Heart And Soul

The town of Campos does not feature on this blog as a rule. You wouldn't necessarily expect it to. Campos, for those who don't know, is in the south-east of the island; the municipality includes Sa Rapita in its coastal areas. It is not a town of major tourism; what there is, is relatively low-key, though the municipality can boast what is one of the finest beaches on the island - Es Trenc.

Campos had put forward a plan for a golf development to include a hotel, apartments, swimming pool and tennis courts. The plan was to site this on an area of virgin territory called Son Baco. That was the plan. It has been rejected by the head of the Mallorca Council, the argument being that it was not something needed by the people of Mallorca. The mayor of Campos, Guillem Ginard, has denounced the decision, stating that the situation in Campos is critical in economic and labour terms, that the municipality is never allowed to do anything, and that the development was compatible with a drive towards quality tourism (to include golf) supported by the Unió Mallorquina (UM) party. The mayor is a member of this party, the head of the Mallorca Council represents the socialists. Golf, it should be remembered, is one of the key elements the Mallorca tourism authorities have in mind in promoting new forms of tourism.

This story throws up a whole host of issues. It highlights political divisions; it raises questions as to a commitment to a "different" type of tourism about which one hears so much; it appears to undermine the scope for individual towns to determine their own tourism futures; it raises doubts as to the possibility of using land for any really meaningful future tourism developments; it also highlights the influence of the environmental lobby. It is an important story, and it may also have consequences for the still ongoing debate regarding a similar development - that of the conversion of the Son Bosc finca by Playa de Muro into a golf course.

As far as the Muro course is concerned, I have argued here that it is unnecessary, simply because of the proximity of other courses. The Son Bosc plan has never been about a whole development (of hotel etc.), which was the case with the also rejected plan for a golf course on the Son Real finca next to Can Picafort. There is a question mark as to whether Mallorca does indeed need any more golf courses; there is also a question mark as to whether Mallorca is really a destination of choice for the golfing tourist who has facilities on the mainland and in other countries generally superior to those in Mallorca. But the Campos case is rather different in that it had been conceived as an integrated development that the likes of Portugal have and which do indeed attract a strong golfing tourism. The mere fact of isolated golf courses, such as those in Alcanada or Pollensa (or in Muro), is not a great argument for golf tourism; an integrated development, on the other hand, is. If golf is to be a way forward for the island, then a mix of leisure activities for a wider tourism base is more attractive than a course tucked away for a more exclusive and small-niched clientele.

It is hard to discern exactly from which hymn sheet the politicians are singing. President Antich (socialists) refers to new "attractions"; the UM leader, Miquel Nadal, the tourism minister, is party to the notion of "different" tourism; the godmother of the party, María Antonia Munar, once spoke, in unashamedly elitist terms, about the island being interested only in "wealthy" tourists; Francina Armengol (socialists), leader of the Mallorca council, rejects the Campos development; the mayor of Campos objects; in Muro, different factions have been warring over Son Bosc project. It is not difficult to conclude that, in the case of Sra. Armengol, the protestations of the environmental protest group, GOB, may have had a strong influence. Ginard argues that GOB speaks for a minority, that it has a negative impact on tourism and that, if it wishes to intrude onto the political agenda, it should form its own party. I alluded to such a development on 13 October (Bang Bang, You Shot Me Down), dismissing the idea, as the group would then be forced into becoming "less one-eyed". Sympathetic though I may be to much environmentalism, I am also deeply wary of environmental tyranny, and GOB can be accused of this and of distorting the political process.

When Armengol speaks of the needs of the people of Mallorca, which "people" is she referring to? Not, it would seem, the people of Campos; she accepts that the town does actually want this golf development. Ginard has a beef with what he sees as one rule for one, and one rule for another, by which he means the fact that developments can occur and have occurred elsewhere. Take a map of Mallorca and stick pins onto it that denote the island's attractions, and you will soon see the pattern - the cluster in Palma and its neighbour Calvia, and the sporadic ones in the rest of the island. In the north, Alcúdia can be said to have only one real "attraction" of anything like an important tourism nature - and that is its waterpark. Pollensa has none. Muro, despite the presence of the Albufera nature park, also has none. Perhaps this is why some at the town hall so badly seem to want a golf course.

The Palma- and Calvia-centricity of attractions has led to a disproportionality in tourism distribution and also to the economic benefits that could be derived from greater balance. When one hears calls for the town halls to be more proactive in tourism promotion, one is inclined to ask what would they be promoting. I continue to flatly reject the notion that Mallorca has a future in the various niches of tourism that get bandied about, other than as add-ons. The island's brand, and by extension that of its towns, is tied up with the trappings of mass tourism, and so is the island's future. It is necessary, therefore, to enable the town halls, if they so wish, to pursue developments in line with such a brand. The needs of the people of Mallorca, whether they truly appreciate it or not, or whether Sra. Armengol is willing to believe it, lie with mass tourism; they have for the past 40 years and will continue to do so.

The Campos golf plan may not have been tourism on a grand scale, but it was more in keeping with what one has come to understand is a golf development. But the principle of the development is as much the issue as what it is. Let us assume, for one moment, that, rather than golf, the plan had been for a theme park or a Center Parcs type development. It is doubtful that it would have ever got further than a town hall meeting room. Golf is the default "big idea", but the pursuit of ever more courses is not really what is required. The town halls, though, have become so neutered and deterred by another tyranny - that of golfing, cultural and other niche tourism - that they fall into the trap of "me-too" and groupthink plans. An altogether grander vision and altogether grander schemes are what are called for. And it seems not only to be me who is saying so. What are we to make of the strategy, as mentioned yesterday, by President Antich for more "attractions"? He surely doesn't have the odd golf course in mind; at least one would hope not.

There have been and will be more important stories to emerge this year, but the Campos case is important as it goes to the heart of so many issues, namely what sort of developments are needed, the intransigence of a non-pragmatic environmental lobby, the incoherence of political decision-making and the needs of local communities. It is important because it is a story, not just about a golf course, but also about the future soul of Mallorca - its abstract and its economic soul. It is not a story to be ignored.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Sade (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efdfGeUKXuU). Today's title - the one I'm looking for was by an American group that was big in the '80s.

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Smooth Operators

The positive soundings a few days ago that tourism will help to stave off recession in the Balearics may have been somewhat pre-emptory. Despite the Spanish Secretary of State for Tourism suggesting that there has already been an increase of 20% in sales for the coming year, the tour operators are begging to differ. One is inclined to take their word for it, rather than that which may just be political spin.

Word coming out of the World Travel Market in London this past week has not been reassuring. Thomas Cook is reporting a fall in British tourism sales to Mallorca of 15% (Menorca is worse at 24%), while TUI is giving similarly worrying figures - Mallorca down by 22%. The winter tourism, such as it is, is also taking a knock; the recession-hit German market, for instance, has cut back on its Mallorcan off-season.

The only bright spot in all this is that tourists may well be holding off and hoping for some better deals. There was a thing on "Five Live" the other day which said that TUI, in general, has increased its prices by around 12% while also reducing capacity. That TUI feels it can do this at a time of economic downturn is largely due to the failure of XL, which has taken out some 2 million seats in total. In other sectors where capacity is reduced, prices do not necessarily rise or rise as steeply. The tourism market, however, appears to operate by a different set of rules, and important among these is that, although times are tight, people will forego other purchases in order to ensure they have their two weeks in the sun. The person interviewed on the BBC said that sales were brisk, which may seem to contradict the soundings from TUI and Thomas Cook, but there could still be grounds for optimism in that travellers are taking their time, doing their research and then making the purchase. They may also be hoping that TUI decides that those price increases are not going to work, and are therefore waiting for offers.

While TUI may be hiking its prices, the hoteliers on the island are under great pressure to lower theirs, i.e. what they receive from the tour operators. Naturally enough, there is some resistance to this. But one of the more interesting aspects of this is that the hoteliers are "progressively abandoning" all-inclusive offers because of the "ridiculous" daily returns they receive (quotes from "The Diario"). Maybe the price pressures being applied are going to be good news in one respect - the removal of more all-inclusive places. This all does go to emphasise that it is not necessarily the hotels who are, or who have ever been, the driving force behind all-inclusive offers; it is, and has been, the tour operators. I know, for example, of one hotel in Puerto Alcúdia that basically told TUI to sling its hook when it was presented with a demand to move to all-inclusive. I also know of hotels which are all-inclusive, but which would much rather not be. And when one learns of the sort of amounts the hotels can actually receive from the tour operators, it is little surprise that what they then provide as service as part of the all-inclusive package can be so poor. They're just not making enough money out of it. So when one reads all those comments slagging off this and that hotel, just remember that it may be the tour operator who deserves the criticism and not the hotel.

Meanwhile also at the travel market, Balearic Government head, Francesc Antich, together with the minister for tourism, Miquel Nadal, have been trying to offer their own positive take on things, talking about the "opportunity" that the current difficulties offer. Well, always try and make a positive out of a negative, I guess, but they are banging on about modernisation and renovation, which are all well and good but don't actually address the short-term need. They are also mentioning - yet again - different types of tourism, but without, seemingly, putting any flesh on its scrawny bones. There is, though, one campaign to be implemented in that short-term, and if you happen to live in Manchester you will doubtless become aware of it. This coming spring there will be a programme entitled "Manchester discovers the Balearic Islands". This is presumably not some sort of Columbus expedition but an attempt to inform the good people of Manchester that the Balearics exist. Hmm, yes well, I'll have to mention that to friends of mine from Manchester who come to Mallorca each year.

Elsewhere, Antich has been presiding over the little club that is the Eurorregión Pirineos Mediterráneo (areas around this part of the Mediterranean). This rather curious self-help grouping has had its share of spats in the past, but at least now they seem to be as one in having a common perspective on tourism innovation. To this end, there is to be a centre of research and development based in the Balearics, the aim of which is to come up with "cutting-edge strategy and attractions" (says "The Bulletin"). Well I think we've been here before with all this tourism R&D stuff, whatever it might be. They talk about it but never make it clear what it is exactly. And as for attractions. Good. Just make sure they are large-scale and meaningful.

As an additional thought - the government has spoken, time and time again, about upping the quality of hotels and their service as part of an overall improvement of the islands' tourism offer. However, how can the hotels do this if they are being squeezed and pressurised when it comes to both prices and offering all-inclusive? Against this background, much as the hotels themselves may wish to upgrade and much as the government may harp on about it, it needs to born in mind that the real power in the tourism chain resides not with the hotels, not with the government, but with the tour operators. Ultimately you antagonise the tour operators at your potential peril. Without TUI and Thomas Cook, Mallorca has nothing. The government can do some gentle persuading, but it is largely impotent. It may be a harsh fact for the government to appreciate, but fact it is. Of course, neither TUI nor Thomas Cook would abandon Mallorca; it is far too important to them as well. But the balance of power lies with them. The hotels may be kicking, and good luck to them if they want to cut the all-inclusive, but they, too, must know who holds the whip hand.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Robert Palmer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1S9Or_bEGQI). Today's title - pluralised; in the singular who did this tremendous song?

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Looking For Clues

BEING SPANISH - PART FOUR (THE BAR)

The bar. When we talk of "being Spanish", it is the bar, perhaps more so than any other symbol of the tourist experience, that should typify - or not - what might be meant as being Spanish. It is to the bar to which the tourist feels drawn, as if by instinct. The bar defines holiday, and it is the bar within which the tourist can feel comfort, camaraderie and a collective expression of that holiday. But it is precisely for these reasons that the bar, the chosen bar (or bars), is rarely one that can be classified as being Spanish.

In Barcelona one time, I suggested to a friend of 30 years living there that we and some chums went for a "crawl". The idea was readily accepted, but not that of heading for the Ramblas and the likes of Michael Collins. I was being a tourist. My friend, who claims never to spend more than a euro on a beer, had his own route of bars, all of which would adhere to the description "Spanish". And these bars would be otherwise difficult to describe, except in terms of highly unremarkable, too bright, dull, smoky, and full of Spaniards. So it is here. If one dares to look around or even into a "Spanish" bar, what does one see or rather what does one not see? One does not see the sort of cosiness, the plushness, the intimacy of, say, a British pub (albeit one that is fast dying out). The Spanish bar is uniform in its graceless functionality. There are exceptions, but not many.

The only television programme in Spain worth watching is something called "Cuentame Como Pasó", a better class of soap set in the '70s. In one episode I happened to catch, there were scenes in a bar. I have no reason to assume that it was anything other than authentic. The only obvious difference to today was that the television was not plasma. Spanish bars are caught in a time-warp of Franco-era austerity. In a word, they are unattractive.

The local Spanish bar is, strictly speaking, Mallorcan Spanish, and being full of Mallorcans it is also very noisy because all Mallorcans shout. John, ex-Highlander, once sent me a story about a couple of customers who went to a locals bar and left because of what they perceived as unfriendly shouting. John subsequently rang the bar-owner who told him that there hadn't been a problem, they had just been discussing the weather!

The Spanish bar is intimidating in its sheer ordinariness and also in it actually being Spanish and being full of Spaniards, many of them shouting. The tourist is uncomfortable with such a clear expression of a different culture; it's why most avoid them and would never dream of setting foot in one. Colin, who has been providing me with some highly insightful thoughts on the notion of " being Spanish", refers to "cultural clues" that the tourist can gain. The cultural clues that are emitted from a Spanish bar are not difficult to appreciate, and if these clues suggest something with which the visitor might be uncomfortable, then he or she will not enter.

Of course, there is a difference between day and night, times of the year, days of the week and location. On a market day in summer in old-town Alcúdia, for example, people will of course go to a Spanish bar. They don't have much option. But they can sit outside, and there is security in numbers. Given a choice though, for the most part the tourist would head for the default bar that doesn't look too Spanish. There is another "of course", and that is that there are tourists and there are tourists. It would be quite wrong to suggest that everyone reacts negatively to the cultural clues, and, coincidentally, "culture" is a clue here. Take, for example, the square in Puerto Pollensa, Here, there are two bars diametrically opposite and pretty much diametrically opposed in the eyes of some tourists. Bar (café) Cultural is about as Spanish in the ways I describe above as it can get. Yet in its simplicity it is the counterpoint to Bony which, although also Spanish, is brash, comedic and almost Spanish parodic given José's "olés". It may also have something to do with prices, but that's perhaps by the by; the showy Spanishness of Bony is not to everyone's liking and, for some, they want their being Spanish understated.

But in general, the everyday tourist, your typical Brit, wlll defer to a style and to cultural clues that are more than just clues; they are strong statements. It is not just Britishness which attracts, it is also tribalism, for which there are bars - Canny Lad (Newcastle), Foxes (Leicester), Highlander (Scotland), for instance. There is a need for familiarity and for association. At the top of this piece I referred to those three "c's" - comfort, camaraderie and a collective expression. These are no more evident than in bars where the banter can centre on the football team, the towns or cities back home and also the folks back home. None of this can be obtained in a Spanish bar.

A further dimension in the search for the bar is that of internationalisation. The tourist, as with those who live locally, have, in many cases, bought into a bar transnationalism. How else can one explain the proliferation of Irish bars which, with one or two exceptions, are not Irish? A French neighbour of mine loves O'Hara's in Puerto Pollensa for example. One might expect her to opt for the Spanish bar, but no she revels in the garish opportunism of Grupo Boulevard who have taken this to an extreme state with its Australian Boulevard. But, once again, we come back to those cultural clues, and Irish, even Australian, are familiar statements, more so, one suspects, than Spanishness.

My whole thinking behind this series of features is that elusive concept of "being Spanish" and the fact that one hears an admonishment that things are not Spanish enough. Yet the tourist, overwhelmingly it seems, opts for the familiarity of the non-Spanish. There is an apparent contradiction in all this, but the explanation may lie with something that Colin has offered, and I finish with his observation:

"They (tourists of a mass variety) don’t actually want to see another culture - it is different and as such they don’t feel comfortable with it. They avoid places that feel too foreign, although at the same time bemoaning the fact that the tourist centres as not foreign enough. I don’t think that they are blind to it - they see it all too well, but view it with innate suspicion."


REAL MALLORCA - COMMENT
As most of you will know, I much prefer comments to be posted directly to me. However, an "anonymous" one for yesterday's piece, posted for the comments box, offered the opinion that the press failed to challenge Paul Davidson's claims and to also enquire as to whether he actually had the money to make the bid in the first place. To be fair, I think the Spanish press did at least raise this line of enquiry. How diligently they may have delved into Mr. Davidson's affairs is another matter, but certainly doubts had been circulating in the local media as to his financial capability. However, it should be noted that the press, in the UK at any rate, had said that Mr. Davidson had received 42 million pounds in return for the sale of shares in his company. I think it fair to say, though, that the local press lack the forensic journalistic abilities or resources for an examination of the financial situation.

The comment also suggests that Mr. Davidson was either fronting the whole exercise on behalf of someone else or was engaged in a "charade intended to get him publicity". As to the former, he had always insisted that he, and he alone, would be purchasing the club, and as for the latter, if the publicity was designed to raise his profile in Mallorca or Spain - for whatever reason - then it was an expensive way of going about it, while I reiterate the point - why would he have gone to the lengths he did, including appointing Keith Wyness as a non-exec, just for publicity?

I have yet to be convinced that he was anything other than sincere in his intentions, even if some of the thinking behind the failed takeover seemed somewhat odd.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Pink Floyd. Today's title - Yorkshire-born, sadly passed away, soul and blues singer.

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Piper At The Gates Of Dawn

Never let it be said that things always go swimmingly here. Take yesterday, for example. Flicker, flicker - out. Power. Out. Seven hours. No power. Fantastic. It was a "breakdown" in the system. Yes, I think we gathered that. According to the "Diario", the outage was caused by a lightning strike on the power station in Alcúdia, and this caused a loss of electricity to the whole island, some parts of which had service restored more quickly. The thing is that the storm was not that violent, by Mallorcan standards, and indeed it had eased off when the lights went out.

It's rubbish though really, isn't it. The electricity company, GESA-Endesa, has form. Back in 2003, during that horrendously hot summer, there was an outage that lasted for some twelve hours in some parts of the island (six where I was concerned). They put that down to demand because of air-con systems. Whatever. The company was given a sound metaphorical public thrashing, pants down, by the government and told that under no circumstances must this happen again. Well, what do you know?


Meantime, I couldn't of course let the Real Mallorca story lie. So, with rather more sober an assessment ...

It has ended in the mess some had predicted. Paul Davidson was not prepared to make a ten per cent deposit, and so the deal is off. Grande is talking of seeking compensation.

How did it come to this? Without wishing to boast of any great foresight, I recall saying to someone in the very early days of the Davidson bid that it would end in tears. There was something that was never quite right about the whole thing. The bid seemed to be made almost on a whim, the price was significantly higher than that offered by Freddy Shepherd, the Davidson strategy for branding and recycling through the club's name and in Mallorca, while intriguing, was always questionable in its peculiarity and its vagueness. And why were there no other serious bidders, other than Shepherd with his lower valuation? Was it the price, or is Real Mallorca just simply not a great investment?

One is left to conclude that he was serious in purchasing the club. Why otherwise would he have gone to the lengths of the legal costs he has had to pay and why would he have appointed the former Everton chief executive to the board of his company as a non-exec? Is it all down to a difficulty in raising the money? It would be understandable that his circumstances might have changed over the months of the pursuit of the club which have been coincidental with the full impact of the economic and credit crises. He has himself pointed to the economic conditions. Perhaps he had hoped for some assistance, and his connections to the Middle East and the presence of a sheikh on that same board of directors have not gone uncommented upon. But Mr. Davidson insisted that it would be he, and he alone, who financed any deal.

There are no winners in any of this, only losers - Mr. Davidson, Vicente Grande, the club, the fans, the reputation of British investment and, I'm sorry to have to say, the "Majorca Daily Bulletin". Or maybe there have been some winners - those elements of the Spanish media that cast doubt on the whole deal.

When the Davidson bid first surfaced, it was painted as an indication of the willingness of the British to invest in Mallorca and of the attractions of the island as a place for investment - it could sure do with some hefty foreign investment. The abandonment of the purchase leaves a general British reputation in tatters. The failure to go through with the deal is likely to be taken as evidence that British investors cannot be trusted. It's a harsh conclusion, but not an impossible one. There was hostility to a foreigner buying the club, but a willingness to go along with this if it brought the club stability and success. Now all that is left is a "told-you-so" xenophobia.

Stories like the Davidson saga don't come along often in Mallorca. For The Bulletin it was manna from heaven. Along the tortuous path to the denouement we now have, there were headlines of the "real deal" variety and the eight-page special that greeted the arrangement that has now not been consummated. The paper was generally dismissive of the negativity in the Spanish press, despite legitimate doubts that were being expressed, and as recently as 1 November offered reasons as to why the deal would still proceed. The problem, however, is that there had been an absence of objectivity; it was as though the paper was in thrall to the idea of a British owner and cast aside the sort of balance that the story demanded. The tone of its reporting changed yesterday in light of the collapse of the deal; maybe they realised that, having been a cheerleader, all that was left were boos and having being made to look daft. It had probably been lining up its regular "new dawn" headline to herald the once-and-for-all acquisition. I have one. For Mr. Davidson, the plumber and the man of the piping business - "Piper at the gates of dawn". Except there is no dawn, until, that is, or if the deal is revived. That would seem most unlikely.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Eagles, "Desperado" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umw1-Do3-ho). Today's title - an album by?

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Why Don't You Come To Your Senses?

Curses. I had already penned today's piece, anticipating an end, but no. No end. Whassup? Real Mallorca, friends. Yes, once again, with lack of feeling. Real bloody Mallorca and the so-called plumber. No, he didn't show up to hand over the moolah, and there was no surprise there, but he did send a fax to ask for yet another extension. The great Real Mallorca farce drags on, and on, and on ... Does anyone give a toss any longer? Did they ever? Doubtful. But the panto season has started early. Will he buy it? Oh no, he won't. Oh yes, he will (insert "Bulletin" editorial).

To cut to the chase. Paul Davidson, for the second time, has requested a prolongation of the whole debacle that has become the mooted takeover of Real Mallorca. There are some explanations for this: he still hasn't got the money; he still hasn't constituted the right corporate vehicle for effecting the purchase; he's having a laugh. I leave it to you decide. Personally, I can't see how it can be the third of these, though there are plenty who might believe so - fans, the current owners, various journos, lawyers etc. No, it probably is still his intention to buy this stupid club. God knows why, but that's another issue.

The thing is, though, that if he does finally part with the money, the whole process, the whole pantomime, has seriously undermined him in the eyes of the people who matter, e.g. the fans and a highly sceptical Spanish media. Forget the Bulletin, it's the locals that need charming not a few nutty expats who turn up to watch an average team, and for reasons best known to them. Whatever goodwill may have been extended to him is fast evaporating, if it hasn't already. And many will doubt that, if the sale does go through, there will be loads of readies available for the team's development. If it's so problematic to buy the club, what does this say for the future?

The real sadness of all this is that Vicente Grande is likely to go along with it, albeit that he wants a deposit as a declaration of some sort of goodwill. Of course he does. No one else is willing to hand over close on 40 million euros for a club that doesn't even own its own ground. Grande's desperate - desperado - and one suspects that the other party knows this.

I am, to be honest, hacked off with the whole thing, mainly because I had crafted a hugely intelligent piece for today that I can now not use. And I had been next door to sample some glasses of vino tinto before I saw the news. I shouldn't write when under the influence, but I've got a blog to do, so that's why I'm hacked off. But why don't I include a bit from what I would have written? It refers to a commentator in "The Diario" who says, about the whole fiasco "that he can be included among the other journalists, 'administrators, jurists, lawyers, bankers and creditors' who have been made to look foolish".

The end.


Anyway, Plan B, folks. Don't for one moment think that a mere hiccup in the complex and absurd world of Real Mallorca can deter me from some other story of massive import. First rule of editorial. Always have another story up your sleeve or sitting on your desktop. So here goes ...

Remember that film with Steve McQueen. "Bullitt." The one with the car chase through the streets of San Francisco. Well, they tried a re-enactment - of sorts - through the streets of Alcúdia the other day and also along the motorways of Mallorca. To be honest, it shouldn't be much of a story, but given that locally "dog bites man" passes for headlines, it is. So, the story is that some lunatic Colombian hammered along the motorway from Palma and then around Alcúdia in a Volvo at some 200 kilometres an hour, whilst a couple of boys from the Guardia in a 4x4 were in hot pursuit. And hot it was, because there has been many a column inch devoted to the state that the Guardia's engine was getting into. Which does rather beg a question, but let's not go into that. But the nutter in the Volvo finally made his way up to La Victoria before hurtling off the mountainside in what turned out to be a vain attempt at suicide. He was detained for psychiatric reports, whilst the Guardia fellows were being heralded as "heroes". For what? Presumably because they were in charge of an overheating Nissan X-Trail. 200 kilometres an hour. Have they never driven on a German autobahn?

Mind you, hurtling around the streets of Alcúdia would have been some sport to watch. I have searched youtube, but am unable to find any blurry mobile footage of the chase. Shame. It would have all been worthwhile.

Normal service will, may, resume tomorrow.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Cream, "Sunshine Of Your Love" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FI8SUc2SV4k). Today's title - the title's in the article.

Oh, and here's the car chase from "Bullitt" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMc2RdFuOxI

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I've Been Waiting So Long

The fiestas and fairs of Mallorca are often the signal for the appearance of "giants", the peculiar models that often have an air of American Amish or puritan about their appearance. There is another type of giantism. It was on display at the fair in Muro at the weekend and will be at the prestigious "Dijous Bo" fair in Inca tomorrow (Thursday). In Muro there were giant pumpkins; indeed the fair itself was dedicated to the pumpkin (they do some strange things here, that's for sure). The winner of the competition to find the largest pumpkin had one that weighed in at 93.5 kilos. That's a whole lot of pumpkin, but with so much of it knocking around, the local restaurants were able to prepare dishes of a pumpkin nature. So if you don't like pumpkin, best to give the annual Muro fair a miss. This was the second year that the pumpkin had taken pride of place, and doubtless there will be the hat-trick next year.

If, on the other hand, you prefer something comprising sugar and fat then the Dijous Bo gig will be just the event for you. There will be one huge great ensaimada to feast your eyes on and presumably also to feast on. It will be some 15 metres in diameter. 15 metres in diameter of something that will do you no good. It is a curiosity that for all that healthy Mediterranean diet that one is supposed to enjoy here, there is a local delicacy as junk as the ensaimada. And they make such a big deal of something as dull and unhealthy as it is. If you have not sampled an ensaimada, my advice is don't bother. Just look at it - all 15 metres in diameter of it.


It is how long, a year, since the Alcúdia hospital closed? It may not have been perfect, but there were procedures that it was very good at. Take the simple one of having a blood test. Since Alcúdia closed, those of us who fork out for the not especially expensive private medical insurance that is available here, go to the hospital in Playa de Muro. Just up the road, for me at any rate. Shouldn't be a problem, but then there is this business with the blood test.

At Alcúdia, it was the case that you pitched up before ten in the morning and handed in the form at the main reception. The nurse, who was in a room more or less opposite the reception, would come and collect the forms of the patients as they had been presented, i.e. in order of arrival. Not that there were ever that many patients. You might wait ten minutes and ... you might feel a bit of a prick, sir (not that they say that here of course), apply a plaster and now get out. Very simple and very orderly.

Contrast this with the Muro hospital. Go to reception, and you are instructed to head off downstairs. There, there are numerous people milling around, some standing, some sitting. You head to the laboratory reception and a kindly Mallorcan woman who speaks perfect English stops you and says that the chap will come out and collect your papers and that there are these other people before you. (You realise that many of those milling around, including the Mallorcan lady, have already had a visitation from the chap and that they are, therefore, all before you.) You thank her and go and stand around for some twenty minutes, trying to ignore a child who is staring at you, during which time more people turn up and are told what is happening by this Mallorcan lady patient. You see, it's not just stupid Brits who have no clue, no one has a clue. Then the chap appears and of course everyone who is in the second wave of chap-visitation rushes towards him. You calculate that you should be third in the queue, and so you push yourself into that position - with success; that Mallorcan lady has told all those after you the same thing, so they do at least have an inkling as to where they should be in the non-existent order of things. Then you sit down, and sit down next to a gentleman from Puerto Pollensa who you have overheard talking to that same helpful Mallorcan lady and who you heard mention the fact that he was from Woking. And so you talk to him as Woking used to once be part of your manor. He says that really it would be just as easy going to the national health hospital in Inca, this is all chaotic. You agree, there is no system. You sit, and sit, and among the patients before you are one and then a second family with a young child. The first child screams the place down from inside the laboratory. It goes on for an intolerably long time. What on earth are they doing to him? He finally emerges red-faced and red-eyed, and everyone looks at the poor little mite who was the same one that had been staring at you. And then the second family, and the boy screams his head off for an intolerably long time. A third family, who are to come after you, sit there, and their little girl stares towards where the screams are coming from. And eventually it is your turn, and it takes all of a minute and it is done. But you have waited an hour and a half and reckon that maybe it might indeed be better to just go to the national health hospital in future instead and also to reckon that Clinica Juaneda, the operators of both Alcúdia and Muro hospitals, have cut their service levels since closing the Alcúdia branch. That wait though. Enough to make you scream.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Fifth Dimension, "Wedding Bell Blues" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkMhWQgkZ8c). Today's title - a line from a mega blues trio; lick your lips, kitty - it's warm.

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Am I Ever Gonna See My Wedding Day?

BEING SPANISH - PART THREE

Take a look along a street or at a row of houses or other buildings, and one - it might be hoped - would gain an appreciation as to one's location, albeit a very general location. It might be a good idea for some form of general knowledge quiz. Show the contestants photos of representative streets, and get them to name the country or the area. I wonder how many might get Spanish if they were to be shown some of the streets or buildings around here.

When the tourist is first deposited in one of the tourism centres, let's take The Mile as an example, what does he or she see? That expectation that some may have had of being Spanish would soon dissipate. What being Spanish is there? Only the Spanish word - nada - nothing. Tourism centres are built with one thing in mind and that's the first word of this sentence - tourism - and these centres tend to a conformity of the non-descript. They are, in some respects, comforting, as in their architectural barrenness they aspire to nothing more than a neutrality; the tourist feels no sense of dislocation by being jettisoned into a habitat of non-architecture. They are mass architecture for a mass tourism. Yet some centres could even be described as anti-architecture; they have elevated the art of a miserabilist prefabrication, combined with naked and unsympathetic commerce, into a state of anti-being Spanish which means that verification as to location can only be made through the consultation of a map or the airline ticket that confirms that one is indeed no longer in one's country of origin. Such anti-architecture exists all around, and it is not unique to one resort: Can Picafort has it in abundance; Playa de Muro boasts its hideous strip from the municipal office to the Banca March roundabout: the stretch going into the port of Alcúdia is also unit-upon-unit of unintelligent design as is that part of the frontline of Puerto Pollensa from the nautical club to Sail & Surf. Nowhere is immune to the appetite of anti-architecture.

But in truth, what does one really expect? These tourism centres are, for the most part, creations with only one thing in mind, and they are manifestations of a modernity that went largely unplanned. Moreover, these are not historic or heritage centres where conformity to a style is the first item on the planning application. Consequently, the tourism centre's sense of "being Spanish" can be said to be indeed Spanish because of its essentially ad-hoc nature. It may not be what some vague romantic image, conjured up in the mind of the tourist, may have anticipated, but it is a form of being Spanish nevertheless, albeit an equivocal one.

One looks, however, to the old towns and to the port areas for hints of something more exact. Yet what does one find? It is all too easy to overlook the fact that both the ports and both the old towns of Alcúdia and Pollensa are places not just of tourism but also of residence and business. This trinity of needs has not been well reconciled, and nowhere is evidence of this more startling than in Puerto Pollensa. There is a curious tag that gets attached to Puerto Pollensa which is that it is unspoilt or relatively unspoilt. There is no such thing as unspoilt unless there is no habitation; there is only degree of having been spoiled. But the unspoilt tag is perhaps illuminating; it is being Spanish euphemism. And so one casts one eye around Puerto Pollensa and what is revealed is a largely arbitrary set of apartments with no commonality, among which is the chic white and grey blandness of Taylor Woodrow's construction on the former Garbi hole. Where is this "being Spanish"? There is elegance, for sure; the marina has it, but not as much as Alcúdia's does. But neither marina can be defined as Spanish. If elegance is a facet of being Spanish, ironically the Taylor Woodrow building is arguably, despite its having been built without any sense of context, one of the few in Puerto Pollensa that can be said to possess it. The quaintness of old hotels in the centre of the port, unlike Alcúdia in this respect, smacks of a past, but it does not suggest Spanish as such. It is only when one gets to the square that one feels the stirrings of this vague concept, and it is the church that does it. Squares, in themselves, are not redolent of a uniquely Spanish style. Nor are churches especially, but the imposing style of Catholic churches and their positions in the centres of urban areas are a move in that direction. Puerto Pollensa does this much better than Puerto Alcúdia where there is no square and a church that one could be forgiven for ignoring. I used to. Indeed when I was first there and was told that such and such was near to the church, my reaction was what church. It was only when one day in its vicinity I heard the bells that I realised that the building which could pass for a community hall in a British council estate was indeed a church.

Amongst the non- and anti-architecture, it is the grand statements of religion that cause one to pause and recognise a being Spanish. Of course, such churches exist elsewhere in the Mediterranean as do the narrow streets of tightly built townhouses with shuttered windows, but it is they, and they alone, which impress with their strength and scale and argue the case for a being Spanish. And Pollensa old town does this with brilliance. The connections between the churches, along those narrow streets and from one square to another transport one into a clearly different place. In an architectural antiquity fashion, nowhere tries being Spanish better than Pollensa.


GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING
And talking of churches ... . This past weekend has seen the fifteenth annual wedding fair in Palma. Here is a strange old thing, not weddings, but the degree of interest there is in having a wedding in Mallorca; it is one of the things I get asked about from time to time, i.e. in terms of those from the UK who wish to have their wedding here. And the problem is, I don't really have a clue. I thought that one had to be a resident to have a church wedding, and this may be the case, but there is a whole industry here that arranges weddings in whatever setting. Also, there are restaurants that promote themselves as wedding breakfast locations, the splendid Jardin in Puerto Alcúdia for example. The "boda" is a massive deal here, as it is anywhere.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Bill Withers (http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x28wpt_bill-withers-lovely-day-live_music). Today's title - a line from a cheesy but still great song. Who?

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Lovely Day

It dawned a lovely day. The mist of this November morning was the mist of an English Indian summer postponed for a month or so; summer in winter arrives later here and lingers much longer. The chill of the early morning, though, gives rise to uncertainty. What to wear exactly? A sweater or sweatshirt definitely, but a coat, too? And how might it be in the café? Interiors everywhere soon lose any of that heat of summertime.

So on a Sunday morning - wintertime and the living is easy - I intend to meet Jake from the El Laberinto maze at Café Dallas in Playa de Muro. It's about the only place you will find open. Except it's closed, as it's Sunday. We head off to Puerto Alcúdia and to Kroxan. Jake was raised in the Balearics. I'd never given the meaning of the café's name any attention. He had not been before. A Mallorcan corruption of croissant, he'll be bound. It could be. I'd only thought of it in terms of a Police song - "Kroxan, you don't have to wear that dress tonight".

Every post-season, it seems, Jake and I meet for a coffee and develop ideas for something or other. These something or others have been variously grandiose or small beer. What they have in common is that they remain ideas. It's the problem when someone has a hundred ideas a minute as does Jake. But among other things, I mention that association, the one of British and Irish businesses and residents, and say the organisers are interested in contacts in Menorca. Of course there are far fewer expats actually in Menorca, but a point he makes is interesting - that, apart from the retired expats, the Menorca-based Brits tend to all be a part of the community. Maybe it's just because there are fewer of them in Menorca, but by comparison many Brits in Mallorca live in a bubble, a bubble of, I suppose you could call it, expatishness. A bubble. I'd never thought of it like that, but it's a good description. Coming from a Menorquín Brit with a business in both Mallorca and Menorca, it had a degree of authority.

There are those, like Jake, who, because they have grown up here, are difficult to categorise. They are British, but not. They are totally integrated in that the languages pose no barriers and nor do the social mores. They can see Mallorca and the Mallorcans as it is and as they are, without a certain jaundiced, unappreciative perspective or, on the other hand, one that is so gushing as to ignore the differences that exist. But the fact that Mallorca has a relatively large expatriate population, whereas Menorca does not, does tend to emphasise a point I have made before; that the very existence of that relatively large population makes it easy to sidestep a more complete embracing of the local community and its society. Fewer other expats means there is more incentive to do otherwise. It's an obvious point, I guess, but it is still a pertinent aspect of the non-socialisation of many an expatriate who shrouds him or herself in a bubble of Britishness.


After the coffee on this lovely day, it was back to the terrace. Wintertime and the living is easy. The sun is now very warm. It's heading towards the middle of November, and what is the temperature? Twenty degrees? Feels like it's higher. Reading the papers. First the sweatshirt is discarded. A couple of minutes later, it's no good, off come the trainers and socks. A couple more minutes, you give up; and it's down to just shorts once again. There seems something absurd about this. Nip inside and the house is like an ice-box, and yet why would you put on any heating when it's summer outside? I've been thinking of establishing a lounge on the terrace, but then there would be the problem of when it chucks it down and the terrace roof leaks.

But sitting on the terrace, reading the papers, some things come and join you. Flies. The flies want to read the football reports as well. Either they come and crawl over Arsenal versus Man U or sit on your head or try and get into your ear. Flies can make a lovely day, wintertime and the living less easy, as can the mosquitoes that take to coming out in the afternoons. And then, what's that? It's a full-on great big bumble bee. It's a shock to see one. Bumble bees and wasps you hardly ever encounter. There was this thing a few days ago about a "plague" of bees in a street in Inca, which turned out to be the result of a colony kept by one of the neighbours. Bees tend to confine themselves to the countryside, so it said in the newspaper report. Maybe that's why you tend not to see them around much. But with all the plantlife in gardens it is surprising. And bees are apparently in danger. We should all be worried. Vince Cable, he of the two brains of the Liberal Democrats, raised the matter a while ago in the House of Commons. Remarkable man, Cable. Not only can he, at a stroke, prescribe solutions for the world's economy, he can probably also recite the complete works of Shakespeare backwards and carry a torch for the humble bee, and he does this seemingly very green Liberal Democrat thing without sporting a beard or sandals - in the House at any rate. The point is though that we are running out of bees. And their reduced numbers threaten the entire world's eco-system. Not enough pollination, you see. So bees, do come and join the flies in reading the papers. Maybe the flies will piss off if you are around as well. And the more you are around, the more it will still be a lovely day, and the more wintertime and the living will be easy.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - "Sister Ray" by Velvet Underground and also Joy Division (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdlcNt2lR_o). Today's title - "when I wake up in the morning, love ..."

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You Shouldn't Do That

The tourism authorities have announced the figures of their annual cull of illegal holiday rentals on the islands. They are up, quite significantly so; perhaps all that trawling through websites in search of unregistered holiday accommodation has borne some fruit after all. There is nothing wrong with the authorities clamping down on this. It is not just undeclared income that is an issue, there are also those of safety, insurance and quality. However, there is another side to this, and that is how easy it may or may not be for owners to get the correct registration in the first place. And then there has also been some considerable confusion as to what regulations apply to which properties. This was meant to have been clarified this year, in that apartments were specifically referred to, as opposed to stand-alone houses and villas.

Whatever the legalities, there remains the suspicion that much of the drive to regulate holiday lets, which may mean a reduction in their offer, has come from the hoteliers. There have, for example, been the odd pronouncements that Mallorca's future lies with a high quality of hotel accommodation, which undoubtedly is correct, however the private rental sector tends to be overlooked, except when it comes to hammering it with regulation. But there is a contradiction here in that the increase in the do-it-yourself holiday, facilitated by the ease of airline bookings, has also led to an increased demand for rental property. Moreover, this market tends to be precisely the sort of market that the island appears to crave, i.e. it is one with a fair amount of spare dosh sloshing around to be spent in the island's economy. There are also plenty of holidaymakers who want the flexibility to be able to choose their preferred type of accommodation, and many simply do not want to stay in hotels, whatever the hoteliers might wish.

This all said, it is not as if the hotels themselves do not get inspected. The season just finished has seen the tourist authorities taking an interest in all-inclusive offers. They report that the number of exclusive all-inclusive hotels in the Balearics has increased slightly, whilst the number of those hotels which offer AI as an option has gone down. But that is all that they report. What one hears as a complaint is the degree to which holidaymakers, on arrival, are then made an offer of all-inclusive board; illegally, or so the complaint goes - I'm unclear on this. For the holidaymaker, it can seem a good deal. A relatively low daily rate of twelve or fourteen euros let's say, and everything they want - up to a point. The problem is what the holidaymaker then gets, and we are back to the issue of the actual quality of the AI offer in many instances - low-grade food and drink and slow service.


ROSS AND BRAND
As everyone and his dog has said his or her say about the Ross-Brand affair, I thought, well, why don't I. This may not sound a blog issue, but there are two aspects as to why it is. Firstly, there is the BBC angle. Take it from me, when one lives here, one really appreciates the BBC. Having largely foregone television, there is but radio, and BBC's internet radio, even without the overseas streaming for some sporting events, is an endless source of wonder. They should charge an overseas licence; I'd pay it, no problem. Secondly, there has been here the inevitable parroting of the opprobrium that has rained down on the heads of Messrs Ross and Brand and the BBC, our old mate Leapy Lee included in the critics. I wonder in all this, though, how many people actually heard the broadcast when it originally went out. Not on youtube after the event, by which stage prejudices had been established, but at the time. I was one who did, and I listened precisely because I knew the combination of the two was likely to get very "edgy"; and that of course was what happened. It was surrealistically funny in that someone of such minor celebrity as Andrew Sachs should be the point of what did get out of hand. With hindsight of course it shouldn't have been broadcast, but, apart from the "suicide" reference, which did take me aback, I personally wasn't offended by it.

But why should this whole affair matter to expats who no longer live in the UK? It ranks alongside all the other news and events from the UK as being more important than anything that occurs in Mallorca, be these to do with the British government, the NHS, education, the "broken society", sports teams or the BBC. It comes back, I suppose, to what I've said before about integration, or the lack thereof, and the pervasiveness and convenience of the media. Ross and Brand are as significant in their relative insignificance to the expat in Spain as they are to his or her relatives and friends back in the shires of England and in the rest of the UK.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Mari Wilson (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWFPqGLbVa0). Today's title - from a song about transvestitism; originally by an iconic American band and covered by an iconic Manchester band.

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Just What I've Always Wanted

BEING SPANISH - PART TWO

"It's not very Spanish." "We were wanting something a bit more Spanish." "It was more Spanish than elsewhere; just what we wanted."

Three not untypical statements, all part of the same peseta as it were, as to use euro in a metaphorical sense would hardly equate to an expression of something "Spanish". There again, perhaps the arrival of the euro has created a uniformity not just in currency but also in appearance and even atmosphere.

What is Spanish? I started the discussion on Thursday, and here is the second part.

Let us put ourselves in the trainers, sandals or Crocs of the tourist checking-in at Luton or East Midlands. What are they expecting to find? Insofar as any of them have a perception of or expectation of "being Spanish", what might it be? Colin, in responding to the piece of 6 November, suggests that this equates predominantly to "the Costas and the Balearics", and this, in turn, leads to a specific notion - that of the typical tourism image of sun, sea, sand and sangria. Only one of these - sangria - can be classified as being in any way identifiably Spanish. The rest of that perception is probably that of bar, pool, beer, meat, chips and a hotel room.

A while back I asked a local British bar-owner, Jamie at Foxes, what he thought was Spanish. There were some more s-words: sombreros and straw donkeys. It was an hilarious and far from inaccurate summation. Add the bullfight and matadors, and you arrive at a sort-of common denominator Spanishness, that of certain imagery and, in some cases, parody, something that extends to the language. For those unfamiliar with Spanish, their few words might well have been culled from Westerns or they will be the "qué" of Manuel or the Spanglish "scorchio" of Paul Whitehouse.

Yet not everyone has the same impression. There will be those who hold to an image moulded by architecture and art, streets and squares, landscapes, music, food and eating-out, nature, language, history, traditions and people. It is really in all of these that one has to search for being Spanish; all these and then a certain abstractness of difference, one founded on a Spanish or Mallorcan character and culture - a way of doings things if you like.

The other day I painted a picture of one place - Can Picafort - in which it is difficult to discern an identifiable Spanishness. Yet there is a mitigating factor, and it is one of modernity. Can Picafort is new town resort. Even down to its grid road system, it is a Milton Keynes of Mediterranean homogeneity; its location in Mallorca is a mere geographical convenience. But it is far from the only part of the island that is non-specific. Travel the few kilometres along the main road to Alcúdia, and one comes across The Mile. It is precisely the holiday ghettoes of The Mile and Can Picafort that form the holiday experience for most. These are the chosen resorts; the ones chosen by the planners and the tour operators, the ones cloned and internationalised from a template named mass tourism and the package holiday. Despite the person who found Can Picafort to be "Spanish", the chances of stumbling across Spanishness are remote, whatever that intangible pre-conceived notion might be.

However, perhaps one is going down the wrong line in excluding these resorts from a being-Spanish taxonomy. They are the product of the import of culture and the standardisation of hotel edifice, and through their permanence and prevalence they become Spanish. Being there begets being Spanish. One can witness the globalisation of architecture and commerce not just in Mallorca but in almost anywhere one chooses. That the hotel companies of Can Picafort and The Mile may be Mallorcan and Spanish is neither here nor there. They, together with the non-Spanish tour operators, have moulded a being Spanish for today, a one size fits all tourism with the odd local token. And the tourist, for the most part, has bought into this as well, the most extreme expression of this being the all-inclusive - a concentration camp of geographical indeterminacy. It could be anywhere and so could the tourist for all that he or she is aware of the outside world.

It is with this in mind perhaps that the tourist authorities place an increasing emphasis on a Mallorcan culture, heritage and landscape. Is there an admission of guilt in now wishing to promote this? These same tourist authorities have permitted the uniform internationalisation of being Spanish and being Mallorcan. Now they want a lost and being lost Spain and Mallorca to be rediscovered. They are not wrong in wanting to do so. Even if one categorises tourism as some form of take it or leave it indifference for a lumpenproletariat, people still crave an authenticity, a being Spanish of greater romantic presence. There are those who find a being Spanish that is what they always wanted. And it is that which I shall try and locate in subsequent pieces.

For the meantime, any more feedback as to your notions of being Spanish will be most welcome and will always receive a personal response. Thanks to those who have done so.


As a sort of aside, the other day in the local Eroski supermarket, I became aware of the music being played. Spanish? No. It was The Manic Street Preachers. How does that all work do you suppose? Why would you have the Manics accompanying you on a trip around a Spanish supermarket? Anyone any clues? Or are there some extreme examples of strange Spanish supermarket music? Mark E. Smith and The Fall perhaps? Captain Beefheart at his Trout Mask most oddball maybe?


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The fabs (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RaNQjhXhfVs). Today's title - beehive, some fifteen years before Amy made it fab gear.

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Norwegian Wood

The unemployment figures around the various municipalities in Mallorca make for pretty grim reading. The highest increase for October, compared with the same month last year, has been in Estellencs which has registered an increase of 160%. All things are relative of course, and Estellencs is hardly that big a place, but areas that are strong tourism centres have seen rather better figures, if, that is, one can call increases of 47% (Pollensa) and 54% (Alcúdia) as being much better. Nearby Sa Pobla has seen unemployment rise by over 75%, yet the small municipality of Búger has witnessed only a 3 per cent increase (33 as opposed to 32 last year being out of work).

Looking again at the queues in Puerto Alcúdia yesterday, one wonders what these figures will look like for November. It is not a great situation.

Still, there is always something to look forward to that will make everyone's lives that much brighter. And what could be better in achieving this than a bit of Nordic walking. Well, quite a lot probably, but in Alcúdia fans of this curious past-time will now be able to enjoy three different routes, much of them in woodland and forest - in Barcares, La Victoria and the other around Coll Baix. For those who may not yet be up to speed, or down to slowness, with Nordic walking, it is walking with poles in the style of Nordic skiing but without skis and without snow. The real benefit from Nordic walking lies with its being tackled as an aerobic sport, i.e. putting your back into it and making an effort, otherwise it is just, well, walking with a couple of sticks. And walking with a couple of wooden sticks is how one sees it often being practised. Germans of advanced years are regularly to be heard on the streets near me, click-clacking along at a slow speed of Nordic knots. This really is not how to do it. You may as well just walk and forget the sticks. That a way, you wouldn't look quite so ridiculous. And this is one of the problems with Nordic walking; it looks daft. Anything that takes walking and turns it into a sport makes the otherwise straightforward act of one foot in front of another an object of derision - like the walks of Olympic athletics infamy, buttocks raised by the left and then by the right and feet often not staying in contact with the ground. Why not just run?

Anyway, I guess the hope is that these Nordic routes will attract great hordes of stick-bearing tourists. Alcúdia's mayor, Miquel Ferrer (as reported by "The Diario") has entered into a collaboration with the island's tourist authorities for promoting the town as a centre of Nordic walking. There is something to be said for having mates in slightly higher places. Ferrer is second-in-command in the Unió Mallorquina party to Miquel Nadal. And who is head of tourism? Yes, Miquel Nadal. To be fair, this is the culmination of a drive to make Alcúdia a place of Nordic walking wonder - it was, for example, included in the past summer's programme of sporting events in the town - so the fact that Nadal has got the gig as tourism minister is really only a coincidence. There is also the hiking route that links Coll Baix and La Victoria, of which the Nordic routes may be a part or the same; the hiking route referred to back on 7 July (Walking Back To Happiness).

But assuming that this initiative does result in some additional form of tourism, how wide might the benefits be? There is something of the cycling tourism about all this; the cycling tourism that many criticise for not helping local bars and restaurants. This is a fallacy. Cycling tourism can work very well to the advantage of bars and restaurants if they forge strong relationships with the cyclists and their organisers, as is the case with Restaurant Boy in Playa de Muro. The Nordic walkers though will be hacking around parts of Alcúdia where there is barely a watering-hole or hostelry to be found. Red Rum in Barcares or the Mirador in La Victoria may be beneficiaries but that would be about your lot.


Mallorca is not that big an island, and it can seem surprising that it can give rise to very localised weather events. During Tuesday night and into Wednesday there was an intense storm that affected Palma in particular. This is not the first time in the past month or so that Palma seems to have got it in the neck while other parts of the island have not. In the north there was nothing of this storm. And when Palma had an earlier heavy dose, nearby places like Magaluf were calm. There are, of course, all-island weather bouts, and one's impression has tended to be that the north gets the worst of the weather. But this has certainly not been the case just recently. The one part of the island that does seem to escape the worst is the east. The storm of Tuesday night did hit it, but whereas Palma was inundated with some 50 litres of rain, Porto Colom had only seven. It may be a wrong impression, but if you want to avoid the weather at its worst, then head east.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Ian Dury And The Blockheads. No live-performance youtube, but there is one with Phil Jupitus taking the Dury role (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ylvcU3iuUY). Today's title - no clues needed.

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Reasons To Be Cheerful - Part One

Despite the prospect of Spain entering into recession in 2009, there are reasons to believe that the Balearics will not be joining the rest of the country. Surprising though this might sound, latest figures and prognostications indicate that the islands will have experienced growth of just under 3 per cent this year, with an anticipated growth next year of just under 1 per cent. It wouldn't be much, but equally it would not represent recession. Moreover, the situation is not felt to be anything quite as bad as the last great crisis - between 1991 and 1993. The major casualty of the economic downturn has been, as we all know, construction, but it is tourism which is holding things together. It may also come as a surprise to learn that this year has witnessed an increase in hotel takings and in tourism spend. At least that is what the government is saying. There are probably many who would disagree. Although instinct suggests that the coming year could be problematic for tourism, and could blow apart that forecast for slight growth, indications are that things could be better than might have been anticipated. It does all remain to be seen, especially if recession bites as deep as it is expected to in the UK and, to a lesser extent, in Spain itself, thus harming UK and Spanish tourism. But for the moment, there is some reason to be cautiously optimistic. And that's no bad thing, rather than constantly talking ourselves into recession and sheer pessimism.


BEING SPANISH - PART ONE
For quite some time I have been mulling over the meaning of "being Spanish" in the sense of what constitutes being Spanish - be it bar, restaurant, resort, architecture, landscape and quite probably more besides. This was all inspired by comments one finds - from tourists - that such-and-such a restaurant or so-and-so a place is either Spanish, a bit Spanish or not Spanish at all. I'd love to know what they mean, because, hard though I try, I'm damned if I know what constitutes "being Spanish". Not of course that it will stop me from having a go.

One of those comments referred to Can Picafort. For those of you unfamiliar with the resort, let me give you an impression. It is everyman resort. Largely without character, it is chock-full of hotels and, in the main part of the resort, laid out according to a grid system of roads. It is the criss-cross resort. The Son Bauló part, on the other hand, is mainly a circle. Looked at on a map, Son Bauló is like a football being kicked by the long leg of Can Picafort - a sort of Italy and Sicily turned horizontal. The two parts are joined by a section of non-descript streets with similarly non-descript houses, while the leg and football are held in place by a long, straight stick which is the main road from Alcúdia to Artà, to either side of which are more hotels, supermarkets and petrol stations. The promenade is populated with repetitious barns of restaurants. The sand in winter encroaches onto the promenade, and the impression is of a seafront not totally unlike something one might find in Britain. The marina, compared with the more luxury end of the market in Alcúdia, is a disappointment of semi-neglect. To one side of it, there is a watchtower which stands in the midst of green seaweed, deposited by the occasional turbulent waves. The whole resort was basically built from scratch. There is little that remains of a Can Picafort heritage, not in truth that it ever had one as the place itself has a history far shorter than the nearby ports of Alcúdia or Pollensa.

It was a surprise, therefore, when I read someone who described Can Picafort as being Spanish. By what criteria could it possibly be so, especially its frontline with the tired appearance of a British seaside resort? It is in Spain, but otherwise? There is but one part that hints at this elusive concept of Spanishness, and that is the Santa Eulália avenue that runs along the back of the town. It houses the two Viva hotel complexes which, unlike the obtrusive hotels dotted all over the centre of the resort, are set back in an attractive residential area that combines the shades of Mallorcan architecture - the terracottas and the yellows - with a quasi-Arabic style of handed-down Spanish house-building. But even this is phoney because of its modernity; a developer's dream of recaptured Spain which can descend into a parody akin to mock Tudor facades in England that aspire to historical context but are too often design by naffness. Drive along the avenue and it is pleasant enough until one turns back down to the main road and is assaulted by what appears to be the local housing project of apartment block with the washing out. It isn't a project, just the white tower of the back of the Tonga Sol with towels draped from every balcony. And as one leaves Can Picafort, heading towards Alcúdia, there is the bizarre enclave of Ses Casetes des Capellans with its vacation homes little more than beach huts which I have previously compared with Jaywick Sands. These huts reach into the forest and dunes of Playa de Muro, a forest of pines, themselves a feature of a natural world to be discovered all over Europe. One searches for the essence of Spanishness in Can Pic, only because someone has said that it has it, but the search is fruitless. And so one must look elsewhere. Till next time ...


PLEASE - What are your notions of "being Spanish"? It can be anything you like. Email me, as below. I'd be delighted to hear your views and perhaps use them in follow-up features. As always, any email correspondence is treated with respect, so your details are never reproduced here. Thanks.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Kylie (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0G-4HBYihU). Today's title - well it was actually part three; who was it?

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Never Too Late

When in the past I have bemoaned the fact that publicity for local events is not produced in English, or in some cases even Spanish, there has at least been some publicity. This weekend is the Pollensa fair which itself has previously given rise to elaborate and ludicrously expensive publicity material. But as of Monday there was none to be found, save a poster that had appeared - on Monday. Only yesterday did something appear on the town hall's website over and above the announcement that the fair starts on Friday and runs until Monday. The fact is that the fair occurs at the same time each year; the same weekend. So knowing that it was taking place was the least of it. It was the schedule of events that had been lacking, and then, when it was no longer lacking, there it was - only in Catalan.

Compare this with Alcúdia and its fair which took place at the start of October. The programme for this was available fully two weeks in advance. It was abundant time for a full English version to be done, which was then given out from the tourist offices (which I prepared). Now, there is something to be said for not producing elaborate publicity material for what are, essentially, the same events every year insofar as much of what happens is very similar. Indeed I have suggested that sheets of photocopied A4 are just as useful, and far less expensive, than the ultra design of heavy art paper brochures that get produced. But there hadn't even been any sheets of A4. One might think that the town hall is seeing sense and saving a bit of dosh, but chances are that a brochure will appear or has now put in an appearance. Anyway, just to reiterate - Pollensa fair runs from Friday to Monday, with the Saturday and Sunday being the main days, with Sunday the really big day. And it will feature, amongst other things, crafts, children's do's, a bit of music and dance and lots of people milling around. Same as always in other words. The only added element this year is that it is the 25th anniversary of the fair. And finally you will be aware of the fact, as it is - not before time and never too late - being publicised.

For the events, go to the WHAT'S ON BLOG - http://wotzupnorth.blogspot.com.


Tucked away under other events going on over the next few days is an announcement that the Pollensa Greens and United Left are organising a meeting - in Pollensa - regarding the planned train extension to Alcúdia. The announcement is couched in typically environmentally-concerned fashion, as one might expect. In other words, the train is better for the environment than a bus etc, etc. The current preference for the route of the train, as you will know from previous mentions here, is the so-called "northern corridor" that would go alongside the road from Sa Pobla and then terminate somewhere not far from Alcúdia's auditorium. This is the route that has got so many upset because it would go straight through finca land on the outskirts of Alcúdia. The meeting in Pollensa will address the potential for a tram to connect the train to Puerto Pollensa, again all well and environmentally sound. Yet there does appear to be a conflict here, where the Greens are concerned at any rate. The obvious route to effect the tram connection is the one being proposed, but it is potentially more disruptive of the environment (that finca land) than others on the table. And then, where would such a tram be routed? The simplest and most direct way would be slap bang along the whole of the coast road - the same coast road, part of which some environmentalists are calling to be closed and allowed to become beach and the other part of which is embraced by the pedestrianisation scheme. And who opposes the pedestrianisation scheme? Among others, the Greens and the United Left who you might have thought would have been in favour of it. Somehow, it doesn't all add up - if you are a Green that is. Or maybe, the Alcúdia finca land notwithstanding, it does. Pedestrianise, and then the chances of a tram line must, one would have thought, be reduced; the chances, that is, of one that doesn't then have to confront all the roundabouts of the new road.


If vehicles are the environmental anti-Christ, then there may be some good news for those who see them as such. New car sales are down in Spain by some 40% (in October compared with last October), with the fall in the Balearics a couple of points higher than the national average and with a decline in sales of off-roaders being particularly acute. The overall slump for the first ten months of the year is 24%. This is all, of course, a consequence of the economic situation as opposed to any sudden mass concern for carbon footprints or carbon track marks. But spare a thought for car dealers who are suffering, further victims of the downturn.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Despite it being from the '70s, Geoff, our '60s guru, was among those who knew The Fortunes (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4c7gUFcxTU). Today's title - Scott's one-time television girlfriend.

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Storm In A Teacup

Tea. Jeremy Clarkson denounced the drinking of tea in "The Sunday Times" this week. Among the ills that tea has caused, in Clarkson's world, is the virtual collapse of the British banking system. Coffee is the beverage required by sound banking systems - just look at the Spanish.

Tea, you see, is not the first thing that comes to the Spanish mind when about to embark on a strenuous couple of hours of lolling around in a café nursing but one drink. Of course it isn't. The café is the same word as café (coffee). Why would you drink tea in an establishment that is named after coffee? This probably explains the tea that does get served. Because the Spanish don't get it where tea is concerned, they are extremely reluctant to provide it. They may well say that it is tea, but don't be fooled. Whatever that sachet with a piece of string contains, you can be confident that it isn't actually tea. The same applies to those places that bring along a cafetiere of tea. Why, one asks, would you put tea into something that is intended for coffee? But be that as it may. As with the sachet, you need to wait a good half an hour for whatever it is to "brew" and then press the plunger, by which time it is stone cold and when it is poured into milk becomes the colour of sand. Maybe that's it. Tea is sand.

Oddly enough though, if one gets local tea from a supermarket, it does actually taste and look like tea without also tasting or looking as though it has been mixed with engine oil as can be the case with hardcore British tea. Indeed something like the Eroski own-brand "té" is vastly preferable to a Tetley's tea-bag. Put that anywhere near water and the instant result is as if the whole plantation, earth included, is being forced down your throat. There are some who like their tea strong, northerners usually, but this can only be so that they want their jaws glued together with the industrial quantities of tannin that "flood out" of a Tetley's. But actually finding tea in its unadulterated state is becoming increasingly difficult in the supermarkets. Go to the admittedly not vast tea sections and there are pretend teas that require a dictionary to be ready to hand in order to translate whatever obscure herb they are made from. Try finding a pack of "té". So long as it isn't actually tea, the Spanish are quite happy to drink it.

The Spanish love-in with coffee is hard to explain insofar as one would not expect many to still be alive once they've had one. I'm sure it's the case that there is a rule that all bars and cafés must have a defibrillator on the premises as well as a hotline to a team of paramedics. I now always ask for a coffee "flojo" (weak) on the basis that it won't be weak but may not be so strong that someone will have to rifle through my wallet and look for my health card. I also often append the adjective "caliente" (hot) to the milk noun if it is café con leche I'm ordering. I have always believed that hot drinks should be just that - hot. If I wanted a cold drink, I'd order a water or a beer or the half-hour-to-vaguely-brew tea. But cold and coffee go together here; there is the rather odd phenomenon of having an expresso and a glass of ice, and pouring the former into the latter. I tried it once, and it is truly pointless. It is beyond the bounds of taste (good taste, that is) if then sugar is chucked in. Iced water with sugar. How can anyone justify that?

Of course there isn't any discussion when it comes to sugar. It just arrives, some of it in elaborate packaging that can fool you into believing they've been kind enough to give you a freebie of a triangle of Toblerone. Except it wouldn't be free and nor is the sugar, even if, as is most likely, they've not actually paid for it. No, the cost of the coffee is priced according to the designer wedge-shaped sugar packet. I never have sugar, and yet there it always is. Do they offer a discount for returning the sugar? Do they heck. That's why they don't get a tip.


GALES AND BENEFIT SEEKING
More gales hit during Sunday; the second lot in a few days. The worst of the weather affected the south, but the winds were still powerful in the north, though with only intermittent rain. Someone here had a wall go over. The strength of the gusts was at times quite frightening; God knows how bad it was in the south. Then yesterday it started fine, which, for the massive dole queue at the unemployment office in Puerto Alcúdia, must have been good news, until that is, it started to rain. All those people having to stand and wait in the elements; there is something not quite right with this. I thought it was just foreigners who were treated with disrespect by having to queue under a boiling sun or in the rain at the foreign affairs building in Palma. Not so; everyone is treated similarly. There has got to be a better way.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Great stuff - Underworld, "Born Slippy" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlLWFa1b1Bc). Today's title - various songs with this title, but what about the one by a "lucky" Brummie pop group of the '60s and '70s?

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Breaking And Entering

An isolated house in the countryside. Middle of the afternoon. Two youths break in to the house. They pistol-whip a man in his sixties who is there alone. They hightail it with a third person, clutching 300 euros. One hundred each. Just for knocking someone semi-conscious.

Where did this occur? Off the main road between Can Picafort and Santa Margalida. I know the road well. Along it there isn't a great deal. The Santa Eulália rural hotel apart, there is virtually nothing until you get to the Es Turó / S'Alqueria restaurant and then, a kilometre or more further along, come into Santa Margalida. All that you find are one bar and tracks off for a few houses and fincas, isolated, in the country; idyllic in their quietness until, that is, a couple of thugs destroy that idyll. It's ideal, I guess, if you want to do a bit of thieving and burglarising.

An isolated house and maybe an isolated incident. One can but hope. But bad times lead to bad things. And it is not just the villas of the rich that are the targets. When someone had his flat in Puerto Alcúdia burgled, the Guardia remarked that anyone is a target now. There used to be a sort-of Robin Hood code, but not any longer. The Guardia are anticipating that there will be an increase in this sort of crime. It's hardly a surprising, if depressing, conclusion.

One can of course get carried away and start imagining households under siege from non-existent gangs of burglars, but anyone with an image of Mallorca as a place of open doors and exclusively happy-go-lucky people having fun is sadly deluding him or herself. Why do you suppose there is all that security fronting properties that I mentioned yesterday? The island may once have been largely crime-free, but its very success (for which read also wealth), its population increase and its social disparities (to say nothing of drugs) have fomented crime.

When I was speaking the other day with Jim and Ray from the association of British businesses and residents, one thing that came up was policing. Jim is a former policeman, and he was talking about a need for community policing. It is just one approach. Locally, one is aware of the local police doing the rounds in a car a couple of times a day and one also sees them at night. The Guardia also put in a drive-by appearance. I'm not sure how much of a deterrent this all is. Perhaps with the growth in unemployment and a willingness to splash public money, the government and the town halls could create job opportunities for more policing - policing aimed at patrolling the local neighbourhoods.


Alcúdia is apparently aiming to make itself the island's number one "leisure-craft resort" (reports "The Bulletin") and is among the marinas promoted by the Spanish Turespaña marketing body. Good news perhaps, though where they will find the space for more moorings, other than floating ones, I'm not sure. There is also the idea that the redevelopment of the commercial port and the building of the terminal will attract leisure cruisers, something that one considers with a degree of scepticism. But it may happen, and again would be no bad thing.

All this activity, if one can call it such, among the waterworldists comes at a time when a production company is seeking a commission from a UK television network for a drama series, set in a "luxury yachting marina" (again as mentioned by "The Bulletin"). Going under the working title of "Skippers", it would, apparently, feature "racy storylines", glamorous and hunky actresses and actors and be a boon to Mallorca's tourism. The likelihood is that, were it to be made, it would be based in the south. Portals springs to mind. It sounds a bit like "Howards' Way" with more money and sun and Pamela Anderson and David Hasselhoff chests. One wonders just how representative it would be. A series with the shallower but upper echelons of the expat food chain of the waterworld would, I would suggest, be fairly unrepresentative. There is scope for an altogether grittier drama about real life in Mallorca, but they probably wouldn't make that, preferring instead some reality docuTV about some poor saps for whom it's all gone wrong. And I think they may have done that already.

But a real-life drama, not one of intrigue featuring contemporary-day slimeball Ken Masters's or Charles Freres in waterworld, would be more compelling. They could show how it is, not how it is imagined. It could start with a man in his sixties being pistol-whipped. Now I think of it, wasn't one of the first ever storylines in "Eastenders" about an old man being robbed?


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Prince, but because his stuff is barred from youtube, here is the Simple Minds version (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDTruFjP57s). Today's title - this was a film for which the "lager, lager" people were partly responsible for the soundtrack. Who were they and what was the lager track?

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Sign O' The Times

Taking a walk on what was a sunny holiday yesterday and looking at the properties under construction or on offer, you get an impression as to the trough that the construction and real-estate sectors are in. One development, essentially a re-development, of two-to-three bedroomed chalets with a communal pool. The for-sale sign went up at least a year ago. I had not noticed until yesterday that there is a new sign. It says for sale or rent. "They can't sell them," I muttered. There was a nod of agreement. The only saving grace is that the properties are finished. This was not the case with the others. One of these, the development for which, in desperation one feels, there were brochures being put under car windscreens every Sunday when the beach was packed, has started work again. But who is going to buy? On these developments there are always signs up from the local council (Muro) with information as to the developer, the architect and the dates of agreement - when it was approved, when it was started, when it is scheduled for completion. As far as the latter information is concerned, it says, somewhat ambiguously, "two years". It is unclear whether it is two years from approval or from commencement. It probably doesn't matter. Who in their right mind is prepared to hand over a deposit for something that may or may not be finished next year some time, or later, or never at all? It's the developer caught between a rock and a hard place. The work has to continue with as much credit as can be extracted but without deposits to guarantee the next line of credit. Or so one presumes. Maybe there are people mad enough to stump up and wait and pray. Then there is another development. It has reached its completion date. It has not been completed. There is no work going on. One of the units is occupied, but the front of the development still has a builder's wire gate of a shield. Some time, perhaps, the people who have the sole unit will get some sort of wall and security entrance. They may have a long wait.

It is understandable that construction work is suspended during the tourist season, but this does the construction industry few or no favours. The developers are left with an unworked asset that becomes a liability because of the building hiatus. It has been something they could live with, but not now, especially not now. The developers need more flexibility as to when they can build, but they are unlikely to get it. The government is caught between the rock of tourism tranquility and the hard place of companies going out of business and workers chucked onto the dole queues. The symbiosis between Mallorca's tourism and its construction - its only two important industries - is also the island's weakness when the economic conditions are as weak as they are and have been for several months. Of course there is no guarantee that these properties will be bought in any event, but the summer break creates a strain that is impossible, and this summer break has been the breaking point.

Going further on the walk on this pleasant sunny day, there is the plot that has been there for so long, sandwiched between two striking homes with high walls and security paraphernalia. There is something new. On the pavement is a temporary workman's loo. There is no other work happening in the vicinity. Maybe it arrived yesterday. Maybe there is work due to start this coming week. And you wonder why. Why now? Perhaps someone with adequate funds has bought the plot for a new-build house for which he or she also has adequate funds. In that case it is probably ok, but the sign that has been on the plot for some two years suggests otherwise. The developers may be given few favours by the summer break, but they do themselves few favours either. Why start now? They should take a walk as well. It won't take long.

Then there are the prices. The house of the German neighbour who died during the summer. Two estate agents have valued it: one at 500,000, the other at 550,000. All the other neighbours want to know the value and then usually shake their heads or have to wait until they have translated the price into pesetas before then shaking their heads - ¡¡ochenta milliones!! The question that gets asked is normally how many millions, because they still operate in pesetas. And when they work it out, they crease their foreheads and think they've miscalculated. The house is fine, very pleasant, well-maintained with new kitchen etc etc. But it has only two bedrooms; it isn't that big. The agents say, oh well there could be a third bedroom or maybe there could be another storey on what is a flat-roofed bungalow. Yes, maybe there could be, but that costs money. And then there is the slight problem of some of the legality. An old, familiar story. Another neighbour - also German - said to me that the price was unrealistic. 350,000; that was more like it. I couldn't disagree with him. How do they arrive at these still inflated prices? Especially now.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Visage (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cznha2YTTh0). Today's title - genius but potty under whatever name.

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We Fade To Grey

So was that it then? The season. Where did it go?

"The first day of summer. What a difference in terms of evocativeness there is between two adjectives - first and last. The former, the first, is optimism, excitement, the new."

That was back on 1 May. Where did all that optimism go? Was it excitement, or was it trepidation? Was it really new or just the same routine of hope and pray? Whatever it was, it's gone. Ended. Over. That was the season, and not everyone will be mourning its passing, though there will be foreboding as to the winter that starts today.

In keeping with the change of the tourism seasons, I started to feel increasingly cold yesterday. I was sitting on the terrace of the Hotel Uyal in Puerto Pollensa. The wind, though with nothing like the ferocity of the past days, was chilly when it picked up. I was there for some three hours, a long chat, a long chat with two of the movers behind that association I mentioned the other day - Asociación de Britanicos Irlandeses Residentes Empresarios y Trabajadores en las Baleares. Jim and Ray had come up from Santa Ponsa. Jim, who's Scottish, remarked that the bay reminded him of Scotland. A loch perhaps; I don't know, I've never seen one. But the rather misty silverness of the sky mingling with the calm grey sea with the backdrop of the hills to either side, partly shrouded by the intermediacy between black and white of cloud, might well be reminiscent. Maybe that's why so many Scots go to Puerto Pollensa.

Inevitably we got round to talking about the winter. It's probably worse in Santa Ponsa than it is in Alcúdia or Pollensa. Some places had shut back in September. Looking for ways of boosting all tourism, but especially that in winter, is one of the aims of the association. Talk to TUI, talk to Thomas Cook. Maybe. Tour operators are not necessarily known for their altruism. They would need a reason, and that probably has to be given to them via a bottom-up approach as I mentioned previously. Otherwise, the likes of TUI have got the Canaries and Egypt and further afield to fill their winter brochures. Mallorca's slow death in winter is in inverse proportion to the expansion of other destinations over the years. The tour operators follow the sun, just like the tourists do. There is no altruism. Were there to be, then they might stop offering all-inclusives in Alcúdia. But then they'd say they're being sort of altruistic in keeping the customer satisfied. They can't satisfy everyone, only themselves.

But there's sense in trying. Amidst all the moans of winter, who does anything? There will be plenty who feel it - the association - is just a waste of time. Someone's got to give it a go though. I'm not sure how many trust the local tourist authorities to rouse themselves other than to bang on about such things as golf courses when there are plenty of those elsewhere. Golf is follow-me competition. It is hardly a strong selling point.

I say to Jim and Ray that one problem is the very notion of an "association". There is a reason for it being called so, and that's to do with how the Spanish define and name things. Association it is, by association and by incorporation. There are those who would run a mile from anything tagged with the word, like I normally would. Maybe it should have a nickname so no one will notice. Call it "Reggie" or "Ronnie" or something; though maybe not both of them together.

There have to be benefits, I go on. Clear benefits. People want to know what's in it for them. Bar owners and others are not necessarily altruistic when it comes to also paying the rent and the suppliers, nor might they dip into their pockets for a membership fee without knowing that there's a potential return. So there will be a benefit statement, and then some ideas to be pursued via a website as well as a sporting angle - rugby, football, bowls, all on the agenda, and not just as a social thing, but from a tourism perspective. Everything's open to suggestion. And I remember Juan, who's involved with the Alcúdia rugby club, and his notion of rugby tourism. They're playing Menorca today. Maybe I should get along.

The association is potentially a good idea, notwithstanding some also potential drawbacks that have been expressed to me, and which I have outlined above. There is also great scope in terms of its objectives. And maybe there will be some real action. There is a recognition that the whingeing and just talking have to stop. It could be an interesting ride.

Here is a link for information about the association - http://theassociation.club.officelive.com


MEANWHILE ... POLLENSA TOWN HALL
So while the mere mortals are adjusting to the change of the season, the town hall (reported in "The Diario") has been having a meeting and turning down the motion against the pedestrianisation scheme which had been backed by a petition of some one thousand signatures. Mayor Cerdà says that there will be a new plan for "mobility" that will be based on "general consensus", by which one presumes he means widespread consultation. He also defended the pedestrianisation scheme by reference to a report from the local police which concluded that the scheme was "viable". I suppose the question is whether the police have come up with this report since the pedestrianisation trial was implemented or whether it came before. And on another matter - the camino de Ternelles in Pollensa - the mayor has promised that he will sign an order to have it opened to the public ... eventually.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Madonna (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bb8akXtOCaI). Today's title - probably the defining new romantics song.

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