects they might have quite liked the golf course. Still it is the Balearic Foundation for Sustainable Development that now has control of Son Real and a centre is due to open before the end of the summer. Fantastic. Perhaps it will be as unremarkable as the centre in Albufera; the nature park is wonderful but the centre is not much to brag about.
The necropolis is but one small part of Son Real, all 395 hectares of it, but it is the best-known feature. Its sheer antiquity, further back in time than Pollentia, should afford it a reverential status, but a few rocks by the sea might be an appropriate if Philistine description. The whole of Son Real may have more than just the necropolis and its "prehistoric funeral sites", but is it really going to attract that much hoped-for different type of tourist? How many visitors have there been to Son Real this year? 4,500. How many visitors have there been to Can Picafort and Son Bauló so far this year? I don't know the answer, but take into account that there are nigh on 50 hotels. Are they all trekking off to Son Real? No, I don't think so either. The tourism councillor reckons that there will be 20,000 visitors a year. I also don't know what he bases this on. Perhaps they will include all those school trips, if Son Real is anything like Albufera.
The preservation of Son Real is admirable. I shall doubtless visit - in winter when there is nothing better to do. The golf course idea was ridiculous, not for the environmental reasons but because, like the mooted course on Son Bosc in Muro is unnecessary, it was not needed. But we return to the delusion of the "different" tourist and therefore to the unreality surrounding Son Real. It's good, it's laudable, it's surely right, and it's not going to make any difference. 20,000 visitors. I wonder how many Marineland get in a week?
On a totally different and totally personal note. One of my neighbours died two days ago. Carina. She was one of the first to inhabit the urbanisation. Her house had taken years to make perfect. Her garden was a thing for sightseers. She had first come to the island with her mother who owned a house in Can Picafort. This was at least 50 years ago. The mother's house is still there, something of a ruin, but still in the family. Carina and her husband, who died in the late '80s, bought the plot in Playa de Muro in the sixties when there were no proper roads, no utilities and plenty of sand and scrub. I have seen the photos, the history of Can Picafort when there was barely anything there, when the likes of the Via Suissa were sand tracks to the almost empty beach. I have seen the photos, the history of Playa de Muro, of her house, of her family. Carina's history equates to the transformation of this part of the island, from the complete lack of development to the current-day luxury of the villas and the hotels.
Two days before the stroke that ultimately led to her death, she had done me a favour and driven me to collect my car from its service. It was a filthy day in May. As I got out of her car, I gave her a little kiss and she smiled almost coyly, almost like a child. Apart from seeing her pass in the car the following day, that was the last time I saw her. She was taken back to Germany, leaving the house that she loved and all that history. And yesterday her boyfriend rang me with the news. It fell to me to be the one to break the news to the neighbourhood. Sad news always brings close communities together, but - as an incomer - you don't always appreciate how close that is. And perhaps some will say that Mallorcans do not always embrace those from outside. Not these Mallorcan neighbours. "Buena persona. Buena amiga." For Carina.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Pet Shop Boys, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wnMiwRj_C7Y. Today's title - a lesser-known song by another of this blog's favourites; named after a French football team.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Let's Make Lots Of Money
On the back of what I was saying about the lamentable state of the property market (21 July) comes further confirmation of the difficulties in this sector. In the "Diario", a spokesperson for the Balearic college of estate agents reckons that the "crisis" will last two more years and observes that sales of older dwellings (as opposed to new builds) have slumped 60% and that there are 5,000 new properties unsold. He also makes the point that, unlike in the rest of Spain, there is a resistance among owners to drop their prices, something that is preventing any form of kick-start to the local market.
Well this latter point comes as very little surprise. Indeed had he said that the prices of unsold properties had actually gone up that would also not have come as a surprise. It is far from uncommon for a property that has been on the market for some time without a buyer to have its price increased. It may not seem to make much sense, but for the Mallorcan it appears to (though one cannot rule out the fact that other nationalities are also holding firm on their prices). Having spoken to many an estate agent over the months and years, one is struck by the degree to which some agents classify the Mallorcan owner as greedy. I'll cite an example - a Mallorcan gentleman touted his property around three different agents, opting in the end for a Mallorcan company; one of the three, British-run, had given a price a half of that which he obtained from the "winning" agency. Perhaps neither valuation was realistic, but when you're talking about the difference of some two and a half million I suppose you might be inclined to go for the higher figure even if it is a nonsense.
This greed thing is something one hears a lot. Anecdotally one learns of it in respect of various dealings, be they rents on bars or the sale of a house. But perhaps there is a whole cultural element that one fails to appreciate. I have looked for clues in "Beloved Majorcans" as to an explanation of the conundrum as to high prices being maintained even during economically hard times. There is nothing specific, but the indifference to time pressures may indicate a willingness to wait, while there is some suggestion that a Mallorcan would rather not sell to someone who seems overly keen. Whatever the truth or the possible cultural dimension, perhaps it just all comes down to wanting to secure as much as possible - and that's no different anywhere.
One Mallorcan who seems to have extracted as much as possible is the owner of Real Mallorca, Vicente Grande. Apparently he's set to get 50 million quid for a 96% stake in the club, a fair bit more than Freddy Shepherd had tabled. The buyer is also British, namely Paul Davidson, known as "The Plumber" because of his pipe-fitting business. According to the BBC's site, Mr Davidson sees this as a chance to promote his business interests in Spain. Maybe it is, but it seems an awful lot and rather tangential to pipes. But who knows. I was going to run this item yesterday as a link with the Patrona piece - leaks and pipes and plumbing and what have you - but it sits just as well with the property angle.
As a corollary to this ... In an interview with the "Diario" Mr. Davidson says that he prefers not to divulge the amount he has offered for the club, except that it is much more than the Shepherd offer. He has ambition for the club - champions and all that - which for a team with a generally unremarkable recent history is probably pushing it. The interview concludes by observing that he talks of the intention to buy (it also refers to the process of due diligence that may take some time), and so asks if he really is the new owner. Unequivocally yes is the answer. The question that was not put is whether this new owner has the financial clout to elevate Real to the level of his stated ambition. Grabbing a club that finished seventh in La Liga for an amount far less than for a similar club in the Premier League is one thing, but the price of success in football is high, be it in Spain or England.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-EKd2n0urs). Today's title - who?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Well this latter point comes as very little surprise. Indeed had he said that the prices of unsold properties had actually gone up that would also not have come as a surprise. It is far from uncommon for a property that has been on the market for some time without a buyer to have its price increased. It may not seem to make much sense, but for the Mallorcan it appears to (though one cannot rule out the fact that other nationalities are also holding firm on their prices). Having spoken to many an estate agent over the months and years, one is struck by the degree to which some agents classify the Mallorcan owner as greedy. I'll cite an example - a Mallorcan gentleman touted his property around three different agents, opting in the end for a Mallorcan company; one of the three, British-run, had given a price a half of that which he obtained from the "winning" agency. Perhaps neither valuation was realistic, but when you're talking about the difference of some two and a half million I suppose you might be inclined to go for the higher figure even if it is a nonsense.
This greed thing is something one hears a lot. Anecdotally one learns of it in respect of various dealings, be they rents on bars or the sale of a house. But perhaps there is a whole cultural element that one fails to appreciate. I have looked for clues in "Beloved Majorcans" as to an explanation of the conundrum as to high prices being maintained even during economically hard times. There is nothing specific, but the indifference to time pressures may indicate a willingness to wait, while there is some suggestion that a Mallorcan would rather not sell to someone who seems overly keen. Whatever the truth or the possible cultural dimension, perhaps it just all comes down to wanting to secure as much as possible - and that's no different anywhere.
One Mallorcan who seems to have extracted as much as possible is the owner of Real Mallorca, Vicente Grande. Apparently he's set to get 50 million quid for a 96% stake in the club, a fair bit more than Freddy Shepherd had tabled. The buyer is also British, namely Paul Davidson, known as "The Plumber" because of his pipe-fitting business. According to the BBC's site, Mr Davidson sees this as a chance to promote his business interests in Spain. Maybe it is, but it seems an awful lot and rather tangential to pipes. But who knows. I was going to run this item yesterday as a link with the Patrona piece - leaks and pipes and plumbing and what have you - but it sits just as well with the property angle.
As a corollary to this ... In an interview with the "Diario" Mr. Davidson says that he prefers not to divulge the amount he has offered for the club, except that it is much more than the Shepherd offer. He has ambition for the club - champions and all that - which for a team with a generally unremarkable recent history is probably pushing it. The interview concludes by observing that he talks of the intention to buy (it also refers to the process of due diligence that may take some time), and so asks if he really is the new owner. Unequivocally yes is the answer. The question that was not put is whether this new owner has the financial clout to elevate Real to the level of his stated ambition. Grabbing a club that finished seventh in La Liga for an amount far less than for a similar club in the Premier League is one thing, but the price of success in football is high, be it in Spain or England.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-EKd2n0urs). Today's title - who?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Dancing In The Streets
I may have mentioned before that I am a history scholar. Historical accuracy, be it fact or re-enactment, is important to me. Certain re-enactments, such as Python's Batley Townswomen's Guild's portrayal of Agincourt, may be very close in terms of historical exactitude but there is perhaps a slight gender issue. Which brings me to the Christians and Moors set-to during the climax to the Patrona fiesta; to this mock battle and to the question of bodily fluids.
Pollensa Town Hall is casting itself in the role of historical party-pooper, and poop is not a long way from the poopering. It has launched a campaign to try and deter all concerned from making a mess of the streets and, in particular, to not use the streets for the purposes of taking a leak. I suppose this all goes back to the absence of public lavs, but there is the re-enactment angle to be taken into account. The Christians and Moors gig does suffer from inaccuracy in certain respects, e.g. the general absence of real Moors and a similar absence of overly much blood being spilled. But, in terms of bodily fluid historical rigidity, I would suggest that a mass relieving is not too far away from what actually happened. I would need to refer to primary sources to establish the fact, though I doubt they make great play of this aspect anyway. One has, therefore, to make a presumption - always a dodgy thing for a historian to do - but I fancy we are on pretty firm or pretty soggy ground in believing that the terror and length of battle may well have induced some bladder slackness. Moreover, I would also hazard the guess that there weren't "comfort breaks" when the protagonists could repair to the local inn, not that the Moors would have gone there anyway.
But we live in health and safety times, such times quite contrary to the hygiene standards of the Middle Ages, and so there have to be some firmly crossed legs or some regular bar pit-stops. History is not what it was.
For all the main events of Patrona, the concerts, the DJs, the giants, the dancing in the streets, oh and the Christians and the Moors, go to the listing on the WHAT'S ON BLOG. Cracking week of events. The dancing queen of the local fiestas.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Eddie Cochran (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vm2Mdma2dXw). Today's title - who originally? And only used as I am unaware of any songs in tribute to on-street leaking. Must be one - anyone?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Pollensa Town Hall is casting itself in the role of historical party-pooper, and poop is not a long way from the poopering. It has launched a campaign to try and deter all concerned from making a mess of the streets and, in particular, to not use the streets for the purposes of taking a leak. I suppose this all goes back to the absence of public lavs, but there is the re-enactment angle to be taken into account. The Christians and Moors gig does suffer from inaccuracy in certain respects, e.g. the general absence of real Moors and a similar absence of overly much blood being spilled. But, in terms of bodily fluid historical rigidity, I would suggest that a mass relieving is not too far away from what actually happened. I would need to refer to primary sources to establish the fact, though I doubt they make great play of this aspect anyway. One has, therefore, to make a presumption - always a dodgy thing for a historian to do - but I fancy we are on pretty firm or pretty soggy ground in believing that the terror and length of battle may well have induced some bladder slackness. Moreover, I would also hazard the guess that there weren't "comfort breaks" when the protagonists could repair to the local inn, not that the Moors would have gone there anyway.
But we live in health and safety times, such times quite contrary to the hygiene standards of the Middle Ages, and so there have to be some firmly crossed legs or some regular bar pit-stops. History is not what it was.
For all the main events of Patrona, the concerts, the DJs, the giants, the dancing in the streets, oh and the Christians and the Moors, go to the listing on the WHAT'S ON BLOG. Cracking week of events. The dancing queen of the local fiestas.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Eddie Cochran (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vm2Mdma2dXw). Today's title - who originally? And only used as I am unaware of any songs in tribute to on-street leaking. Must be one - anyone?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Monday, July 21, 2008
Summertime Blues
First viewing in weeks. An estate agent admitted to me the other day that this was the case. Want to know in how much of a trough the local property market is? Go ask a few estate agents. Don't ask those who deal at the luxury end (even if some of these are feeling the pinch when it comes to British purchasers faced with a poor exchange rate). Talk to those at the middle and low end. All those estate agencies that have closed, and nothing by way of an improvement in the market; it just gets worse it seems. Another agent told me of an apartment for sale in Puerto Alcúdia. Pretty good place, but a seriously overstretched owner who had hoped the summer rentals would suffice in order to pay the hefty mortgage, the sort of mortgage it would be hard to conjure up just at present. You can't even rely on the holiday let to bail you out. The Taylor Woodrow development in Puerto Pollensa, the one from the company with the "We Build in Spain since 1958" line; these apartments would once have all been snapped up off-plan. They haven't been. In Playa de Muro there is a development of detached houses - "in an extraordinary setting, clean beach and natural surroundings make this a veritable 7km paradise within your reach". This comes from the catalogue thing that was shoved under windscreen wipers at the weekend. It follows the appearance of several street posters pointing the potential customer in the direction. It's a building site. They want, sorry need, off-plan sales. The spate of publicity suggests a worry, perhaps more. Sell off-plan and the deposit and the virtual guarantee of a sale will help to secure further lines of credit from the bank. That would be the hope. There is another aspect to the property development uncertainty. It is the inordinately long time that it can take to actually finish the building. Given restrictions on construction work in tourist areas during the season, the time-scale between starting, beginning to sell off-plan, receiving deposits to final completion can be extremely lengthy. It only takes an economic crisis to invade that time-scale for the walls to come tumbling down. And this is what has been happening.
Martinsa-Fadesa, one of Spain's largest property developers, has collapsed. "The Sunday Times" carried this story yesterday, angling it from the point of view of the Brit purchaser who stands to lose a shedload. The paper mentions also an unfinished development on the Costa Blanca. There are probably many more. The problem now is that if a deposit is put down, it may never be recouped and the property may never be built. Martinsa-Fadesa has been hit by the double whammy of too much borrowing and therefore too much debt and a fall of up to 60% in Spanish developer sales.
Picking up on the reference to Spanair on 19 July (the airline is planning the axeing of a third of jobs), there is now also the news - carried by "The Bulletin" over a couple of days - that Ryanair is pulling its Palma service for a period this winter (from 4 November till 19 December). The company cites the cost of fuel and the costs of operating at Palma, this latter point being challenged by AENA, which runs Palma airport. Whatever the situation, Ryanair's decision hardly warms the already chilly winter scene. Winter flights they may be, but at present there ain't no cure for the summertime blues, though at the end of the month Balearics leader Francesc Antich is due to unveil a package of measures to assist the freezing local economy. I'm not sure we should be holding our breath.
Sorry, it's not great news today. I'll try and be more cheery tomorrow.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Beatles, "A Day In The Life" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZez_k4vAzU). Today's title - who? Died at 21.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Martinsa-Fadesa, one of Spain's largest property developers, has collapsed. "The Sunday Times" carried this story yesterday, angling it from the point of view of the Brit purchaser who stands to lose a shedload. The paper mentions also an unfinished development on the Costa Blanca. There are probably many more. The problem now is that if a deposit is put down, it may never be recouped and the property may never be built. Martinsa-Fadesa has been hit by the double whammy of too much borrowing and therefore too much debt and a fall of up to 60% in Spanish developer sales.
Picking up on the reference to Spanair on 19 July (the airline is planning the axeing of a third of jobs), there is now also the news - carried by "The Bulletin" over a couple of days - that Ryanair is pulling its Palma service for a period this winter (from 4 November till 19 December). The company cites the cost of fuel and the costs of operating at Palma, this latter point being challenged by AENA, which runs Palma airport. Whatever the situation, Ryanair's decision hardly warms the already chilly winter scene. Winter flights they may be, but at present there ain't no cure for the summertime blues, though at the end of the month Balearics leader Francesc Antich is due to unveil a package of measures to assist the freezing local economy. I'm not sure we should be holding our breath.
Sorry, it's not great news today. I'll try and be more cheery tomorrow.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Beatles, "A Day In The Life" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZez_k4vAzU). Today's title - who? Died at 21.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Sunday, July 20, 2008
I Read The News Today
What do you read on holiday? Do you read on holiday? The answer is you probably do. Holidays are the defenders of the written word. Remove holidays and books would forever remain unread. But I ask again - what do you read on holiday and perhaps also where do you read? Newspapers on the beach. A total no-no. Too much wind. Turn the sheets and off they fly, joining the lilo bouncing towards France. For me the newspaper was always the treat for après-beach, a cold drink or several on the terrace and the satisfaction of poring over the cricket scorecards. Magazines? Less cumbersome but still prone to flapping around. But which mag? There was an airplane buzzing along the coast line here a couple of days ago, a plastic sheet of advertising trailing behind in the style that used to introduce "World of Sport (with Dickie Davies)". "Bunte - heute neu" (new today). It did the trick in that I went and had a look at what the fuss was. Michael Ballack and some romantic photo ops. I didn't get further than the cover. What is the carbon footprint for flying a plane past Alcúdia and Muro's German sunbathers in promoting a German footballer?
In these days of low tourist spend, newspapers still seem to sell, even at inflated overseas prices. Don't let it be said that people in all-inclusives don't spend money. I was at the all-inclusive flavour of the month, the Continental Park, not so long ago, and a gentleman of bellydom came to reception to purchase a copy of "The Sun" and "The Star". The all-inclusive is the repository of the highbrow. But a brace of red tops will set you back less than one broadsheet that is no longer a broadsheet. "The Times" is a cool 4.25 on a Saturday, the still broad "The Sunday Times" is a whole of your five European euros, and for the Spanish version you only get a decent-sized wood rather than the entire rain forest of the UK edition.
The cheap, local alternative is to cough up a euro for "The Bulletin", but it lacks the sports pages and the gossip of, say, "The Mail" or the red tops. You could go totally cheap and spend nothing, courtesy of freebies. But don't expect them to detain you for longer than a minute. A compromise, at 50 centimos, between the free and "The Bulletin" is the peculiar "Island Buzz" with its absence of buzz.
But newspapers can only eat up so much time by the poolside. The book, or a number of them, is one of the first items on the packing list along with the shorts and mosquito repellent. I have read some of my favourite books ever on holiday - William Trevor's "The Story of Lucy Gault", Ian McEwan's "Enduring Love", Jonathan Meades' "Filthy English", Christopher Priest's "The Glamour", Peter Ackroyd's "Hawksmoor" and Annie Proulx's "Postcards". It's a diverse collection of the gut-wrenchingly sad (Trevor, Meades and Proulx), the master of tension (McEwan), the partly Elizabethan English of Ackroyd and the downright weird (Priest). I am unsure why I am attracted to sadness as a staple for holiday reading, though there have been periods of comedy reading - the Tom Sharpes and the priceless Henry Root letters. I once holidayed with someone who tackled Salman Rushdie. "Midnight's Children" may be revered in some circles, but Rushdie appeared to be more a penance than a holiday, though not as harsh as attempting Joyce or Dostoevsky from the comfort of a sun-lounger. I should know; I've tried them and consigned them to the fall-asleep-in-the-sun file in very quick order.
Whatever or wherever one reads, there is one major issue - not the what or the where, but the how. How does one read? A chair makes the problem easily surmountable, but the towel, the towel on the beach is a serious obstacle. Lying on your back shielding your eyes from the sun - impossible. Lying on your side and that pain in the neck gets ever more painful or the crooked arm supporting the head and neck goes to sleep. Lying on your front and the sweat drips from your forehead on to the page or the sun oil slides into your eyes. Reading on holiday, a good book on holiday is essential, but it ain't easy. Hand me that MP3 player.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Ken Dodd; thankfully I can find no youtube. Today's title - oh, come on, this is too easy.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
In these days of low tourist spend, newspapers still seem to sell, even at inflated overseas prices. Don't let it be said that people in all-inclusives don't spend money. I was at the all-inclusive flavour of the month, the Continental Park, not so long ago, and a gentleman of bellydom came to reception to purchase a copy of "The Sun" and "The Star". The all-inclusive is the repository of the highbrow. But a brace of red tops will set you back less than one broadsheet that is no longer a broadsheet. "The Times" is a cool 4.25 on a Saturday, the still broad "The Sunday Times" is a whole of your five European euros, and for the Spanish version you only get a decent-sized wood rather than the entire rain forest of the UK edition.
The cheap, local alternative is to cough up a euro for "The Bulletin", but it lacks the sports pages and the gossip of, say, "The Mail" or the red tops. You could go totally cheap and spend nothing, courtesy of freebies. But don't expect them to detain you for longer than a minute. A compromise, at 50 centimos, between the free and "The Bulletin" is the peculiar "Island Buzz" with its absence of buzz.
But newspapers can only eat up so much time by the poolside. The book, or a number of them, is one of the first items on the packing list along with the shorts and mosquito repellent. I have read some of my favourite books ever on holiday - William Trevor's "The Story of Lucy Gault", Ian McEwan's "Enduring Love", Jonathan Meades' "Filthy English", Christopher Priest's "The Glamour", Peter Ackroyd's "Hawksmoor" and Annie Proulx's "Postcards". It's a diverse collection of the gut-wrenchingly sad (Trevor, Meades and Proulx), the master of tension (McEwan), the partly Elizabethan English of Ackroyd and the downright weird (Priest). I am unsure why I am attracted to sadness as a staple for holiday reading, though there have been periods of comedy reading - the Tom Sharpes and the priceless Henry Root letters. I once holidayed with someone who tackled Salman Rushdie. "Midnight's Children" may be revered in some circles, but Rushdie appeared to be more a penance than a holiday, though not as harsh as attempting Joyce or Dostoevsky from the comfort of a sun-lounger. I should know; I've tried them and consigned them to the fall-asleep-in-the-sun file in very quick order.
Whatever or wherever one reads, there is one major issue - not the what or the where, but the how. How does one read? A chair makes the problem easily surmountable, but the towel, the towel on the beach is a serious obstacle. Lying on your back shielding your eyes from the sun - impossible. Lying on your side and that pain in the neck gets ever more painful or the crooked arm supporting the head and neck goes to sleep. Lying on your front and the sweat drips from your forehead on to the page or the sun oil slides into your eyes. Reading on holiday, a good book on holiday is essential, but it ain't easy. Hand me that MP3 player.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Ken Dodd; thankfully I can find no youtube. Today's title - oh, come on, this is too easy.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Tears For Souvenirs
A 60 per cent fall in turnover. This is a figure quoted yesterday in the "Diario" in respect of souvenir and jewellery stores. The source of the statistic was a spokesperson for the Partido Popular. One takes the figure at its face value, but, as always, statistics disguise a multitude of alternative stories. 60% is a hell of a decline though. It is true that some of these souvenir places sell a load of tat, so perhaps it's not completely surprising, while jewellery is probably something the purchase of which can be deferred for more plentiful times. However you wish to interpret the fall, it is, nevertheless, a real cause for concern.
The PP cites the problems at Spanair to suggest that the "crisis" is affecting sectors other than property and construction; the spokesperson points also to a fall of 15% turnover for restaurants. The party, in addition, has demanded that the Balearic Government provides data regarding all-inclusives. By implication, the PP is moving to a position of seeing them as the devil of the piece, which is a bit rich given their support in the past.
At some point the current malaise in Mallorca would switch its political attention to the Aunt Sallys, of which the all-inclusives are most obviously one. Maybe that time has come; the all-inclusives have been the target of ire for many businesses for some time but the politicians have preferred to keep their heads in the sands of the still heavily populated beaches. Personally, I see all-inclusives as just one factor, but to deny their impact on local businesses is to deny logic and common sense. One can argue, as I have, that the all-inclusives will cause a market correction in terms of over-supply of bars, souvenir shops etc, but such a market perspective is cold comfort to a bar-owner during a long, hot and slow summer. I have defended all-inclusives from the point of view of the family on a limited budget, and in the current economic climate they have much to commend them in this regard. But the outside-hotel spend is seriously restricted; of course it is. Just by how much might be gauged from an exchange I found on a forum. Someone, staying AI, was asking about spending money. 500 pounds for a fortnight was enough, it was reckoned. That's 500 pounds for a family of five! Everyone deserves a holiday, and the cheaper it is the better. But there is a point at which goodwill subsides. Why, some businesses may ask, should my island and my resort be the ones that are exploited by the cheap option of an all-inclusive while my business is by-passed by brigades branded by wristband? There are those who holiday at all-inclusives who, aware of their impact, bridle at the suggestion that they do not spend outside the hotel. But whatever spend they do make cannot and does not compensate for the overall loss.
The PP is right to ask for clear numbers. No one really knows. In the case of Alcúdia, there are certain hotels where the numbers are clear - the Macs, Lagomonte, that part of Bellevue that is AI - but there are others where it is not. I would hazard a guess that some 40% of Alcúdia's stock of hotel places are AI. In Can Picafort I dread to think. One supposes that they don't wish to make public the true figures for fear of the outcry. The AI takeover has been almost by stealth. In my part of Playa de Muro, the wristbands on the people on the beach tell it all; I don't remember seeing them with such regularity even a couple of years ago.
In times of crisis there is a search for a scapegoat. A political call for a restriction or more on all-inclusives would curry massive favour. It would probably be futile. There are doubtless mechanisms that could be deployed that could effect a restriction or ban, but there is always European law and restraint of trade clauses to say no, and the Spanish government is currently in the European naughty chair because of its flagrant breach of law in the case of the blocking of a foreign takeover of the energy company Endesa. Perhaps more importantly there is the clout of the tour operators. Some hotel chains, such as Iberostar, may well offer AI as an option, but it has been the tour operators, responding to consumer "demand", that have been the main instigators of all-inclusives; the very tour operators that have helped to create much of Mallorca's wealth. Antagonise them at your peril. With the tour operators it is a case of "ah made thee and ah can break thee".
A point once made to me was that the politicians were only too happy to see a growth in all-inclusives if this meant that the numbers coming into Palma airport were at healthy levels. The investment in the further development of the airport had to be justified in terms of traffic, and the press regularly publish figures as to that traffic. Similar levels as the previous year or an increase, and these indicate that the airport is doing well and that tourism is also doing well. It's camouflage. Economic conditions across Europe, combined with the market distortion created by all-inclusives, have finally caught up with Mallorca. Politicians and other authorities rarely plan for or contemplate bad-case scenarios. But now they have one, perhaps some are jumping ship and condemning practices that have added to the current problems. An apocalyptic vision for the island is overdoing it, but the day may yet arrive when the only souvenirs being taken back through the airport are replica wristbands.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Steely Dan, "Parker's Band" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnwRpIqBLaU). Today's title - who? Comedian-cum-crooner.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
The PP cites the problems at Spanair to suggest that the "crisis" is affecting sectors other than property and construction; the spokesperson points also to a fall of 15% turnover for restaurants. The party, in addition, has demanded that the Balearic Government provides data regarding all-inclusives. By implication, the PP is moving to a position of seeing them as the devil of the piece, which is a bit rich given their support in the past.
At some point the current malaise in Mallorca would switch its political attention to the Aunt Sallys, of which the all-inclusives are most obviously one. Maybe that time has come; the all-inclusives have been the target of ire for many businesses for some time but the politicians have preferred to keep their heads in the sands of the still heavily populated beaches. Personally, I see all-inclusives as just one factor, but to deny their impact on local businesses is to deny logic and common sense. One can argue, as I have, that the all-inclusives will cause a market correction in terms of over-supply of bars, souvenir shops etc, but such a market perspective is cold comfort to a bar-owner during a long, hot and slow summer. I have defended all-inclusives from the point of view of the family on a limited budget, and in the current economic climate they have much to commend them in this regard. But the outside-hotel spend is seriously restricted; of course it is. Just by how much might be gauged from an exchange I found on a forum. Someone, staying AI, was asking about spending money. 500 pounds for a fortnight was enough, it was reckoned. That's 500 pounds for a family of five! Everyone deserves a holiday, and the cheaper it is the better. But there is a point at which goodwill subsides. Why, some businesses may ask, should my island and my resort be the ones that are exploited by the cheap option of an all-inclusive while my business is by-passed by brigades branded by wristband? There are those who holiday at all-inclusives who, aware of their impact, bridle at the suggestion that they do not spend outside the hotel. But whatever spend they do make cannot and does not compensate for the overall loss.
The PP is right to ask for clear numbers. No one really knows. In the case of Alcúdia, there are certain hotels where the numbers are clear - the Macs, Lagomonte, that part of Bellevue that is AI - but there are others where it is not. I would hazard a guess that some 40% of Alcúdia's stock of hotel places are AI. In Can Picafort I dread to think. One supposes that they don't wish to make public the true figures for fear of the outcry. The AI takeover has been almost by stealth. In my part of Playa de Muro, the wristbands on the people on the beach tell it all; I don't remember seeing them with such regularity even a couple of years ago.
In times of crisis there is a search for a scapegoat. A political call for a restriction or more on all-inclusives would curry massive favour. It would probably be futile. There are doubtless mechanisms that could be deployed that could effect a restriction or ban, but there is always European law and restraint of trade clauses to say no, and the Spanish government is currently in the European naughty chair because of its flagrant breach of law in the case of the blocking of a foreign takeover of the energy company Endesa. Perhaps more importantly there is the clout of the tour operators. Some hotel chains, such as Iberostar, may well offer AI as an option, but it has been the tour operators, responding to consumer "demand", that have been the main instigators of all-inclusives; the very tour operators that have helped to create much of Mallorca's wealth. Antagonise them at your peril. With the tour operators it is a case of "ah made thee and ah can break thee".
A point once made to me was that the politicians were only too happy to see a growth in all-inclusives if this meant that the numbers coming into Palma airport were at healthy levels. The investment in the further development of the airport had to be justified in terms of traffic, and the press regularly publish figures as to that traffic. Similar levels as the previous year or an increase, and these indicate that the airport is doing well and that tourism is also doing well. It's camouflage. Economic conditions across Europe, combined with the market distortion created by all-inclusives, have finally caught up with Mallorca. Politicians and other authorities rarely plan for or contemplate bad-case scenarios. But now they have one, perhaps some are jumping ship and condemning practices that have added to the current problems. An apocalyptic vision for the island is overdoing it, but the day may yet arrive when the only souvenirs being taken back through the airport are replica wristbands.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Steely Dan, "Parker's Band" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnwRpIqBLaU). Today's title - who? Comedian-cum-crooner.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Friday, July 18, 2008
A Smooth Style Of Syncopation
All that jazz. Lurking among the fiestas of summer is a wholly different series of events - the Sa Pobla Jazz festival, sorry the Sa Pobla International Jazz festival; the word "international" is important. Festival is perhaps a bit misleading. It implies a continuous weekend or some such, a la Glastonbury for example; Sa Pobla in fact offers a series of events during August, four main concerts plus workshops and film. But be this as it may.
This will be the fourteenth Sa Pobla festival. And it does attract some heavyweight acts. This year, John Zorn starts the series of concerts on 6 August. Past festivals have seen the likes of Billy Cobham coming to the potato town. For a place with little obvious tourism appeal, Sa Pobla has, by dint of a bit of thought, carved out a place in the summer schedule that bolsters its own local economy, granting its bars and restaurants a piece of summer action that would otherwise have been denied to them.
To link back to what I have been saying about promotion, one has to admire the efforts of Sa Pobla town hall. Go to the town hall's website (http://www.ajsapobla.net/) and the Mallorca Jazz Sa Pobla logo is clearly identified. Click on it and a PDF pops up. A PDF, moreover, that has information in English. It is an international event, and the town hall has internationalised its promotion. Hats off.
The "international" motif is significant. Mallorca does not do international, or only rarely. When it does, as with the golf classic in October, the government steps in and seeks to remove its support. International can be a misnomer. Try this one - as part of Alcúdia's Sant Jaume celebrations there is an evening of "international" folk dance and music (today as it happens). The international element is a group from Catalonia. National international, if you will.
The fiestas and traditions of Mallorca are essentially introspective. It is as though, as a response to the internationalisation of the island through tourism and immigration, there has been a retrenchment or at least a maintenance of those traditions as a buffer against the outside. In one sense, this is understandable and laudable; these are, after all, the island's traditions. However, there is also a sense in which the tradition is used as a form of mass psychology. It was once put to me that the Germans, who have their local events of a similar nature to Mallorca as well as their madcap traditions like Carnival, fell back on those traditions as a response to the shock of Nazism and the castigation of a nation for having failed to prevent it. The comparison is far-fetched admittedly, but there is something of a hankering for the past in Mallorca that is the response to the shock of the new of the past 40 years or so of tourism.
Accordingly, the fiestas and the rest, while having an appeal for the tourist because of their very traditional nature, have failed nevertheless to embrace an internationalisation that might broaden that appeal. I'll give you an example, and one that has taken the message on board - Palma's San Sebastian celebrations in January. The organisers have admitted that more needs to be done to promote San Sebastian internationally; it is the case that, with some of the acts that perform during San Sebastian, it has an international basis. One of the problems with the attempt to market Mallorca and its cultural traditions is that these do not necessarily resonate with an international market. Spread the veneer of internationalisation on top of the tradition and you have something of wider interest. The Pollensa Music Festival is an example, akin to the Sa Pobla Jazz, albeit an artificial cultural device of only nearly 50 years history.
One can of course argue that traditions should be left to themselves - as traditions - and that commercialism should play little part. But in the case of San Sebastian there has been a recognition that this part is far more important than it might once have been; this and the international aspect. It is for the latter reason, and the resultant commercial benefit that might be derived, that Sa Pobla Jazz is important.
And following-up on yesterday. I am grateful for the comments about the tourism foot patrol notion, one of these comments being left as a comment appended to yesterday's piece by "allanglens" who points out that something along these lines has been tried in Glasgow. Might I just say that I cannot respond personally to comments that are attached to the entries, this being one of the reasons why I prefer that they are sent to me by email. But thank you anyway.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Go-Betweens (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XDmasbARtE). Today's title - bit obscure admittedly but it is a line from a song by a huge American band of (mainly) the '70s which had a strong jazz influence and have appeared here before now.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
This will be the fourteenth Sa Pobla festival. And it does attract some heavyweight acts. This year, John Zorn starts the series of concerts on 6 August. Past festivals have seen the likes of Billy Cobham coming to the potato town. For a place with little obvious tourism appeal, Sa Pobla has, by dint of a bit of thought, carved out a place in the summer schedule that bolsters its own local economy, granting its bars and restaurants a piece of summer action that would otherwise have been denied to them.
To link back to what I have been saying about promotion, one has to admire the efforts of Sa Pobla town hall. Go to the town hall's website (http://www.ajsapobla.net/) and the Mallorca Jazz Sa Pobla logo is clearly identified. Click on it and a PDF pops up. A PDF, moreover, that has information in English. It is an international event, and the town hall has internationalised its promotion. Hats off.
The "international" motif is significant. Mallorca does not do international, or only rarely. When it does, as with the golf classic in October, the government steps in and seeks to remove its support. International can be a misnomer. Try this one - as part of Alcúdia's Sant Jaume celebrations there is an evening of "international" folk dance and music (today as it happens). The international element is a group from Catalonia. National international, if you will.
The fiestas and traditions of Mallorca are essentially introspective. It is as though, as a response to the internationalisation of the island through tourism and immigration, there has been a retrenchment or at least a maintenance of those traditions as a buffer against the outside. In one sense, this is understandable and laudable; these are, after all, the island's traditions. However, there is also a sense in which the tradition is used as a form of mass psychology. It was once put to me that the Germans, who have their local events of a similar nature to Mallorca as well as their madcap traditions like Carnival, fell back on those traditions as a response to the shock of Nazism and the castigation of a nation for having failed to prevent it. The comparison is far-fetched admittedly, but there is something of a hankering for the past in Mallorca that is the response to the shock of the new of the past 40 years or so of tourism.
Accordingly, the fiestas and the rest, while having an appeal for the tourist because of their very traditional nature, have failed nevertheless to embrace an internationalisation that might broaden that appeal. I'll give you an example, and one that has taken the message on board - Palma's San Sebastian celebrations in January. The organisers have admitted that more needs to be done to promote San Sebastian internationally; it is the case that, with some of the acts that perform during San Sebastian, it has an international basis. One of the problems with the attempt to market Mallorca and its cultural traditions is that these do not necessarily resonate with an international market. Spread the veneer of internationalisation on top of the tradition and you have something of wider interest. The Pollensa Music Festival is an example, akin to the Sa Pobla Jazz, albeit an artificial cultural device of only nearly 50 years history.
One can of course argue that traditions should be left to themselves - as traditions - and that commercialism should play little part. But in the case of San Sebastian there has been a recognition that this part is far more important than it might once have been; this and the international aspect. It is for the latter reason, and the resultant commercial benefit that might be derived, that Sa Pobla Jazz is important.
And following-up on yesterday. I am grateful for the comments about the tourism foot patrol notion, one of these comments being left as a comment appended to yesterday's piece by "allanglens" who points out that something along these lines has been tried in Glasgow. Might I just say that I cannot respond personally to comments that are attached to the entries, this being one of the reasons why I prefer that they are sent to me by email. But thank you anyway.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Go-Betweens (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XDmasbARtE). Today's title - bit obscure admittedly but it is a line from a song by a huge American band of (mainly) the '70s which had a strong jazz influence and have appeared here before now.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Streets Of Your Town
As promised, more on the tourist offices being out of touch. Perhaps I should define what I mean here. By out of touch, the tourism people don't know what the tourist really experiences or thinks. It's not altogether surprising. The main contacts between the tourist and the tourism department take place in the tourist office, a place of information gathering by the tourist rather than one of investigation or information probing by the tourist authorities. Apart from this, there is no real contact. Well as though some of the people in the tourist offices may speak different languages, these offices are not necessarily conducive to some lengthy discussion regarding what the tourist really thinks about a place or what he is concerned about. In Puerto Pollensa, I have seen a questionnaire knocking around, but how much this is acted upon I don't know. Surveys can often act as cosmetic exercises.
But to come to Alcúdia. I have spoken with the town hall, in the form of the tourism department, about things like the scratch-card operations, about the state of the bridges and canals and about drugs. Let's take the latter. It came as something of a surprise that the lucky-lucky men are a front-line conduit for the sale of Class-A and other drugs. Yet, anyone who knows, knows that drugs are available from them, and have been for the last ten years; perhaps longer. Puerto Pollensa is not much different. The tourist officials do not know what goes on on the streets of their towns; well in Alcúdia anyway. Moreover, there is no monitoring system of what is said, for instance about Alcúdia. That letter to "The Bulletin" about the scratch-card operations. How did the town hall get to know about it? How do you think?
There is a mass of information about what tourists think about a place, be it Alcúdia, Pollensa, wherever. A mass of it on the internet, and yet there is no systematic observation of this by the tourist offices. Partly perhaps it's a language issue, but only partly. They can find native speakers easily enough if they have the will. You may ask, well why should they go looking for this information. For one very good reason. That is their business - tourists. To overlook the information diminishes the public relations aspect of their work. Commercial businesses some years ago established complaints management systems; complaints are one of the best sources of finding out what a consumer really thinks. And acting upon them is one of the best ways of creating good PR. Even without a formal complaints (or praise) management system, the tourist offices should be delving into all those forums and sites in which people discuss anything from mosquitoes to hotels to scratch cards to the price of a beer. This all matters, or it should do.
One fancies that the town halls might be a bit taken aback were they to see what is said about their resorts; they would also be pleased by much of it as well. But the ease with which people can post pretty much what they like about a resort should be something for which there is, at least, a monitoring capability. Most review sites are remote; they don't have a particular interest in any resort in whatever country. They exist for sounding-off and compliment in not necessarily equal measure. And so much information, much of it mis-information, flies around the internet unchallenged and unknown to the tourist authorities. One almost wonders if they haven't deferred to the websites, but only when there is local representation, such as with myself or with Martin at the estimable puertopollensa.com, might they get some on-the-ground feedback.
There is a distance between the town and the resort and the tourist. The hotel often takes the surrogate role of the town, and for this reason the hotel has a responsibility to the town in which it is located; it is the resort's representative, or it should be. But more often than not, it is not. The hotel is a business, first and foremost; its local community responsibility, and it's the same for the tour operators, may not be the first thing on its agenda, if at all.
I have a suggestion. In Alcúdia, they are willing to spend money on what are little more than prestige services - the beach WiFi zone is one. Useful it may be, but there are different ways in which the tourist can be served. Different cost category granted but cost nonetheless; take some of this money that goes on the prestigious and some of the money that is wasted on things like the Can Ramis debacle, and create an on-street tourism patrol. On foot, not on scooters. Walking. Teams of two, clearly identifiable, along the Mile, around the port, on the beach. Tourism help and assistance teams. Preferably, these teams would be people who know ... know what is going on. Not police but with easy communications to the police. Not there to shop people or bars or those whose sound limiters might be a bit wonky, but to assist the tourist and be the visible sign of the resort - on the streets. In part, this idea comes from my own experience with those who see the t-shirt (for the website) and stop and ask.
Public relations, close contact to the tourist and therefore to the consumer, for that is what the tourist is - he is a consumer of the resort. He deserves more.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - By hook or by crook; it was "The Prisoner". Today's title - one of this blog's favourites; Australian from the late '80s.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
But to come to Alcúdia. I have spoken with the town hall, in the form of the tourism department, about things like the scratch-card operations, about the state of the bridges and canals and about drugs. Let's take the latter. It came as something of a surprise that the lucky-lucky men are a front-line conduit for the sale of Class-A and other drugs. Yet, anyone who knows, knows that drugs are available from them, and have been for the last ten years; perhaps longer. Puerto Pollensa is not much different. The tourist officials do not know what goes on on the streets of their towns; well in Alcúdia anyway. Moreover, there is no monitoring system of what is said, for instance about Alcúdia. That letter to "The Bulletin" about the scratch-card operations. How did the town hall get to know about it? How do you think?
There is a mass of information about what tourists think about a place, be it Alcúdia, Pollensa, wherever. A mass of it on the internet, and yet there is no systematic observation of this by the tourist offices. Partly perhaps it's a language issue, but only partly. They can find native speakers easily enough if they have the will. You may ask, well why should they go looking for this information. For one very good reason. That is their business - tourists. To overlook the information diminishes the public relations aspect of their work. Commercial businesses some years ago established complaints management systems; complaints are one of the best sources of finding out what a consumer really thinks. And acting upon them is one of the best ways of creating good PR. Even without a formal complaints (or praise) management system, the tourist offices should be delving into all those forums and sites in which people discuss anything from mosquitoes to hotels to scratch cards to the price of a beer. This all matters, or it should do.
One fancies that the town halls might be a bit taken aback were they to see what is said about their resorts; they would also be pleased by much of it as well. But the ease with which people can post pretty much what they like about a resort should be something for which there is, at least, a monitoring capability. Most review sites are remote; they don't have a particular interest in any resort in whatever country. They exist for sounding-off and compliment in not necessarily equal measure. And so much information, much of it mis-information, flies around the internet unchallenged and unknown to the tourist authorities. One almost wonders if they haven't deferred to the websites, but only when there is local representation, such as with myself or with Martin at the estimable puertopollensa.com, might they get some on-the-ground feedback.
There is a distance between the town and the resort and the tourist. The hotel often takes the surrogate role of the town, and for this reason the hotel has a responsibility to the town in which it is located; it is the resort's representative, or it should be. But more often than not, it is not. The hotel is a business, first and foremost; its local community responsibility, and it's the same for the tour operators, may not be the first thing on its agenda, if at all.
I have a suggestion. In Alcúdia, they are willing to spend money on what are little more than prestige services - the beach WiFi zone is one. Useful it may be, but there are different ways in which the tourist can be served. Different cost category granted but cost nonetheless; take some of this money that goes on the prestigious and some of the money that is wasted on things like the Can Ramis debacle, and create an on-street tourism patrol. On foot, not on scooters. Walking. Teams of two, clearly identifiable, along the Mile, around the port, on the beach. Tourism help and assistance teams. Preferably, these teams would be people who know ... know what is going on. Not police but with easy communications to the police. Not there to shop people or bars or those whose sound limiters might be a bit wonky, but to assist the tourist and be the visible sign of the resort - on the streets. In part, this idea comes from my own experience with those who see the t-shirt (for the website) and stop and ask.
Public relations, close contact to the tourist and therefore to the consumer, for that is what the tourist is - he is a consumer of the resort. He deserves more.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - By hook or by crook; it was "The Prisoner". Today's title - one of this blog's favourites; Australian from the late '80s.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
We Want Information. Well You Won't Get It
The fiesta season has got out its finest party frock and will celebrate day and night, week in week out into August. Puerto Pollensa started yesterday and overlaps with Alcúdia's Sant Jaume, which gives way to Pollensa's Patrona and this, in turn hands the baton or perhaps the torch of the fire-run to Can Picafort (and Can Pic's fire-run is quite something). It is party, party for the next few weeks, but how much does the average visitor know about all this? Puerto Pollensa and especially Can Picafort benefit from fiestas taking place right slap bang in the centre of town; even without information they are hard to ignore. In Can Pic, you can't move without finding yourself in front of a hotel; two or three in some cases. Fiesta comes to the tourist in Can Pic, not the other way round. Then there are the fiestas in the old towns. Pollensa, one fancies, does quite well in attracting the tourist, partly because Patrona is well-known and partly because of all those villa dwellers who are the sort who might like a bit of local culture more than your regular pool-and-lager brigade. Alcudia, that's a rather different matter.
I have spoken before about information provision for fiestas and fairs, about the money that is lavished on some of the publicity and about the fact that this money and publicity is ill-directed when it comes to the tourist. Take Puerto Pollensa's Verge del Carme week. There is a beautifully produced brochure, 24 pages of thick card, artistically designed and packaged. And not a word of Spanish, German or English. It is vanity and parochial publicity at its worst. Why on Earth do they go to this expense? Pollensa town hall is heavily in debt, so it goes and spends an arm and a leg on some publication that is all but useless for the visitor. Don't let us fall into the trap of saying, ah but this is a fiesta for the local people and so it is right that the material is in their language. There is a sense in which the tourist is discriminated against and denied participation, and this at a time when Mallorca, and therefore its resorts and towns, is seeking to diversify into areas such as cultural tourism. Pay the tourist the right respect, and maybe he will repay this through those sought-after alternative forms of tourism.
They don't need to spend this money on such brochures though. Let's face it, a couple of sheets of photocopied A4 would be quite sufficient; they're promoting events not the creative ability of a graphic designer. Moreover, there is the internet, albeit that Pollensa town hall's website is that useless it falls to the likes of myself to put the information into cyberspace in English.
One of the problems is that the tourist departments in the town halls are out of touch. I accept that it is not they who necessarily are involved in generating the promotional material, but it is they who are in the front-line of communicating with the visitor, supposedly. And don't just take my word for the fact that they are out of touch. I had a conversation with the Alcúdia tourism people the other day, and it was admitted as such. Which brings me, or will, to a whole other area of discussion. And this will be for tomorrow, unless something else gets in the way. Have a nice fiesta.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Wild Man Fischer. And here, if you can stand it, is the "song" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHqR1Rql5r8). For those of you unfamiliar with Larry Fischer, here is also a short docu thing on him - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OnHHk9z8iGE. Following the runaway success of Dimple Diamond's "Runaway Train", here is the latest of this blog's strangely big in Mallorca campaigns. Ladies and gentlemen, Wild Man Fischer. Today's title - not a song but a TV programme. Very famous exchange. Where's it from?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
I have spoken before about information provision for fiestas and fairs, about the money that is lavished on some of the publicity and about the fact that this money and publicity is ill-directed when it comes to the tourist. Take Puerto Pollensa's Verge del Carme week. There is a beautifully produced brochure, 24 pages of thick card, artistically designed and packaged. And not a word of Spanish, German or English. It is vanity and parochial publicity at its worst. Why on Earth do they go to this expense? Pollensa town hall is heavily in debt, so it goes and spends an arm and a leg on some publication that is all but useless for the visitor. Don't let us fall into the trap of saying, ah but this is a fiesta for the local people and so it is right that the material is in their language. There is a sense in which the tourist is discriminated against and denied participation, and this at a time when Mallorca, and therefore its resorts and towns, is seeking to diversify into areas such as cultural tourism. Pay the tourist the right respect, and maybe he will repay this through those sought-after alternative forms of tourism.
They don't need to spend this money on such brochures though. Let's face it, a couple of sheets of photocopied A4 would be quite sufficient; they're promoting events not the creative ability of a graphic designer. Moreover, there is the internet, albeit that Pollensa town hall's website is that useless it falls to the likes of myself to put the information into cyberspace in English.
One of the problems is that the tourist departments in the town halls are out of touch. I accept that it is not they who necessarily are involved in generating the promotional material, but it is they who are in the front-line of communicating with the visitor, supposedly. And don't just take my word for the fact that they are out of touch. I had a conversation with the Alcúdia tourism people the other day, and it was admitted as such. Which brings me, or will, to a whole other area of discussion. And this will be for tomorrow, unless something else gets in the way. Have a nice fiesta.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Wild Man Fischer. And here, if you can stand it, is the "song" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHqR1Rql5r8). For those of you unfamiliar with Larry Fischer, here is also a short docu thing on him - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OnHHk9z8iGE. Following the runaway success of Dimple Diamond's "Runaway Train", here is the latest of this blog's strangely big in Mallorca campaigns. Ladies and gentlemen, Wild Man Fischer. Today's title - not a song but a TV programme. Very famous exchange. Where's it from?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Merry Go, Merry Go, Merry Go Round, Ooo-Ooo-Ooo
It's been quite a while since this blog ventured around a roundabout. For those of you with long memories, you will recall that, for a time, here was a virtually daily tribute to the excellent accident opportunities afforded by the orgiastic creation of roundabouts along Alcúdia's Carretera Artà and to the roundabout furniture that grew from them. Talking of which, someone asked me the other day when they're going to get rid of that "thing" on the Horse Roundabout, that "thing" being the eponymous horse of course - allegedly and with due acknowledgement to Mr. Ed. Hideous, ludicrous, at least it gains a reaction, an Angel of the North sculpture with only a northern redemption and a complete absence of angelic quality. My guess is that the sculptor had a mate in the town hall.
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, accidents. Or how to cause one or, if not a full-blown front-on collision, then at least a considerable traffic problem. Let's take those roundabouts with no substance, those pink blobs on the road. Bear in mind that one is meant to drive on the right here, though the many locals who drive down the middle of the road might disagree with this, and they would certainly disagree when it comes to the roundabouts with no abouts. Either go straight across them or, preferably, go to the left side. That would appear to be how the local drivers are schooled anyway. See a roundabout that is sort of only pretending, and just ignore it. Don't on any account go to the right as you will only end up blocking the way of the bloke who hasn't, and he will be very hacked off. And it will be your fault, as it always is your fault. And God forbid that plod happens to be passing. "¿Hola, hola, hola, qué pasa aquí?"
Which brings me to Puerto Pollensa and its new road. A fine bit of tarmac it is, too. But the roundabouts, of which there are thousands, are designed in such a way that not only do they prevent any form of lane discipline (not that this matters anyway), they are also so tightly laid out that they are best taken at a snail's speed unless you fancy mounting one of the high kerbs and ripping your under-carriage out. Moreover, they are also spoiling Trafico for choice. So many roundabouts, where to hang out? For an island that used to have but one roundabout not that many years ago, the place has become a veritable Swindon of circular driving, and now Puerto Pollensa has joined the ranks of Roundabout Cities.
And continuing a police theme, did you know that the marching season is nearly upon us? This is not some quaint old Mallorcan tradition, but a contemporary industrial relations tradition - one of demonstrating. The local police in Pollensa are none too happy with the town hall - working conditions, that sort of thing - and so they are going to down whistles, or whatever they down, and take to the streets. Heavy boots rumbling along the charming lanes and roads of the old town. Anyway, as this is a new event in the calendar, make a note for your diary - the first such march will be on 29 July, kicking off from the town hall at ten in the morning. And, apparently, there will be repeats on subsequent Wednesdays and Saturdays. Sounds like splendid fun, especially during the Patrona celebrations.
And following-up yesterday, a comment left suggested that your average tourist on being greeted either in Castilian or Mallorquín would reply - "do you speak English?" This is of course absolutely right and I thank "allanglens" for making the point, which only goes to emphasise the oddness of all this Catalan-restaurant carry-on.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Bill Withers and Grover Washington (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4eJbEcq5LWo). Boring video; boring song to be honest. Today's title - which nutcase (and that is pretty much right) did this? Anyone who gets this has a personalised sculpture commissioned to be positioned on one of Pollensa Roundabout City's new road system.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, accidents. Or how to cause one or, if not a full-blown front-on collision, then at least a considerable traffic problem. Let's take those roundabouts with no substance, those pink blobs on the road. Bear in mind that one is meant to drive on the right here, though the many locals who drive down the middle of the road might disagree with this, and they would certainly disagree when it comes to the roundabouts with no abouts. Either go straight across them or, preferably, go to the left side. That would appear to be how the local drivers are schooled anyway. See a roundabout that is sort of only pretending, and just ignore it. Don't on any account go to the right as you will only end up blocking the way of the bloke who hasn't, and he will be very hacked off. And it will be your fault, as it always is your fault. And God forbid that plod happens to be passing. "¿Hola, hola, hola, qué pasa aquí?"
Which brings me to Puerto Pollensa and its new road. A fine bit of tarmac it is, too. But the roundabouts, of which there are thousands, are designed in such a way that not only do they prevent any form of lane discipline (not that this matters anyway), they are also so tightly laid out that they are best taken at a snail's speed unless you fancy mounting one of the high kerbs and ripping your under-carriage out. Moreover, they are also spoiling Trafico for choice. So many roundabouts, where to hang out? For an island that used to have but one roundabout not that many years ago, the place has become a veritable Swindon of circular driving, and now Puerto Pollensa has joined the ranks of Roundabout Cities.
And continuing a police theme, did you know that the marching season is nearly upon us? This is not some quaint old Mallorcan tradition, but a contemporary industrial relations tradition - one of demonstrating. The local police in Pollensa are none too happy with the town hall - working conditions, that sort of thing - and so they are going to down whistles, or whatever they down, and take to the streets. Heavy boots rumbling along the charming lanes and roads of the old town. Anyway, as this is a new event in the calendar, make a note for your diary - the first such march will be on 29 July, kicking off from the town hall at ten in the morning. And, apparently, there will be repeats on subsequent Wednesdays and Saturdays. Sounds like splendid fun, especially during the Patrona celebrations.
And following-up yesterday, a comment left suggested that your average tourist on being greeted either in Castilian or Mallorquín would reply - "do you speak English?" This is of course absolutely right and I thank "allanglens" for making the point, which only goes to emphasise the oddness of all this Catalan-restaurant carry-on.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Bill Withers and Grover Washington (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4eJbEcq5LWo). Boring video; boring song to be honest. Today's title - which nutcase (and that is pretty much right) did this? Anyone who gets this has a personalised sculpture commissioned to be positioned on one of Pollensa Roundabout City's new road system.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Monday, July 14, 2008
Just The Two Of Us
Do you know that there are two official languages in Mallorca? If you do, well done, and count yourself in with the other 6.2% of Brits (assuming you are British; and if you are not, my apologies) who also know. A survey of tourists staying in Playa de Palma (as reported in the "Diario" on 11 July) discovered that there was a general lack of knowledge about the languages as well as a high level of indifference. And it's not as if coming back on holiday makes much of an impact. Only 7.3% of repeating Brits have become aware that Castilian and Catalan share official-language status.
This comes as no surprise in the sense that most visitors are unaware that there is another language, other than Spanish. Many will probably be unaware of Catalan's existence, let alone the fact that it (or Mallorquín) is spoken here. Let's face it: never over-estimate the knowledge of your average tourist.
The survey crops up in the context of the Mallorca Council's promotion of Catalan in restaurants (9 July: I Say High, You Say Low). Quite what the survey's findings have to do with this mystifies me. The fact that British, and German, tourists seem to care not a jot what language is used is no pretext with which to suggest that Catalan, or indeed any other language, should be used. I still don't understand quite what this is all about. Restaurant menus, in tourist places at any rate, are usually in several languages, Castilian and Catalan included. Your regular tourist goes to the page with his own language or the one he understands best. He does not go to the Castilian or Catalan page except if he is from mainland Spain.
Another of the survey's findings is that hardly any tourists are ever attended to by someone speaking Catalan. Of course they're not. More often than not, they will be greeted in English. Fatuous is a word that springs to mind in respect of some of this survey. Though this is not an apt description when one learns that only one in four Brits has done anything of a cultural nature while on holiday. I actually would question this. It would be good to know what they were asked precisely and, as importantly, how the tourist defines cultural. A trip to Marineland is probably cultural to some tourists. Apparently, nearly 40% of Brits would be interested in cultural activities, but I hope the Mallorcan tourist top brass don't get carried away. People will say anything as part of a survey.
To other matters ... And another blog to be linked. This is Married With Children Mallorca (http://mwcmallorca.blogspot.com). The work of Vicki McLeod, it is a look at things in the south of the island and well worth delving into. Vicki also appears on Luna Radio, which I confess I have never listened to. But maybe I will now do so and to Vicki's show on weekday afternoons.
And, as a sort of follow-up to yesterday, another election for another fiesta top-billing. A Maria, always a Maria, can forever say that she was a Beata, as in Beata Santa Catalina, she who was tempted but gave short shrift to the devil and whose memory lives on in what is reckoned to be the most traditional of Mallorcan fiestas - that of the Beata in Santa Margalida in September.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Ting Tings of course (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UX0p7uAW2s). Today's title - two languages, just the two, or maybe it's three, but anyway who did this?. By the way, I used Time Won't Give Me Time the other day. I really, really must keep a note of these titles as I found I had used it back in April as well. Oops.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
This comes as no surprise in the sense that most visitors are unaware that there is another language, other than Spanish. Many will probably be unaware of Catalan's existence, let alone the fact that it (or Mallorquín) is spoken here. Let's face it: never over-estimate the knowledge of your average tourist.
The survey crops up in the context of the Mallorca Council's promotion of Catalan in restaurants (9 July: I Say High, You Say Low). Quite what the survey's findings have to do with this mystifies me. The fact that British, and German, tourists seem to care not a jot what language is used is no pretext with which to suggest that Catalan, or indeed any other language, should be used. I still don't understand quite what this is all about. Restaurant menus, in tourist places at any rate, are usually in several languages, Castilian and Catalan included. Your regular tourist goes to the page with his own language or the one he understands best. He does not go to the Castilian or Catalan page except if he is from mainland Spain.
Another of the survey's findings is that hardly any tourists are ever attended to by someone speaking Catalan. Of course they're not. More often than not, they will be greeted in English. Fatuous is a word that springs to mind in respect of some of this survey. Though this is not an apt description when one learns that only one in four Brits has done anything of a cultural nature while on holiday. I actually would question this. It would be good to know what they were asked precisely and, as importantly, how the tourist defines cultural. A trip to Marineland is probably cultural to some tourists. Apparently, nearly 40% of Brits would be interested in cultural activities, but I hope the Mallorcan tourist top brass don't get carried away. People will say anything as part of a survey.
To other matters ... And another blog to be linked. This is Married With Children Mallorca (http://mwcmallorca.blogspot.com). The work of Vicki McLeod, it is a look at things in the south of the island and well worth delving into. Vicki also appears on Luna Radio, which I confess I have never listened to. But maybe I will now do so and to Vicki's show on weekday afternoons.
And, as a sort of follow-up to yesterday, another election for another fiesta top-billing. A Maria, always a Maria, can forever say that she was a Beata, as in Beata Santa Catalina, she who was tempted but gave short shrift to the devil and whose memory lives on in what is reckoned to be the most traditional of Mallorcan fiestas - that of the Beata in Santa Margalida in September.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Ting Tings of course (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UX0p7uAW2s). Today's title - two languages, just the two, or maybe it's three, but anyway who did this?. By the way, I used Time Won't Give Me Time the other day. I really, really must keep a note of these titles as I found I had used it back in April as well. Oops.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Sunday, July 13, 2008
That's Not My Name
There has been an election. Not a political one, but the people have spoken; the people of Pollensa. So long as you are over 16 and registered in the town, you can participate in this act of local democracy, the one to choose who plays whom during the climax to the annual Patrona fiesta in Pollensa. The two plum gigs are that of the hero Joan Mas and the Moorish pirate Dragut - Christian and Moor, all part of the re-enactment of the battle between the Christians and Moors which saw the latter repelled. You can see a representation of Joan Mas in the square by Saint Domingo; arm raised and sword at the ready, he was the defender of Pollensa and the vanquisher of the Moors.
It must, one presumes, be quite an honour to be nominated as Joan; less so perhaps Dragut, but somebody's got to do it, though whoever it is knows that he cannot reverse the truth of history - Dragut always gets bested. The honour this year has fallen to one Miquel Cifre, and "one" is quite apt as there are a lot of Miquel Cifres knocking around. I don't know the most popular combination of male names here, but Miquel Cifre must be hovering somewhere at the top of the list.
It should, I suppose, come as little surprise that on an island with a relatively small indigenous population that there is such a lack of diversity in names, both Christian and surname. In the case of Christian names, this has more to do with the sheer constraints that exist - saints names and a strict code that does not allow "new" names mean that males are Joans, Peps or Miquels, females are Joanas, Catis or Marias. At times it can feel like that old Python sketch about Australians - Bruce, Bruce and Bruce. The restrictions on Christian names creates a homogeneity of appellation; personally, I prefer the free-for-all that exists in Britain. It does little for a sense of individuality when everyone seems to have the same name. One of the reasons for imposing this restriction is to prevent the child being in some way demeaned by an embarrassing name. There is some sense in this; the downside of the free-for-all is that it does not always reflect the child's best interests among his peers as he or she grows up. The Mallorcan would not only not call his kids Wayne or Kylie, he could not. The Christian name stock is only enlivened by incomers who bring with them Shane or Scarlett.
The surname, and bear in mind that there are two surnames, seems even more uniform. Two of my neighbours are Claderas. This, together with the likes of Cifre, Rotger and Ferrer, appears to cover most of the population, most of whom also seem related in some way or another. When I'm handed a personal cheque, it is remarkable the repetitiousness of the surnames that one reads; when I'm with a Mallorcan, it is also remarkable the number of cousins and second cousins who can happen to pass by. It has been said to me that some Mallorcan surnames do not sound very Spanish, by which I guess people mean that anyone from Spain should be called Gonzalez or Garcia. But the names reflect a different heritage - certain ones, such as Vanrell or Plomer, appear quite divorced from "Spanish".
And so one comes back to Patrona and this year's "Joan". One good thing perhaps is that if someone asks who's doing Joan this time, then replying Miquel Cifre would be a pretty good guess - and it would happen to be right.
Note by the way that the name Joan is pronounced like the girl's name in English - Joanne. The "j" is basically as it is in English and not the h-sound of, say, Juan in Spanish. Note also that some names, mine for instance, invariably get changed. I've given up (in truth I have never really bothered to protest) trying to get the name written with a w; instead it has a u or sometimes an iu. Whatever.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Queen (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wdt5QwssWY4). Today's title - very easy.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
It must, one presumes, be quite an honour to be nominated as Joan; less so perhaps Dragut, but somebody's got to do it, though whoever it is knows that he cannot reverse the truth of history - Dragut always gets bested. The honour this year has fallen to one Miquel Cifre, and "one" is quite apt as there are a lot of Miquel Cifres knocking around. I don't know the most popular combination of male names here, but Miquel Cifre must be hovering somewhere at the top of the list.
It should, I suppose, come as little surprise that on an island with a relatively small indigenous population that there is such a lack of diversity in names, both Christian and surname. In the case of Christian names, this has more to do with the sheer constraints that exist - saints names and a strict code that does not allow "new" names mean that males are Joans, Peps or Miquels, females are Joanas, Catis or Marias. At times it can feel like that old Python sketch about Australians - Bruce, Bruce and Bruce. The restrictions on Christian names creates a homogeneity of appellation; personally, I prefer the free-for-all that exists in Britain. It does little for a sense of individuality when everyone seems to have the same name. One of the reasons for imposing this restriction is to prevent the child being in some way demeaned by an embarrassing name. There is some sense in this; the downside of the free-for-all is that it does not always reflect the child's best interests among his peers as he or she grows up. The Mallorcan would not only not call his kids Wayne or Kylie, he could not. The Christian name stock is only enlivened by incomers who bring with them Shane or Scarlett.
The surname, and bear in mind that there are two surnames, seems even more uniform. Two of my neighbours are Claderas. This, together with the likes of Cifre, Rotger and Ferrer, appears to cover most of the population, most of whom also seem related in some way or another. When I'm handed a personal cheque, it is remarkable the repetitiousness of the surnames that one reads; when I'm with a Mallorcan, it is also remarkable the number of cousins and second cousins who can happen to pass by. It has been said to me that some Mallorcan surnames do not sound very Spanish, by which I guess people mean that anyone from Spain should be called Gonzalez or Garcia. But the names reflect a different heritage - certain ones, such as Vanrell or Plomer, appear quite divorced from "Spanish".
And so one comes back to Patrona and this year's "Joan". One good thing perhaps is that if someone asks who's doing Joan this time, then replying Miquel Cifre would be a pretty good guess - and it would happen to be right.
Note by the way that the name Joan is pronounced like the girl's name in English - Joanne. The "j" is basically as it is in English and not the h-sound of, say, Juan in Spanish. Note also that some names, mine for instance, invariably get changed. I've given up (in truth I have never really bothered to protest) trying to get the name written with a w; instead it has a u or sometimes an iu. Whatever.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Queen (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wdt5QwssWY4). Today's title - very easy.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Saturday, July 12, 2008
You're My Best Friend
A month on. 12 June I spoke about the scratch card malarkey in Alcúdia; here we go again.
I despair of some people. One of the scratch-cardists' sites is on the corner opposite New Pacific in the port. I wandered past the other day. Some buffer had got himself engaged in conversation with one of SC-ists. There was something about the old dictator; an old buffer giving it large with his vague knowledge and believing his interlocutor was in some way a mate. Some tourists need a slap. Everyone becomes a mate or best friend - and in some cases (bars for example) they sometimes do become so - but many are anything but. They want your money - period. The SC-ists more than most. Engañabobo. That buffer. The SC-ist could have seen him coming, happy to listen to what old twaddle and buffery was on offer in exchange for the potential handing over of a four-figure credit-card remuneration. One born every minute, and one born every minute who is prepared to serve himself up on a plate. Let's have a nice chat with this nice young man, and now let's pay for something we don't want and can't afford. Engañabobo.
The people who can afford to hand over a Mastercard in return for some holiday club deal are precisely the people who do not get suckered. Probably because they have their own villa anyway. It is those who cannot afford who get mullered. Frankly, some of them deserve little sympathy. All the talk of lack of tourist spend, and then some guy takes you to the side and entices you into a situation in which you can hand over maybe four or five times what you have budgeted to spend for your two weeks. Perhaps some other businesses could learn something from the SC-ists, because they surely are doing something "right" or they wouldn't still be around.
A translated copy of the letter that was sent to "The Bulletin", which was the same as the email which I received that sparked all this off back on 12 June, is doing the rounds at the town hall, which means the police as well as the tourism department. The tourist office people know, as the police will and many others, where the main centres of SC-ism occur. If you don't, let me tell you. Opposite New Pacific, by the Alcúdia Garden and at the top of The Mile.
I have been unsure about the status of the SC-ist operation. Perhaps others are similarly unsure. But when the person who sent me the email tells me that when the police put in an appearance and the SC-ists scatter and then return later in different clothing, one has to ask why they might do this. I've said before, and will say again, there is no issue with people looking to earn a kosher euro or more, but that ain't the case if tourists are being given grief, hassle, bother and abuse, even if some of them, some of these tourists, can be seen coming.
And some rather unpleasant news. A stabbing. Place: Sabor Latino, part of the Bells empire. Don't know the end result, but it wasn't pretty by all accounts. Rather more pleasant, though not totally pleasant, as will become clear, something that just suddenly appeared. Where was the photo op in "Ultima Hora" with the mayor and other worthies? When did it happen? Two to three weeks ago, according to Marina at the paseo tourist office in Puerto Alcúdia. Can't say I'd noticed till yesterday. What is it? In fact it is a they. Toilets. Public lavs. A wooden privvy place near to the tourist office. Marina was somewhat concerned about the cleaning arrangements. Once a day, it would seem. And the loos are only open when the tourist office is open, not that its management has anything to do with the tourist office. So, if you get taken short on a Sunday or at night, you won't be able to use the loos. To be honest, having peered in and got something of a whiff, I would advise paying for a coffee or something and continue using the nearest bar. I suppose it's good of them to have put some public loos in place, though I'm not sure they exactly do anything for the paseo.
Finally, and it just shows what a free gift of a bottle can do, word up for the arrival of Homer's favourite beer at Vamps. Yep, Duff Beer makes it to Alcúdia. And I shall be partaking of the bottle on finishing today's entry. Not actually sure what the whole deal with this is as Matt Groening has said he would not license the name, but there is a Cerveza Duff website, so ... or should that be ... doh. And oh ... what would happen to the Duff brew if they brought in beer price controls? Nope, I don't know either.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - the controls were set for the heart of the sun, Pink Floyd, and here it is, all ten minutes of it (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5_0iZQ-TuA). Today's title - easy.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
I despair of some people. One of the scratch-cardists' sites is on the corner opposite New Pacific in the port. I wandered past the other day. Some buffer had got himself engaged in conversation with one of SC-ists. There was something about the old dictator; an old buffer giving it large with his vague knowledge and believing his interlocutor was in some way a mate. Some tourists need a slap. Everyone becomes a mate or best friend - and in some cases (bars for example) they sometimes do become so - but many are anything but. They want your money - period. The SC-ists more than most. Engañabobo. That buffer. The SC-ist could have seen him coming, happy to listen to what old twaddle and buffery was on offer in exchange for the potential handing over of a four-figure credit-card remuneration. One born every minute, and one born every minute who is prepared to serve himself up on a plate. Let's have a nice chat with this nice young man, and now let's pay for something we don't want and can't afford. Engañabobo.
The people who can afford to hand over a Mastercard in return for some holiday club deal are precisely the people who do not get suckered. Probably because they have their own villa anyway. It is those who cannot afford who get mullered. Frankly, some of them deserve little sympathy. All the talk of lack of tourist spend, and then some guy takes you to the side and entices you into a situation in which you can hand over maybe four or five times what you have budgeted to spend for your two weeks. Perhaps some other businesses could learn something from the SC-ists, because they surely are doing something "right" or they wouldn't still be around.
A translated copy of the letter that was sent to "The Bulletin", which was the same as the email which I received that sparked all this off back on 12 June, is doing the rounds at the town hall, which means the police as well as the tourism department. The tourist office people know, as the police will and many others, where the main centres of SC-ism occur. If you don't, let me tell you. Opposite New Pacific, by the Alcúdia Garden and at the top of The Mile.
I have been unsure about the status of the SC-ist operation. Perhaps others are similarly unsure. But when the person who sent me the email tells me that when the police put in an appearance and the SC-ists scatter and then return later in different clothing, one has to ask why they might do this. I've said before, and will say again, there is no issue with people looking to earn a kosher euro or more, but that ain't the case if tourists are being given grief, hassle, bother and abuse, even if some of them, some of these tourists, can be seen coming.
And some rather unpleasant news. A stabbing. Place: Sabor Latino, part of the Bells empire. Don't know the end result, but it wasn't pretty by all accounts. Rather more pleasant, though not totally pleasant, as will become clear, something that just suddenly appeared. Where was the photo op in "Ultima Hora" with the mayor and other worthies? When did it happen? Two to three weeks ago, according to Marina at the paseo tourist office in Puerto Alcúdia. Can't say I'd noticed till yesterday. What is it? In fact it is a they. Toilets. Public lavs. A wooden privvy place near to the tourist office. Marina was somewhat concerned about the cleaning arrangements. Once a day, it would seem. And the loos are only open when the tourist office is open, not that its management has anything to do with the tourist office. So, if you get taken short on a Sunday or at night, you won't be able to use the loos. To be honest, having peered in and got something of a whiff, I would advise paying for a coffee or something and continue using the nearest bar. I suppose it's good of them to have put some public loos in place, though I'm not sure they exactly do anything for the paseo.
Finally, and it just shows what a free gift of a bottle can do, word up for the arrival of Homer's favourite beer at Vamps. Yep, Duff Beer makes it to Alcúdia. And I shall be partaking of the bottle on finishing today's entry. Not actually sure what the whole deal with this is as Matt Groening has said he would not license the name, but there is a Cerveza Duff website, so ... or should that be ... doh. And oh ... what would happen to the Duff brew if they brought in beer price controls? Nope, I don't know either.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - the controls were set for the heart of the sun, Pink Floyd, and here it is, all ten minutes of it (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5_0iZQ-TuA). Today's title - easy.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Friday, July 11, 2008
Set The Controls
How much should you pay for a beer? The editor of "The Bulletin" believes that the price should be controlled. One price, or one maximum price perhaps across the board. The context of this suggestion is the news that Mallorca is leaking tourists to the non-euro-zone destinations, Turkey most obviously. This is understandable, up to a point. The weakness of the pound, for the British visitor, makes alternative holiday centres attractive; the contemporary holidaymaker is a creature of price-sensitivity, and he has, courtesy of the internet, chapter and verse as to what it costs in different locations and where to go. Turkey may be flavour of the weak-pound month and year, but Mallorca, despite potentially greater expense, benefits from being nearer and from not being as damn hot. A Balearic summer may occasionally be excessively warm, but the Turkey and Greece of high summer are places of almost heat danger. But be that as it may.
The thrust of the argument in "The Bulletin" is that price control is needed, a) as a response to the strength of the euro, and b) as a means of preventing the island from pricing itself out of the tourism market. We've been here before. I've questioned the wisdom of the price control argument before, and so I will again.
Price controls do exist in Mallorca, for example with tobacco which is available at uniform prices via the monopolistic distribution channel of the tabacos. Price controls are not, therefore, unknown mechanisms, but the control of the price of a packet of 200 Lambert and Butler is quite a different thing to the price of a beer. In general, price controls are anathema to a freely functioning market; imposition of a price cuts away at one of the main tenets of how a business operates. In terms of a bar or restaurant's marketing, price is or should be a matter of judgement together with the other elements that comprise the 4Ps (alongside promotion, product and place). But to take the example of beer, what is one talking about precisely? There are numerous beers on offer via various bars. Each one attracts a variable in terms of it supply cost, and each one offers the bar-owner the opportunity to price according to what he believes his market can bear. A Saint Mick is not the same as a Thwaites or a Guinness. How would a price control work? Are we seriously to believe that each brand would have a set price levied with no scope for fluctuation up or down? What might be sensible in terms of market acceptance along Alcúdia's Mile or Magaluf´s Strip is not necessarily as sensible in Portals Nous.
Bars, in addition to their supply costs, have their own overheads to factor in, and these have all increased - energy, petrol, social security. Then there are rents to cover, to say nothing of all the additional costs related to taxes for this and that and the hygiene requirements that mean having to fork out for certain items of equipment. The bar's price equation is market acceptance complicated by the overall business margin requirement. Put a one-price fits all stamp on a glass of Saint Mick and the rest and it could be the end of some bars. And what would this price be? Who would set it? Who would know at what price to set it? Again, you have the variance of locations to take into account.
There are other factors at play - competition, whether the bar offers (and therefore has to pay for) live entertainment. And let's assume that there was a set price. Who would control and enforce it? And, as pertinently, who would have to pay for that control bureaucracy to be established? Bars have to be left alone to set their own prices. That they may be too high or too low for the immediate market is a mistake for them to be allowed to make, but it has to be their choice. The price-sensitive tourist is pretty savvy. If he goes to a bar and pays two more euros for a certain beer in one place but then finds it is two euros less down the road, then he will go down the road, unless there are elements of the more expensive bar's marketing that make him swallow the higher price. It's the consumer's choice as much as it is the bar's choice.
I'll give you an example. In Puerto Pollensa, a pint of Mahou costs almost two euros more at a bar in the church square than for the same pint at a bar close to the square. The bar in the square is basically a bar only. It offers snacks but not whole meals, which the second bar does. Turnovers and profits are therefore arrived at by a different mix of sales. Moreover, the bar in the square has location. The punter may prefer the ambience of the square to a bar away from it. And he pays for this as well he may also pay for a higher rent. One price for the Mahou may suit one bar but not the other, besides which the bars have to be allowed the flexibility to differentiate themselves, and price is one of those means of differentiation.
Create a price control and you start to move to not only uniformity of price but also uniformity of bar. Price controls are a statist intervention; they were beloved of centrally controlled economies and they abhor innovation and differentiation. Let's take another aspect of price - discounts. A bar, if it so wishes, can offer incentives in the form of discounts in order to attract custom from the competition. Under a price control mechanism, how would discounts work? The answer is that they wouldn't. Control the price and you also control the bar-owner's ability to play with another of the elements of the marketing mix; discounts may be price but they are also promotion.
I'm afraid that the price-control argument is too simplistic. That Mallorca's bars may have become more expensive is a function more of macroeconomics than it is of the micro version of how the business itself operates. The imbalance in the exchange rate is a market mechanism at the macro level; to seek some redress by market interference at the micro level makes no sense. The price of a beer is not irrelevant as it is one of those things that the tourist can easily make an assessment of, but in the wider context it is far less relevant. But let's assume again that there were to be a price control, why stop at beer? Why not control the price of a burger and chips, a hotel room, an excursion?
Mallorca's difficulties are complex. It is a mature holiday market, struggling to diversify, which is a normal process for any "business" at the mature stage of its life cycle. It finds itself in a highly competitive market in which the rules are not the same, the exchange rates being one of them. It also finds itself faced by what may only be temporary conditions but are nonetheless difficult conditions - the credit crunch most obviously. It does also find itself becoming more expensive, but this, in part, is the consequence of its success and its wealth, much of it founded on the benefits brought about by euro-zone participation. Controlling beer prices is no solution. The market will ultimately decide, and the market's decision may not be to everyone's liking.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - well it was Talk Talk. I have no youtube for the song but no matter as it gives me an excuse for something else by what was a top band - here is "Living In Another World" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3V6CdsAMGYk). Today's title - the controls were set for what, and by which band?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
The thrust of the argument in "The Bulletin" is that price control is needed, a) as a response to the strength of the euro, and b) as a means of preventing the island from pricing itself out of the tourism market. We've been here before. I've questioned the wisdom of the price control argument before, and so I will again.
Price controls do exist in Mallorca, for example with tobacco which is available at uniform prices via the monopolistic distribution channel of the tabacos. Price controls are not, therefore, unknown mechanisms, but the control of the price of a packet of 200 Lambert and Butler is quite a different thing to the price of a beer. In general, price controls are anathema to a freely functioning market; imposition of a price cuts away at one of the main tenets of how a business operates. In terms of a bar or restaurant's marketing, price is or should be a matter of judgement together with the other elements that comprise the 4Ps (alongside promotion, product and place). But to take the example of beer, what is one talking about precisely? There are numerous beers on offer via various bars. Each one attracts a variable in terms of it supply cost, and each one offers the bar-owner the opportunity to price according to what he believes his market can bear. A Saint Mick is not the same as a Thwaites or a Guinness. How would a price control work? Are we seriously to believe that each brand would have a set price levied with no scope for fluctuation up or down? What might be sensible in terms of market acceptance along Alcúdia's Mile or Magaluf´s Strip is not necessarily as sensible in Portals Nous.
Bars, in addition to their supply costs, have their own overheads to factor in, and these have all increased - energy, petrol, social security. Then there are rents to cover, to say nothing of all the additional costs related to taxes for this and that and the hygiene requirements that mean having to fork out for certain items of equipment. The bar's price equation is market acceptance complicated by the overall business margin requirement. Put a one-price fits all stamp on a glass of Saint Mick and the rest and it could be the end of some bars. And what would this price be? Who would set it? Who would know at what price to set it? Again, you have the variance of locations to take into account.
There are other factors at play - competition, whether the bar offers (and therefore has to pay for) live entertainment. And let's assume that there was a set price. Who would control and enforce it? And, as pertinently, who would have to pay for that control bureaucracy to be established? Bars have to be left alone to set their own prices. That they may be too high or too low for the immediate market is a mistake for them to be allowed to make, but it has to be their choice. The price-sensitive tourist is pretty savvy. If he goes to a bar and pays two more euros for a certain beer in one place but then finds it is two euros less down the road, then he will go down the road, unless there are elements of the more expensive bar's marketing that make him swallow the higher price. It's the consumer's choice as much as it is the bar's choice.
I'll give you an example. In Puerto Pollensa, a pint of Mahou costs almost two euros more at a bar in the church square than for the same pint at a bar close to the square. The bar in the square is basically a bar only. It offers snacks but not whole meals, which the second bar does. Turnovers and profits are therefore arrived at by a different mix of sales. Moreover, the bar in the square has location. The punter may prefer the ambience of the square to a bar away from it. And he pays for this as well he may also pay for a higher rent. One price for the Mahou may suit one bar but not the other, besides which the bars have to be allowed the flexibility to differentiate themselves, and price is one of those means of differentiation.
Create a price control and you start to move to not only uniformity of price but also uniformity of bar. Price controls are a statist intervention; they were beloved of centrally controlled economies and they abhor innovation and differentiation. Let's take another aspect of price - discounts. A bar, if it so wishes, can offer incentives in the form of discounts in order to attract custom from the competition. Under a price control mechanism, how would discounts work? The answer is that they wouldn't. Control the price and you also control the bar-owner's ability to play with another of the elements of the marketing mix; discounts may be price but they are also promotion.
I'm afraid that the price-control argument is too simplistic. That Mallorca's bars may have become more expensive is a function more of macroeconomics than it is of the micro version of how the business itself operates. The imbalance in the exchange rate is a market mechanism at the macro level; to seek some redress by market interference at the micro level makes no sense. The price of a beer is not irrelevant as it is one of those things that the tourist can easily make an assessment of, but in the wider context it is far less relevant. But let's assume again that there were to be a price control, why stop at beer? Why not control the price of a burger and chips, a hotel room, an excursion?
Mallorca's difficulties are complex. It is a mature holiday market, struggling to diversify, which is a normal process for any "business" at the mature stage of its life cycle. It finds itself in a highly competitive market in which the rules are not the same, the exchange rates being one of them. It also finds itself faced by what may only be temporary conditions but are nonetheless difficult conditions - the credit crunch most obviously. It does also find itself becoming more expensive, but this, in part, is the consequence of its success and its wealth, much of it founded on the benefits brought about by euro-zone participation. Controlling beer prices is no solution. The market will ultimately decide, and the market's decision may not be to everyone's liking.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - well it was Talk Talk. I have no youtube for the song but no matter as it gives me an excuse for something else by what was a top band - here is "Living In Another World" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3V6CdsAMGYk). Today's title - the controls were set for what, and by which band?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Talk Talk
The Germans have a marvellously literal vocabulary. Take the word "Mundart"; it is the German for dialect. Literally, it means mouth-type. Dialect and accent, though of course different, are often interwoven in creating a sort of über-Mundart, if I can use such an expression. One begets the other, or is it the other way round? The Germans can also lay claim to one of the most horrid accents known to European man - rural Franconian in Bavaria. Not only horrid, it is incomprehensible even to those who speak it.
I was thinking about Mundart and accents and mouth-types this afternoon; mouth-types should just as equally apply to accents. In fact I was thinking about all this after yesterday's piece. But it hit home when I went for an hour or so's cooling by the sea. There were two young Mallorcan women. Not unattractive it must be said. Shame about the mouth-type. I know many Mallorcans, and most are dear, sweet people, but they are possessed of one great flaw - they sound as though they are cats being strangled, and usually cats being strangled very loudly. For a people who apparently have a trait which eschews drawing attention to themselves, the Mallorcans have a strange way of showing it, when it comes to what emanates via their vocal chords. One of my Mallorcan neighbours has a gob on her the size of Albufera, and she is hardly unique.
Most languages, dialects and accents are tolerable, even if some, like Dutch, grate like nails being drawn down a blackboard. Not all mouth-types can attain the sensuous perfection of the French or the rich melodies of the Irish. Local accents in Britain are not necessarily the stuff of mouth-type beauty - dense Brummie for instance; Mallorquín is the sort of Brummie of the "Spanish" languages. Listen to a bunch of Mallorcans speaking and there is this repetitiousness of the "cha-aaah" sound, which lends itself to the strangled-cat metaphor. Then there is the sheer length of some vowel sounds. Take a very short word like "bé" (the equivalent of bien in Spanish). This is not just the whole nine yards of long vowels, it is the whole nine hundred yards - beeeaaaarrrr. Strangled cats and strangled sheep.
You see, when they go on about defence of local languages and all the rest, they are missing one vital test - whether it actually sounds any good or not. There are doubtless local accents and dialects dotted around Europe that could compete, for sheer rhapsodic quality, with the French, but Mallorquín is not one of them. And then you come back to the volume. All those sound limiters in bars and so on, has anyone ever thought about fitting one to a Mallorcan?
Anyway, we all speak with different tongues, and linguistic diversity is something to be celebrated not criticised. I speak with a tongue. Right here on this blog. I just have. There is my tongue. Can you see it? Inside my cheek. All of this stuff in my tongue; all of this I have just written. True or false, as Riki Lash might ask - in an American accent.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Beatles (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QShSmpI0r9k). Today's title - Er, well who did this?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
I was thinking about Mundart and accents and mouth-types this afternoon; mouth-types should just as equally apply to accents. In fact I was thinking about all this after yesterday's piece. But it hit home when I went for an hour or so's cooling by the sea. There were two young Mallorcan women. Not unattractive it must be said. Shame about the mouth-type. I know many Mallorcans, and most are dear, sweet people, but they are possessed of one great flaw - they sound as though they are cats being strangled, and usually cats being strangled very loudly. For a people who apparently have a trait which eschews drawing attention to themselves, the Mallorcans have a strange way of showing it, when it comes to what emanates via their vocal chords. One of my Mallorcan neighbours has a gob on her the size of Albufera, and she is hardly unique.
Most languages, dialects and accents are tolerable, even if some, like Dutch, grate like nails being drawn down a blackboard. Not all mouth-types can attain the sensuous perfection of the French or the rich melodies of the Irish. Local accents in Britain are not necessarily the stuff of mouth-type beauty - dense Brummie for instance; Mallorquín is the sort of Brummie of the "Spanish" languages. Listen to a bunch of Mallorcans speaking and there is this repetitiousness of the "cha-aaah" sound, which lends itself to the strangled-cat metaphor. Then there is the sheer length of some vowel sounds. Take a very short word like "bé" (the equivalent of bien in Spanish). This is not just the whole nine yards of long vowels, it is the whole nine hundred yards - beeeaaaarrrr. Strangled cats and strangled sheep.
You see, when they go on about defence of local languages and all the rest, they are missing one vital test - whether it actually sounds any good or not. There are doubtless local accents and dialects dotted around Europe that could compete, for sheer rhapsodic quality, with the French, but Mallorquín is not one of them. And then you come back to the volume. All those sound limiters in bars and so on, has anyone ever thought about fitting one to a Mallorcan?
Anyway, we all speak with different tongues, and linguistic diversity is something to be celebrated not criticised. I speak with a tongue. Right here on this blog. I just have. There is my tongue. Can you see it? Inside my cheek. All of this stuff in my tongue; all of this I have just written. True or false, as Riki Lash might ask - in an American accent.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Beatles (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QShSmpI0r9k). Today's title - Er, well who did this?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
I Say High, You Say Low
At the risk of further suggestions that I have a personal agenda, which I do not, more on the Castilian-Catalan language debate. Yesterday's "Diario" reported on the support by a group called "La Mesa del Turismo" (tourism table if you like) for a so-called manifesto for a common language, issued by a group of intellectuals who seek to defend the use of Castilian. This table includes none other than Air Berlin, who were at the centre of the apparent row regarding the "invitation" by the Balearic Government to use Catalan (14 June: Where The Air Is Rarefied).
On 2 July, the Mallorca Council announced that it would use 400,000 euros to promote the use of Catalan in the restaurant sector. The president of the "table" talks of "a linguistic police" imposing Catalan on the restaurants. The group is also concerned about language for things such as road signs and, in general, for Spanish tourists, Castilian speakers and foreigners.
So, here we have a clique of intellectuals making common cause with business in pursuing a common language - Castilian - and a local council that is prepared to spend public money in order to get menus printed in Catalan. One is almost inclined to wish a plague on both their asylums. In today's "Diario", the Catalan actor Jordi Dauder is reported as saying that "Castilian is not in danger, for God's sake", pointing out that the manifesto is a "political maneouvre". He speaks sense, though the Mallorca Council's restaurant language initiative is hardly anything else.
There is something vaguely absurd about a manifesto that seeks to defend what is the national language in the sense that it is spoken by more Spaniards as a first language than it is not. By the same token, interference in how businesses (restaurants) operate, as was the case with Air Berlin, should be a matter for businesses not for politicians. It isn't as if Catalan (or Mallorquín) is not already the language that is used. A restaurant owner chooses his language or languages based on his market; therefore, he will usually display a menu in Catalan (or Mallorquín), which is as it should be if that is his main market. Road signs are the same. Come from Palma Airport, and you do not see Puerto de Alcúdia, you see Port d'Alcúdia, the Catalan version.
Both sides of this debate seem to be lapsing into posturing. As I have said before, the overriding factor should be one of pragmatism, which would generally mean the use of Castilian. But not at the expense of what is, after all, a far from insignificant language - Catalan. It is though a debate that will not go away, as it runs far, far deeper than the mere use of road signs. History and cultures are intrinsically bound up in the debate, and recent history (that of the Franco era) saw the outlawing (in official circles at any rate) of a language spoken by millions. Post-Franco, the Spanish constitution has as one its precepts the defence of the different languages. Consequently, the debate is institutionally sanctioned. Go back further, and the creation of the Spanish nation at the time of the Catholic Kings was a defining moment in the linguistic debate. As most who know about business affairs will acknowledge, there is no such thing as a merger, there is only acquisition or at least one dominant partner. So it was with the union through marriage of Aragon and Castile. Isabel wore the trousers in that marriage, and Castile and its language came to dominate through the greater strength of Castile's trade and through the creation of empire. But go back further, to the time of King Jaime I, the liberator of Mallorca, and there is the firm hand of Catalan written onto the manuscript, or manifesto if you prefer. Jaime was, along with Ramón Llull, one of the great Catalan-ists, even if Llull was more eclectic in his linguistics.
In the Mallorcan context, therefore, there is the force of one of the island's most important figures (arguably the most important figure) to sustain and support the debate. But that, of course, ignores the fact that Catalan and Mallorquín are not the same thing. The latter may be a derivative of the former, but it differs in many respects. I bow to the insights in "Beloved Majorcans" which make it clear that Mallorquín is not just a less direct language than Catalan it is also a language that reflects a specific society and character. When the language debate is positioned on the polarities of Castilian and Catalan, it fails to recognise, in Mallorca at any rate, that neither is the local language.
The posturing is not one that arises in everyday life here. Most Mallorcan people are well aware that incomers do not speak their language. As a consequence, in addition to the Mallorcans who choose to use Castilian in any event, the languages co-exist in relative harmony. I, for example, can understand much written Mallorquín but I can't speak it, so I use Castilian, and so do those to whom I speak. I have never once, bar some ribbing, encountered any opposition to this. The politicans and the intellectuals are, it would seem, talking over the heads of the common people. But then, 'twas ever thus.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Dionne Warwick (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gsUuZMpXHk). Today's title - one says one thing, the other another - who was this?.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
On 2 July, the Mallorca Council announced that it would use 400,000 euros to promote the use of Catalan in the restaurant sector. The president of the "table" talks of "a linguistic police" imposing Catalan on the restaurants. The group is also concerned about language for things such as road signs and, in general, for Spanish tourists, Castilian speakers and foreigners.
So, here we have a clique of intellectuals making common cause with business in pursuing a common language - Castilian - and a local council that is prepared to spend public money in order to get menus printed in Catalan. One is almost inclined to wish a plague on both their asylums. In today's "Diario", the Catalan actor Jordi Dauder is reported as saying that "Castilian is not in danger, for God's sake", pointing out that the manifesto is a "political maneouvre". He speaks sense, though the Mallorca Council's restaurant language initiative is hardly anything else.
There is something vaguely absurd about a manifesto that seeks to defend what is the national language in the sense that it is spoken by more Spaniards as a first language than it is not. By the same token, interference in how businesses (restaurants) operate, as was the case with Air Berlin, should be a matter for businesses not for politicians. It isn't as if Catalan (or Mallorquín) is not already the language that is used. A restaurant owner chooses his language or languages based on his market; therefore, he will usually display a menu in Catalan (or Mallorquín), which is as it should be if that is his main market. Road signs are the same. Come from Palma Airport, and you do not see Puerto de Alcúdia, you see Port d'Alcúdia, the Catalan version.
Both sides of this debate seem to be lapsing into posturing. As I have said before, the overriding factor should be one of pragmatism, which would generally mean the use of Castilian. But not at the expense of what is, after all, a far from insignificant language - Catalan. It is though a debate that will not go away, as it runs far, far deeper than the mere use of road signs. History and cultures are intrinsically bound up in the debate, and recent history (that of the Franco era) saw the outlawing (in official circles at any rate) of a language spoken by millions. Post-Franco, the Spanish constitution has as one its precepts the defence of the different languages. Consequently, the debate is institutionally sanctioned. Go back further, and the creation of the Spanish nation at the time of the Catholic Kings was a defining moment in the linguistic debate. As most who know about business affairs will acknowledge, there is no such thing as a merger, there is only acquisition or at least one dominant partner. So it was with the union through marriage of Aragon and Castile. Isabel wore the trousers in that marriage, and Castile and its language came to dominate through the greater strength of Castile's trade and through the creation of empire. But go back further, to the time of King Jaime I, the liberator of Mallorca, and there is the firm hand of Catalan written onto the manuscript, or manifesto if you prefer. Jaime was, along with Ramón Llull, one of the great Catalan-ists, even if Llull was more eclectic in his linguistics.
In the Mallorcan context, therefore, there is the force of one of the island's most important figures (arguably the most important figure) to sustain and support the debate. But that, of course, ignores the fact that Catalan and Mallorquín are not the same thing. The latter may be a derivative of the former, but it differs in many respects. I bow to the insights in "Beloved Majorcans" which make it clear that Mallorquín is not just a less direct language than Catalan it is also a language that reflects a specific society and character. When the language debate is positioned on the polarities of Castilian and Catalan, it fails to recognise, in Mallorca at any rate, that neither is the local language.
The posturing is not one that arises in everyday life here. Most Mallorcan people are well aware that incomers do not speak their language. As a consequence, in addition to the Mallorcans who choose to use Castilian in any event, the languages co-exist in relative harmony. I, for example, can understand much written Mallorquín but I can't speak it, so I use Castilian, and so do those to whom I speak. I have never once, bar some ribbing, encountered any opposition to this. The politicans and the intellectuals are, it would seem, talking over the heads of the common people. But then, 'twas ever thus.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Dionne Warwick (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gsUuZMpXHk). Today's title - one says one thing, the other another - who was this?.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Do You Know The Way To ...?
I ought to invoice Alcúdia town hall. Not that it would get me very far. Like it would not get bars and shops and the rest very far. There are the official tourist information offices and then there are the unofficial ones. I say Alcúdia, rather than Pollensa or Santa Margalida (Can Picafort), because I tend to be in Alcúdia more, and there is also the question of the "uniform", the one I have for Alcúdia and haven't quite got round to replicating for the other centres. Though there have been some comments about the red trim on the shorts, the "uniform" is basically yellow and black. My upper body stands out like a beacon with the black of www.thealcudiaguide.com shouting at passers-by from my back. I am outdoor advertising. I am advertising in motion, except when I am sitting down, which is as often as I can make it given the heat.
But this all comes at a price, in the sense that the uniform attracts questions. "Excuse me, can you tell me where ...?" The oddest, thus far, was the lady at the Viva Sunrise who wanted some help for her little girl whose henna tattoo had gone a bit awry. I am mobile medical advice as well.
I am though just one of many who dispense tourist information. In certain cases, it is probably as well. Take Can Picafort. The tourist information office is located in a sort of no-tourist's land between the main part of Can Pic and Son Bauló. You could be forgiven for not noticing it as it looks like it's the Guardia Civil, which is the next door. The office in the old town of Alcúdia doesn't necessarily stand out either. People find it eventually, but often having been into the town hall in a fruitless search. Life will be easier, one assumes, if the Can Ramis thing ever finally gets built by the market square as that is where the tourist office will be located.
The paseo (promenade) offices are the most prominent, and Puerto Pollensa's takes the accolade for most tourist-friendly in that not only is it perfectly located next to the bus stop and taxis it also allows for browsing, which the one in Puerto Alcúdia does not. It used to be browsable, but now the back door remains firmly off-limits. I don't really know why.
What one can't fault, at least in my experience when I have witnessed tourist-office encounters, is the help. Playa de Muro's is a good case in point. Cati is supremely attentive, and I say this without suggesting the other offices are not. And it's not the case that this office is not particularly busy; it does, after all, double as Muro town hall's sub-office. And then there are the offices who if they can't give an answer, look to find out, which is where my unofficial role comes in again. Puerto Alcúdia's Mile office has been known to ring my mobile in search of such-and-such a place.
To return to bars and hotels and the like though, they play a far from insignificant tourist-information role. It would make an interesting survey to find out what sources tourists use, when in situ on holiday here, to get information. The tourist-information offices keep statistics on their traffic, and categorise this by nationality. If the numbers are not looking that high, this might be construed as being a reflection of lack of tourists or lack of interest. But perhaps it means that the local bar is doing the job just as effectively. Which brings me to what the unofficial sources get to aid their unofficial tourist-information roles. Not a lot, from the town halls at any rate, if Alcúdia is typical. Take maps, the town hall's maps of the town. I quite understand that these are copyright and that they cost money to print, but is there not some way that bars etc. can have them without having to pay for them? Because that is the situation. And yet these bars and others are regularly fielding questions of the where is and do you know the way varieties.
Some sad news. Those who know Bar Bamboo in Puerto Alcúdia from the past will also know Eric Mercer. He has passed away. I know there are people who have been very grateful to Eric in the past for his help and that he will be sadly missed. Deepest sympathies go to Angela.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Helen Shapiro (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CtybZggplNY). Today's title - the place name's missing, but who was this? Been here not so long ago.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
But this all comes at a price, in the sense that the uniform attracts questions. "Excuse me, can you tell me where ...?" The oddest, thus far, was the lady at the Viva Sunrise who wanted some help for her little girl whose henna tattoo had gone a bit awry. I am mobile medical advice as well.
I am though just one of many who dispense tourist information. In certain cases, it is probably as well. Take Can Picafort. The tourist information office is located in a sort of no-tourist's land between the main part of Can Pic and Son Bauló. You could be forgiven for not noticing it as it looks like it's the Guardia Civil, which is the next door. The office in the old town of Alcúdia doesn't necessarily stand out either. People find it eventually, but often having been into the town hall in a fruitless search. Life will be easier, one assumes, if the Can Ramis thing ever finally gets built by the market square as that is where the tourist office will be located.
The paseo (promenade) offices are the most prominent, and Puerto Pollensa's takes the accolade for most tourist-friendly in that not only is it perfectly located next to the bus stop and taxis it also allows for browsing, which the one in Puerto Alcúdia does not. It used to be browsable, but now the back door remains firmly off-limits. I don't really know why.
What one can't fault, at least in my experience when I have witnessed tourist-office encounters, is the help. Playa de Muro's is a good case in point. Cati is supremely attentive, and I say this without suggesting the other offices are not. And it's not the case that this office is not particularly busy; it does, after all, double as Muro town hall's sub-office. And then there are the offices who if they can't give an answer, look to find out, which is where my unofficial role comes in again. Puerto Alcúdia's Mile office has been known to ring my mobile in search of such-and-such a place.
To return to bars and hotels and the like though, they play a far from insignificant tourist-information role. It would make an interesting survey to find out what sources tourists use, when in situ on holiday here, to get information. The tourist-information offices keep statistics on their traffic, and categorise this by nationality. If the numbers are not looking that high, this might be construed as being a reflection of lack of tourists or lack of interest. But perhaps it means that the local bar is doing the job just as effectively. Which brings me to what the unofficial sources get to aid their unofficial tourist-information roles. Not a lot, from the town halls at any rate, if Alcúdia is typical. Take maps, the town hall's maps of the town. I quite understand that these are copyright and that they cost money to print, but is there not some way that bars etc. can have them without having to pay for them? Because that is the situation. And yet these bars and others are regularly fielding questions of the where is and do you know the way varieties.
Some sad news. Those who know Bar Bamboo in Puerto Alcúdia from the past will also know Eric Mercer. He has passed away. I know there are people who have been very grateful to Eric in the past for his help and that he will be sadly missed. Deepest sympathies go to Angela.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Helen Shapiro (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CtybZggplNY). Today's title - the place name's missing, but who was this? Been here not so long ago.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Monday, July 07, 2008
Walking Back To Happiness
"I love to go a-wandering ..."
Personally, anyone who wants to go a-wandering or a-hiking or a-anything that requires placing one foot in front of the other for further than it takes to get from the beach-bar to the sea when it's this damn hot needs, I feel, the attention of those who study the brain. But there are those who have a macho and indeed masochistic desire to go a-yomping through the mountain greenery when most sane people are a-floating on a lilo. A whole bunch of them did so just the other day in order to inaugurate the new wandering route that starts from Alcúdia, goes by Coll Baix and then on and past La Victoria. 20 kilometres in all. Insane.
Not that the route is insane as such, just doing it at this time of the year is. Anyway, this new route, with its guiding posts and maps and what have you, has been created at a cost of some 45,000 euros. From now on, in honour of the apparent monthly earnings of a lucky-lucky man along The Mile, this equates to a mere 18 Luckies. Sounds pretty good value to me. It's all part of a programme called "Camina per Mallorca", and so no doubt there will be some promotion at some point that seeks to attract hordes of hikers and ramblers to the island, and to Alcúdia in particular. Not a bad idea - but not for the summer tourist, bar those with an especially hearty bent.
And the attraction of non-summer tourists, or more specifically the need to attract non-summer tourists is aired yet again, this time by ACOTUR, the ones who have started the anti-lucky-lucky men campaign. This tourist businesses organisation reckons that up to 50% of businesses in certain areas of the island are up for sale, the consequence of, you've guessed it, lower spend, all-inclusives, the euro-pound situation and a shortening summer season. ACOTUR's spokesperson pointed to all these factors as being harmful to its members' interests, though he did not wish to sound alarmist. Why not? Some bugger should be standing on top of the local hillside and clanging that alarm bell day and night, except of course he would have the Noise Patrol swoop and check his sound limiter. And talking of which, the Delfin Azul hotel fell foul of the patrol, but are now a-noising again. But this is beside the point. What is, is that business organisations like ACOTUR are just the ones who should be kicking up a hell of a stink, be it lucky-lucky men or the state of the tourism industry, as the latter - and expect this to last certainly into next year - is not a state of happiness.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - James Brown. Today's title - who? Clue: she was a one-time, long-ago teen sensation who then found religion.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Personally, anyone who wants to go a-wandering or a-hiking or a-anything that requires placing one foot in front of the other for further than it takes to get from the beach-bar to the sea when it's this damn hot needs, I feel, the attention of those who study the brain. But there are those who have a macho and indeed masochistic desire to go a-yomping through the mountain greenery when most sane people are a-floating on a lilo. A whole bunch of them did so just the other day in order to inaugurate the new wandering route that starts from Alcúdia, goes by Coll Baix and then on and past La Victoria. 20 kilometres in all. Insane.
Not that the route is insane as such, just doing it at this time of the year is. Anyway, this new route, with its guiding posts and maps and what have you, has been created at a cost of some 45,000 euros. From now on, in honour of the apparent monthly earnings of a lucky-lucky man along The Mile, this equates to a mere 18 Luckies. Sounds pretty good value to me. It's all part of a programme called "Camina per Mallorca", and so no doubt there will be some promotion at some point that seeks to attract hordes of hikers and ramblers to the island, and to Alcúdia in particular. Not a bad idea - but not for the summer tourist, bar those with an especially hearty bent.
And the attraction of non-summer tourists, or more specifically the need to attract non-summer tourists is aired yet again, this time by ACOTUR, the ones who have started the anti-lucky-lucky men campaign. This tourist businesses organisation reckons that up to 50% of businesses in certain areas of the island are up for sale, the consequence of, you've guessed it, lower spend, all-inclusives, the euro-pound situation and a shortening summer season. ACOTUR's spokesperson pointed to all these factors as being harmful to its members' interests, though he did not wish to sound alarmist. Why not? Some bugger should be standing on top of the local hillside and clanging that alarm bell day and night, except of course he would have the Noise Patrol swoop and check his sound limiter. And talking of which, the Delfin Azul hotel fell foul of the patrol, but are now a-noising again. But this is beside the point. What is, is that business organisations like ACOTUR are just the ones who should be kicking up a hell of a stink, be it lucky-lucky men or the state of the tourism industry, as the latter - and expect this to last certainly into next year - is not a state of happiness.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - James Brown. Today's title - who? Clue: she was a one-time, long-ago teen sensation who then found religion.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Papa's Got A Brand New (Lucky) Bag
There was, it would seem, a slight oversight in the "Diario" report about the lucky-lucky men (see yesterday). What's in the lucky bag exactly, Mr Lucky? If you're really lucky and one prone to certain forms of experimentation, Mr Lucky may well have more than just a genuine fake Rolex with which to persuade you to hand over some folded euros.
Now what do you think might be in Mr Lucky's lucky bag, children? Because Mr Lucky is quite a happy chappy; a happy chappy who will stop daddy and let him looky-looky into his lucky bag. And what's this that daddy's found, children? Isn't Mr Lucky a funny man. That's not a Rolex, is it. Look here, see what Mr Lucky has. Some crack.
I was given this story about a luckster who stopped a tourist (with his family) along The Mile and who was nearly given a bath in the canal by the tourist, who happened to be a police officer. The not-so-lucky luckster had offered him some crack. Seemingly, the Rolex and Gucci glasses business is in fact in something of a recession, so the lucksters have diversified.
It would also seem that there is some form of lucky-lucky cloning going on. For every luckster that might have his collar felt, there is another one ready to take his place. A limitless supply of luckies. Lock one up, and up pops another.
There is stuff going down on the streets that they really need to get a hold of. ACOTUR's complaints (see also yesterday) are one thing, but there are things that you shouldn't have to expect, not in a family holiday resort anyway. I was once strolling along Bourbon Street in New Orleans and a guy sidled up to me and asked if I wanted anything. You sort of expect that in a place like New Orleans. Not in Alcúdia, you don't. Or rather, you would hope not. It's naïve to think this doesn't go on here, as it does in other parts of Mallorca. That doesn't make it any more acceptable though.
But much more pleasant news. This blog can claim many a success in its way over 500 entries these past couple of years or so. Successes like ... er ... . Anyway, the time has come to celebrate as, ladies and gentlemen, the Dimplester has shot over the 400 views mark. An almost 33% increase in Runaway Train traffic since he first appeared here, only a few days ago. For those of you who have yet to pay homage, here it is. For one more day only, I give you Dimple Diamond from Derby - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Kylie. The youtube is the great and very different version she did with Jools Holland (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeChtm8aafg). Today's title - who did this (minus the lucky)?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Now what do you think might be in Mr Lucky's lucky bag, children? Because Mr Lucky is quite a happy chappy; a happy chappy who will stop daddy and let him looky-looky into his lucky bag. And what's this that daddy's found, children? Isn't Mr Lucky a funny man. That's not a Rolex, is it. Look here, see what Mr Lucky has. Some crack.
I was given this story about a luckster who stopped a tourist (with his family) along The Mile and who was nearly given a bath in the canal by the tourist, who happened to be a police officer. The not-so-lucky luckster had offered him some crack. Seemingly, the Rolex and Gucci glasses business is in fact in something of a recession, so the lucksters have diversified.
It would also seem that there is some form of lucky-lucky cloning going on. For every luckster that might have his collar felt, there is another one ready to take his place. A limitless supply of luckies. Lock one up, and up pops another.
There is stuff going down on the streets that they really need to get a hold of. ACOTUR's complaints (see also yesterday) are one thing, but there are things that you shouldn't have to expect, not in a family holiday resort anyway. I was once strolling along Bourbon Street in New Orleans and a guy sidled up to me and asked if I wanted anything. You sort of expect that in a place like New Orleans. Not in Alcúdia, you don't. Or rather, you would hope not. It's naïve to think this doesn't go on here, as it does in other parts of Mallorca. That doesn't make it any more acceptable though.
But much more pleasant news. This blog can claim many a success in its way over 500 entries these past couple of years or so. Successes like ... er ... . Anyway, the time has come to celebrate as, ladies and gentlemen, the Dimplester has shot over the 400 views mark. An almost 33% increase in Runaway Train traffic since he first appeared here, only a few days ago. For those of you who have yet to pay homage, here it is. For one more day only, I give you Dimple Diamond from Derby - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Kylie. The youtube is the great and very different version she did with Jools Holland (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeChtm8aafg). Today's title - who did this (minus the lucky)?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Lucky, Lucky, Lucky
They should be so unlucky. Unlucky, unlucky, unlucky. Ah yes, the power of the bottom-line, kick-ass self-interest. When all else fails, or more aptly, when nothing else has actually really been done, one can rely on commercial motives to rouse the slumbering leviathan of the Alcúdia town hall from its summer stupor.
ACOTUR is an organisation that represents Mallorca's tourist businesses. It has been sending letters, two of them in fact, both to the Alcúdia ayuntamiento, complaining about the "invasion" of what are formally here called "vendedores ambulantes" but more commonly are known as lucky-lucky men. (Why, by the way, are there no lucky-lucky women? Whatever.) Every season an invasion of some sort; usually it's jellyfish, but this year the sting is taking place on the streets, and especially along and around one street - Pedro Mas y Reus - which the "Diario" insists on saying is referred to as the dollar mile, when we know better. ACOTUR seems not to be saying that its members are being harmed commercially, but one can assume that the fact that they say that each of the lucksters can trouser 2,500 euros or more a month is a roundabout way of saying that these 2,500 euros are not being spent elsewhere. And I thought tourism spend was meant to be down. No accounting for taste or good sense I suppose. If a tourist wants to part with hard cash for crap, that's his outlook.
But ACOTUR is not solely taking the commercial line. It points out, rightly, that the street sellers give the place a bad name and that they are the cause for many a complaint. Just as important are the facts that the watches, the sunglasses, the CDs, the things that glow and spin and the jewellery are all fake and that the street sellers are plying their trade illegally and paying nary a centimo in taxes. The lucksters will indeed be unlucky, unlucky, unlucky if ACOTUR's protests are met with the sound of heavy boots in pursuit of a collaring.
This is not the first time that the local businesses have tried to gang up. Three years ago, the businesses along The Mile started issuing leaflets telling tourists to say "no" to the street sellers and pointing out that the business was illegal. It didn't do much good. And one does wonder quite what the town hall and therefore also the local police have been doing all this time. Step forward Miquel Ferrer, mayor of Alcúdia, who says that the plod haven't been sitting on their backsides and do represent a significant presence around The Mile. Of course they do. Last night I was in The Mile. Late on, I was down by the canal where there is a row of five or so bars. If the police had a mind, they could hang around in the shadows there and await their prey. They wouldn't have to wait long.
For all that ACOTUR do rightly point to the fact that many tourists do get hacked off with the street sellers, there is - for every pissed-off holidaymaker - another who will happily engage in the banter and the transaction. And then, one has to ask, why do the bar and restaurant owners tolerate the lucksters coming onto their premises? If they were to all tell them to piss off, the trade would not be stopped in its tracks but would be undermined.
There is another worry for the business organisation, another worry that is giving rise to complaints and a bad image - and that is the operation of tiqueteros (PRs as they are known). Now I am not sure what the "Diario" report is referring to when it speaks of the forceful way in which tourists are approached. Might they be talking about our friends the scratch-cardists?
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Culture Club (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgJq5QPkpKQ). Today's title - can anyone not know this?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
ACOTUR is an organisation that represents Mallorca's tourist businesses. It has been sending letters, two of them in fact, both to the Alcúdia ayuntamiento, complaining about the "invasion" of what are formally here called "vendedores ambulantes" but more commonly are known as lucky-lucky men. (Why, by the way, are there no lucky-lucky women? Whatever.) Every season an invasion of some sort; usually it's jellyfish, but this year the sting is taking place on the streets, and especially along and around one street - Pedro Mas y Reus - which the "Diario" insists on saying is referred to as the dollar mile, when we know better. ACOTUR seems not to be saying that its members are being harmed commercially, but one can assume that the fact that they say that each of the lucksters can trouser 2,500 euros or more a month is a roundabout way of saying that these 2,500 euros are not being spent elsewhere. And I thought tourism spend was meant to be down. No accounting for taste or good sense I suppose. If a tourist wants to part with hard cash for crap, that's his outlook.
But ACOTUR is not solely taking the commercial line. It points out, rightly, that the street sellers give the place a bad name and that they are the cause for many a complaint. Just as important are the facts that the watches, the sunglasses, the CDs, the things that glow and spin and the jewellery are all fake and that the street sellers are plying their trade illegally and paying nary a centimo in taxes. The lucksters will indeed be unlucky, unlucky, unlucky if ACOTUR's protests are met with the sound of heavy boots in pursuit of a collaring.
This is not the first time that the local businesses have tried to gang up. Three years ago, the businesses along The Mile started issuing leaflets telling tourists to say "no" to the street sellers and pointing out that the business was illegal. It didn't do much good. And one does wonder quite what the town hall and therefore also the local police have been doing all this time. Step forward Miquel Ferrer, mayor of Alcúdia, who says that the plod haven't been sitting on their backsides and do represent a significant presence around The Mile. Of course they do. Last night I was in The Mile. Late on, I was down by the canal where there is a row of five or so bars. If the police had a mind, they could hang around in the shadows there and await their prey. They wouldn't have to wait long.
For all that ACOTUR do rightly point to the fact that many tourists do get hacked off with the street sellers, there is - for every pissed-off holidaymaker - another who will happily engage in the banter and the transaction. And then, one has to ask, why do the bar and restaurant owners tolerate the lucksters coming onto their premises? If they were to all tell them to piss off, the trade would not be stopped in its tracks but would be undermined.
There is another worry for the business organisation, another worry that is giving rise to complaints and a bad image - and that is the operation of tiqueteros (PRs as they are known). Now I am not sure what the "Diario" report is referring to when it speaks of the forceful way in which tourists are approached. Might they be talking about our friends the scratch-cardists?
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Culture Club (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgJq5QPkpKQ). Today's title - can anyone not know this?
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Friday, July 04, 2008
Time Won't Give Me Time
A happy event - Frederick and Emmi have a baby girl called Isabel. Bistro Bell in Alcúdia, that was La Sala, may no longer have the wail of Nanouk, but it can now anticipate another form of cry. I mention this by way of introduction to ... Firstly, Frederick was full of praise for Inca Hospital, commenting that concepts of service do seem to be thriving in some sectors of Mallorcan life. Secondly, I had stopped by the bistro to collect something. It was a book. It had been left there by one of my email correspondents - Charles - to whom I am very grateful. It was, and is, "Beloved Majorcans" by Guy de Forestier, some of you might know it. Published in 1995, the book is one of those rare insights into Mallorca, one that does not take as its raison d'être a brochure approach of the island, typified, as I pointed out the other day, by Thomsonisms that can give us something as pretentious as the "a hop, skip and a jump away from the shimmering sands of Muro beach" (21 June). This is not Mallorca through rose-tinted, glass-bottomed boat but nor is it Mallorca to hell and back. It is non-pompous, it is culturally, historically and linguistically literate and it is coloured with the ease of a journalistic style and a wit that is all too absent from mostly anything one reads about the island. It is also authored pseudonymously. The guy is not Guy. The author is in fact Carlos García-Delgado, born a Catalan but adopted by Mallorca. Though more or less native, the book - in translation at any rate - feels something other than a work by a Mallorcan (Catalan). It is though an insider has looked in from the outside, informed by that insider status.
As I scanned through the book for the first time, I was struck by certain coincidences to pieces have appeared in this blog over the now years. The coincidence of Chapter 8 - "The Concept Of Time" and Chapter 9 - "Buying And Selling" (doing business if you like). When, for example, I had spoken in the past about the non-existence or flexibility of time and indifference/ambivalence towards time, it hadn't necessarily occurred to me that someone else would have been there before. To quote: "What is certain is that in Majorca - and the sooner you realize this the better - minutes don't have sixty seconds, any more than days have twenty-four hours". Mañana may be a Spanish concept of non-time, but the Mallorcans have made of it a high art of abstraction.
The advice for those coming to live in Mallorca is such that I wonder to what degree those from northern Europe in particular can ever go native. Much of what García-Delgado says will be familiar to expats, some of whom will claim to have indeed gone native in adapting to, for instance, non-time if I can call it that. But I doubt them when they protest so. I also wonder whether, 13 years on from publication, the book still holds true. In many respects it does, but in others? Take Frederick and Inca Hospital. Service, if one follows García-Delgado's thesis, should hold no place in Mallorcan society, yet it does. But if anyone wants to experience, first-hand, "the slow pace at which things are done here - be forewarned if you have to go shopping, do business or deal with bureaucracy", then you can test and prove the thesis in respect especially of bureaucracy. Go to the office for foreign affairs in Palma, stand in the boiling sun or the rain in the queue to wait to get in, and then spend three hours waiting to get that residency certificate. I had been inclined to think of this as indifference or lack of respect; it isn't, or well it is, indifference at any rate. Because that time spent is not time; it is neutral, it is indifferent.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Tears For Fears (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1OduoZAUeM). Today's title - pretty easy, but think androgyny if a clue is needed.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
As I scanned through the book for the first time, I was struck by certain coincidences to pieces have appeared in this blog over the now years. The coincidence of Chapter 8 - "The Concept Of Time" and Chapter 9 - "Buying And Selling" (doing business if you like). When, for example, I had spoken in the past about the non-existence or flexibility of time and indifference/ambivalence towards time, it hadn't necessarily occurred to me that someone else would have been there before. To quote: "What is certain is that in Majorca - and the sooner you realize this the better - minutes don't have sixty seconds, any more than days have twenty-four hours". Mañana may be a Spanish concept of non-time, but the Mallorcans have made of it a high art of abstraction.
The advice for those coming to live in Mallorca is such that I wonder to what degree those from northern Europe in particular can ever go native. Much of what García-Delgado says will be familiar to expats, some of whom will claim to have indeed gone native in adapting to, for instance, non-time if I can call it that. But I doubt them when they protest so. I also wonder whether, 13 years on from publication, the book still holds true. In many respects it does, but in others? Take Frederick and Inca Hospital. Service, if one follows García-Delgado's thesis, should hold no place in Mallorcan society, yet it does. But if anyone wants to experience, first-hand, "the slow pace at which things are done here - be forewarned if you have to go shopping, do business or deal with bureaucracy", then you can test and prove the thesis in respect especially of bureaucracy. Go to the office for foreign affairs in Palma, stand in the boiling sun or the rain in the queue to wait to get in, and then spend three hours waiting to get that residency certificate. I had been inclined to think of this as indifference or lack of respect; it isn't, or well it is, indifference at any rate. Because that time spent is not time; it is neutral, it is indifferent.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Tears For Fears (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1OduoZAUeM). Today's title - pretty easy, but think androgyny if a clue is needed.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Shout, Shout, Let It All Out
More noise. It's not often that Leapy Lee in "Euro Weekly" pens something that is hard for anyone to disagree with, but in the current issue he has. It's about noise and the at-times absurd application of the "denuncia" (complaint) which the police are forced to act on. He cites the case of an 80 year old lady who was throwing a party and got a couple of visits from the local plod, acting on a complaint. There is a huge difference between a one-off event that finishes before midnight and persistent noise, but the ease with which people opt for a complaint should, I believe, be subject to whether they are using police time wisely. If it proves not, then the complainant should be brought to task.
But there are so many apparent inconsistencies and also unfairnesses when it comes to noise. Bars that get hammered by having to play music so low that it means a loss of business is just one example of what can be unfair. The other side of this coin is all the noise from various things on the road that are in blatant violation. The other day, there was a guy revving up and then riding a quad bike near me. It was as though Lewis Hamilton had dropped by to practise his starting-grid revving up and take-off. Then there are the motos and the din they make. Get a convoy of those, and ... I once went to the lawnmower 24-hour race at what was Oliver Reed's place. The moto is the souped-up lawnmower of the road here.
When I last spoke about noise, I got an email from John who pointed to the music events that take place in the centre of Alcúdia. This is not the only place. By coincidence, on the noise theme, someone has been writing to "The Bulletin" to complain about a similar problem in Andratx. A rock-music gig going on at two or three in the morning in a town square is a million miles away from an 80 year-old with a band in her back garden. So where is the consistency? The answer is that there isn't any.
I have noted before that noise and holidays are almost inseparable. The holidaymaker often likes his music al fresco and into the wee smalls, and the romanticism of this has been curbed by things such as the midnight curfews. In one sense, it's a shame, but in another it's a perfectly acceptable compromise. The noise of the entertainment from a hotel, assuming it is within the noise limiters, is of course obtrusive, but one cannot live in a holiday environment and expect silence. The fact that a hotel may make this same noise night after night does not get it closed down, yet a one-off party can get a denuncia. Again, where is the consistency? The system of complaint should be subject to a more rigorous test, I feel.
Anyway, finally on this, I had another noise to deal with. Most of it can be handled. But voices, voices can be a real intrusion. Periodically, for reasons that defy me, a couple of what I assume to be lucky-lucky men have used the street outside my house for a late-night rendezvous. In the street, talking, talking loudly. The other night, at close on 1am, I had had enough, went onto the upper terrace and gave a loud "oi" shout. It worked. A "sorry, sorry" and they dispersed. Maybe they were concerned that I would phone the plod and make a denuncia. Now, I would never do something like that.
And Dimple Diamond update. Man alive, is this working well. That counter is now climbing ever more. It's like the Blue Peter Christmas Appeal, edging ever upwards. Let us not let him down, everyone. Here it comes again - the runaway train in that Derby-stylie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Faith No More. Today's title - easy, easy, peasy.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
But there are so many apparent inconsistencies and also unfairnesses when it comes to noise. Bars that get hammered by having to play music so low that it means a loss of business is just one example of what can be unfair. The other side of this coin is all the noise from various things on the road that are in blatant violation. The other day, there was a guy revving up and then riding a quad bike near me. It was as though Lewis Hamilton had dropped by to practise his starting-grid revving up and take-off. Then there are the motos and the din they make. Get a convoy of those, and ... I once went to the lawnmower 24-hour race at what was Oliver Reed's place. The moto is the souped-up lawnmower of the road here.
When I last spoke about noise, I got an email from John who pointed to the music events that take place in the centre of Alcúdia. This is not the only place. By coincidence, on the noise theme, someone has been writing to "The Bulletin" to complain about a similar problem in Andratx. A rock-music gig going on at two or three in the morning in a town square is a million miles away from an 80 year-old with a band in her back garden. So where is the consistency? The answer is that there isn't any.
I have noted before that noise and holidays are almost inseparable. The holidaymaker often likes his music al fresco and into the wee smalls, and the romanticism of this has been curbed by things such as the midnight curfews. In one sense, it's a shame, but in another it's a perfectly acceptable compromise. The noise of the entertainment from a hotel, assuming it is within the noise limiters, is of course obtrusive, but one cannot live in a holiday environment and expect silence. The fact that a hotel may make this same noise night after night does not get it closed down, yet a one-off party can get a denuncia. Again, where is the consistency? The system of complaint should be subject to a more rigorous test, I feel.
Anyway, finally on this, I had another noise to deal with. Most of it can be handled. But voices, voices can be a real intrusion. Periodically, for reasons that defy me, a couple of what I assume to be lucky-lucky men have used the street outside my house for a late-night rendezvous. In the street, talking, talking loudly. The other night, at close on 1am, I had had enough, went onto the upper terrace and gave a loud "oi" shout. It worked. A "sorry, sorry" and they dispersed. Maybe they were concerned that I would phone the plod and make a denuncia. Now, I would never do something like that.
And Dimple Diamond update. Man alive, is this working well. That counter is now climbing ever more. It's like the Blue Peter Christmas Appeal, edging ever upwards. Let us not let him down, everyone. Here it comes again - the runaway train in that Derby-stylie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Faith No More. Today's title - easy, easy, peasy.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
The Real Thing
Euro 2008 over, and you might have thought that football would go onto the summer back-burner. It would were it not for Freddy Shepherd, he once of Newcastle United and he who wants to buy Real Mallorca. It would had it not been for what was a distinctly odd piece in "The Bulletin". Well actually it wasn't that odd, just the conclusion which said that a Shepherd purchase would give the British community on the island a boost at a time of credit crunch and would also signal that British business "continues to have great belief in the region and is not afraid to invest in Mallorca". You what?
You're going to have to help me here as I'm struggling. There's nothing wrong with bigging up Mallorca as a place to invest, but what has that got to do with buying a football club? When Abramovic, the Glazers and Gillette and Hicks bought their Premier League clubs, was this because they believed that England was a good place to invest in? No it was not. The geographical location of Chelsea, Manchester United and Liverpool was irrelevant. They were buying football clubs that happened to be in England. Moreover, and this is relevant, football clubs that happened to offer the possibility of making a whole wedge of money, much of it from a cheque signed by the bosses of TV companies and from sales of merchandise to the Chinese who probably made the stuff in the first place, so coals to Newcastle and all that - as Mr. Shepherd will be particularly aware.
There are different motivations for buying football clubs, and making shedloads of dosh is but one of them. Ego and self-aggrandisement can both be found on the list. Many moons ago, I used to deal with the company that was the making of Robert Maxwell, the scientific journal publishers Pergamon. I was once at Pergamon HQ in Oxford, this being at the time that Maxwell was sniffing around Man United. I asked my contact what on Earth Cap'n Bob wanted with buying United. The answer was swift and simple. "He wants to be loved." I suppose there is nothing more egotistical than seeking the fan's love in return for buying his football club. Then there are the serial football entrepreneurs and directors - Peter Ridsdale, Ken Bates, Sam Hamman and now Freddy Shepherd - not all of whom have covered themselves in glory or have been honoured with the fan's undying love.
When Freddy Shepherd says that Real Mallorca has always been his "second team", this may well be the case and good luck to him if he wants to buy the club. But to nuance this as evidence of British confidence in investing in Mallorca per se is, I would submit, stretching the goalposts of mere football business beyond the touchlines. And quite what any of this has to do with the British community, credit crunch or no credit crunch, I am at a loss to explain. It is, perhaps, a simple case of serendipity. Mr. Shepherd spends a fair amount of time in Mallorca, the owner of the club needs to sell in order to pay off debts, and Mr. Shepherd has the proceeds from the sale of his Newcastle shares. All makes good sense, I suppose, but a case of investing in the island? Sorry, but I don't think so.
Oh, and another of these comments that are not sent as emails to me, but it's appended to yesterday's piece. Basically it is a big-up for The Monkees and the greatness of their show. You know something, I loved The Monkees when I was a kid, I had at least three of their albums, and some of their singles retain a distinct evocativeness - "Pleasant Valley Sunday", for example. But the vid with Peter Tork in "I'm A Believer" ... I don't know. Still, many thanks to one who keeps the flame burning for The Monkees.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Blur (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrZu_1ppCeI). And the chain question - Neil Diamond wrote "I'm A Believer". Today's title - could be a number of things, but I'm looking for an album by an influential American rock band of the 80s and 90s.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
You're going to have to help me here as I'm struggling. There's nothing wrong with bigging up Mallorca as a place to invest, but what has that got to do with buying a football club? When Abramovic, the Glazers and Gillette and Hicks bought their Premier League clubs, was this because they believed that England was a good place to invest in? No it was not. The geographical location of Chelsea, Manchester United and Liverpool was irrelevant. They were buying football clubs that happened to be in England. Moreover, and this is relevant, football clubs that happened to offer the possibility of making a whole wedge of money, much of it from a cheque signed by the bosses of TV companies and from sales of merchandise to the Chinese who probably made the stuff in the first place, so coals to Newcastle and all that - as Mr. Shepherd will be particularly aware.
There are different motivations for buying football clubs, and making shedloads of dosh is but one of them. Ego and self-aggrandisement can both be found on the list. Many moons ago, I used to deal with the company that was the making of Robert Maxwell, the scientific journal publishers Pergamon. I was once at Pergamon HQ in Oxford, this being at the time that Maxwell was sniffing around Man United. I asked my contact what on Earth Cap'n Bob wanted with buying United. The answer was swift and simple. "He wants to be loved." I suppose there is nothing more egotistical than seeking the fan's love in return for buying his football club. Then there are the serial football entrepreneurs and directors - Peter Ridsdale, Ken Bates, Sam Hamman and now Freddy Shepherd - not all of whom have covered themselves in glory or have been honoured with the fan's undying love.
When Freddy Shepherd says that Real Mallorca has always been his "second team", this may well be the case and good luck to him if he wants to buy the club. But to nuance this as evidence of British confidence in investing in Mallorca per se is, I would submit, stretching the goalposts of mere football business beyond the touchlines. And quite what any of this has to do with the British community, credit crunch or no credit crunch, I am at a loss to explain. It is, perhaps, a simple case of serendipity. Mr. Shepherd spends a fair amount of time in Mallorca, the owner of the club needs to sell in order to pay off debts, and Mr. Shepherd has the proceeds from the sale of his Newcastle shares. All makes good sense, I suppose, but a case of investing in the island? Sorry, but I don't think so.
Oh, and another of these comments that are not sent as emails to me, but it's appended to yesterday's piece. Basically it is a big-up for The Monkees and the greatness of their show. You know something, I loved The Monkees when I was a kid, I had at least three of their albums, and some of their singles retain a distinct evocativeness - "Pleasant Valley Sunday", for example. But the vid with Peter Tork in "I'm A Believer" ... I don't know. Still, many thanks to one who keeps the flame burning for The Monkees.
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Blur (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrZu_1ppCeI). And the chain question - Neil Diamond wrote "I'm A Believer". Today's title - could be a number of things, but I'm looking for an album by an influential American rock band of the 80s and 90s.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
One Born Every Minute
I learned a new word yesterday. "Engañabobos". It's something of a derogatory term. Initially, I didn't know what it meant. It came up when I was chatting with someone about "tarjetas" (cards). It was all a bit lost on me. So I went off and happened to go into Little Britain. By the way, I asked, do you know what "engañabobos" means? They did know, well knew the literal meaning. Cheat and gullible. Now it was becoming clearer. Yes of course. Engañar, yes I did know that after all; I'd spoken to someone only recently and it had come up in the context of Cristiano Ronaldo. Bobos - the sort of word I should have known: idiots, stupid people. And it all really did start to become very much clearer. In English I suppose it might be mug or sucker, perhaps. It's better translated as an expression - "there's one born every minute". There's a Harry Enfield character, the one who sells stuff he's picked up from places like rubbish tips at enormous prices to gullible yuppy types who hand over ever more money or just write out a blank cheque. "I saw you coming" or something close is the name of the sketch; I saw you coming could also be engañabobos.
And what was all this about? Scratch cards. The holiday club scratch cards. Again. I suppose if there is one born every minute, then it's fair game for those doing the promotion, though there is always the "charm" of the sales pitch which can change to abuse and harassment, as I have reported earlier. What has to be borne in mind is that any PR or "tiquetero", call he or she as one may, operates under the same sort of conditions. Commissions depend upon getting the punter or the one born every minute through the doors, so harassment can be part of the game if that's how to earn a crust. And the fact is, notwithstanding the actual status of the scratch-cardists and also whatever the town hall's position on the whole matter, there are presumably sufficient engañabobos to make it all viable. But the harassment is the real objection. If the operation is all perfectly above board then so be it but, as was pointed out on 12 June, if people are subject to abuse and aggression this gives Alcúdia a bad name.
Meantime, the ongoing campaign to create the legend of the star of "The Runaway Train", Dimple Diamond from Derby. The youtube counter has shown a satisfying upward trend, but let's keep it going folks, a kind of Rick-rolling without the Rick and without the rolling. Remember to visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Monkees (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzHtO9quFQc). The video shows just how bad The Monkees' show could be. And a sort of chain question - what's the link from this song to "Sweet Caroline"? Today's title - pretty poor record by which leading exponent of Britpop.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
And what was all this about? Scratch cards. The holiday club scratch cards. Again. I suppose if there is one born every minute, then it's fair game for those doing the promotion, though there is always the "charm" of the sales pitch which can change to abuse and harassment, as I have reported earlier. What has to be borne in mind is that any PR or "tiquetero", call he or she as one may, operates under the same sort of conditions. Commissions depend upon getting the punter or the one born every minute through the doors, so harassment can be part of the game if that's how to earn a crust. And the fact is, notwithstanding the actual status of the scratch-cardists and also whatever the town hall's position on the whole matter, there are presumably sufficient engañabobos to make it all viable. But the harassment is the real objection. If the operation is all perfectly above board then so be it but, as was pointed out on 12 June, if people are subject to abuse and aggression this gives Alcúdia a bad name.
Meantime, the ongoing campaign to create the legend of the star of "The Runaway Train", Dimple Diamond from Derby. The youtube counter has shown a satisfying upward trend, but let's keep it going folks, a kind of Rick-rolling without the Rick and without the rolling. Remember to visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4
QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Monkees (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzHtO9quFQc). The video shows just how bad The Monkees' show could be. And a sort of chain question - what's the link from this song to "Sweet Caroline"? Today's title - pretty poor record by which leading exponent of Britpop.
(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)
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