In The Middle

In my review of 2008, one of the "highlights" (if one can use such a word) was that noted for 14 June - "the politics of language took to the air with demands that Air Berlin use Catalan". This provoked further comment and someone accused me of a certain anti-Catalan bias, which - as those who have been reading this blog over the years may realise - is not the case. What is, is the fact that I believe, in matters of language, that pragmatism should come before idealism.

But why am I bringing this up again? Well, because it is being brought up again by no less a figure than the president of the tourism promotion body ("Fomento del Turismo") who also happens to be the director-general for Spain and Portugal of ... yep, Air Berlin. This is a gentleman who goes by the wonderfully anglo-suggestive Germano-Iberian name of Alvaro Middelmann; the suggestion being that of a "middle man", but - as far as I am aware - "middel" is not a German word (it's mittel). Nevertheless, it is a name that hints at feet in both camps - of Spain and Germany, but he is not someone who tramps a linguistic middle ground. He's not got a lot of time for the Catalan argument.

Reported in "The Diario", Middelmann, at a tourism conference, reckons that the Balearics lose "the opportunity to attract many people with a high spending capacity" because of the language issue. He takes the line that, because the Balearics are Spain, the Castilian language should be respected. There are a lot of people who would agree with him and who would argue that it should have supremacy over Catalan in the islands and not dual language status. Middelmann, venturing into the politics of language arena, argues that the conservative Partido Popular is partly to blame for having allowed the pro-Catalan situation to have occurred, which - for those in the PP who have made their occasional anti-Catalan outbursts in the past (leader Rajoy and Calvià mayor Delgado, for example) - will not sound reassuring.

When Middelmann refers to losing people who might come and spend a fair amount of moolah on the islands, he is presumably referring to - in the main - those from Castilian-speaking parts of the Peninsula. Mayor Delgado has, of course, made this point himself (18 December: Don't Worry). If Sr. Middelmann isn't referring to them, then I'm not quite sure what his point is. For mostly everyone else, the language issue is a non-subject. How many people coming from the UK know that there are two official languages in the Balearics and that one of them - the derivations of Catalan locally - are the native tongue? Very, very few, I would suggest. And there would still be very, very few among those who have had repeat holidays, and very, very few of those who could utter a single word in Catalan. In Castilian, yes, but Catalan, no.

The language debate does not affect your everyday tourist from countries other than Spain, and nor should it. If tourists can speak a language, then it will be Castilian and not Catalan. What are tourists? Customers. What do you give customers? What they need, not what you might like them to have. Yet there are those who persist in bringing the language debate up in the context of tourism - some of them fanatics in pursuit of the fatuous. No-one is going to accede to some sort of Catalan dogmatism if it harms their tourist business, but Middelmann is just the latest to suggest that it is doing just that.

His address was part of a wider attack on the political class as a whole and the current Balearic Government in particular. He singled out the administration for criticism in terms of delays in granting licences for hotel renovations. On the same day as Middelmann was levelling this criticism, the tourism minister, Miquel Nadal, was suggesting that the simplification of procedures and the availability of credit to enable these renovations was just about to kick in. You will recall that these are all part of a drive to, at least in part, combat the economic crisis by giving the construction industry a leg-up. Middelmann may well be right to say that there have been delays, but, as has been said before, much of the problem resides with the town halls and their dealings with different government ministries. You see, it just goes round and round. The government decides on a course of action - in this case to cut bureaucracy in the granting of licences - but it is ultimately the body which, via its ministries, holds the whole thing up. Crazy.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Genesis (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3MzShg7yXik). Today's title - girl group, which one?

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

Land Of Confusion

Now, you might be under the impression that the long drawn-out, utterly tedious and indeed utterly pointless controversy surrounding the projected golf course near Playa de Muro had finally come to some conclusion. You might be under this impression if you had read that the environment minister had "vetoed" it. You would, though, have needed to have read a bit more closely in order to discover that it wasn't the environment minister and that what the not-the-environment minister actually said was that it was a matter for the Mallorca Council, though he did also say that there were enough golf courses (well, more or less he said that) and that the current government was against expansion of different types (including "touristic" and "sporting" ones) if they did not have full government approval.

As far as the argument about there being enough golf courses, he - and he is in fact the minister for mobility and "ordenación" (whatever that is) - is absolutely right. I have said it time and time again on this blog that the conversion of the Son Bosc finca is not appropriate because another golf course is simply not needed. To hell with the environmental issues, important though they also are, the straightforward business case for the course is completely unproven. Right, so good, the minister seems to get that much, and the reporting suggests that this is all a victory for enviro agitators GOB. It may well indeed be, but what exactly does this have to do with this particular minister? Not a great deal, one imagines, if the actions of the equivalent here of the Ombudsman are anything to go by. Following a complaint by GOB, the Ombudsman is investigating whether there has been a lack of objectivity in the case of the Son Bosc golf development by ... the environment ministry, which is a different ministry to that of the mobility chap but is still part of the same Balearic Government. And yet, according to the minister, it should all be a matter for the Mallorca Council, which has nevertheless not prevented him from "vetoing" the development.

And there is something else which is a matter for the Mallorca Council, about which the minister is having his say. Following a meeting with GOB, he cast doubts as to plans advanced, by the Mallorca Council, for new ring roads around Palma.

So, hang on, let's just try and get this straight if we can, or try and make a bit of a sense of it. The minister, whose government is under investigation from the Ombudsman, has a meeting with those who registered the complaint that has led to the Ombudsman's investigation, at which he says no to the subject of that investigation, and passes the buck to the Mallorca Council against whose plans for the ring roads he is also now not in agreement with, a point he makes following a meeting with those who registered the Son Bosc complaint that led to the Ombudsman's investigation. Right, well that's all clear then.

But if it is indeed down to the Mallorca Council to decide on Son Bosc and for the Council to draw up plans for new roads, one asks the question again of local politics: who actually is responsible and why does one need so many tiers of government? Can a regional government not sort out roads and other environmental matters? They have their say on the matters, so why not just let them get on with dealing with them? Then there is the question of possible overlap and turf wars. Where is the line between the environment ministry and the mobility ministry? It gets dreadfully confusing. And maybe there is just one other aspect to all this. The environment minister is from the UM (Unió Mallorquina) party and the mobility minister is from the Mallorcan socialists.

You have probably lost the plot. Don't worry, so have I.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Queen (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpys1c3jCNs). Today's title - again, yes, once again.

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

Innuendo

And so, he didn't actually bother coming, but he certainly saw, and didn't much care for what he saw, and so left unconquered the nevertheless soon-to-be decaying corpse that is Un-Real Mallorca, a one-time football club gone terminal basket case. The "he" was Freddy Shepherd - why-aye; why-no, man. This was not some dodgy business or bar being flogged by a so-called agent with a tenuous claim to be thus. This was not an "oh, yea, but there's a good 25% more of black income, know what I mean, nudge, nudge" or a British bar surrounded by three large hotels that he fails to mention have just become German all-inclusives. No. There may be a good deal of dodginess surrounding the affairs of Un-Real's owner, Vicente Grande, but the club was not dodgy, just "economically unviable". There is a difference. Thus spake the erstwhile Newcastle boss in kicking into touch, once and for all, his interest in the island's La Liga club. The vultures will soon be circling; there will lie the cadaver of a lifeless football club. You don't brand something economically unviable - in public - and then expect there to be a queue of other potential purchasers waiting to pass through the turnstiles. Whether the team gets relegated or not seems largely immaterial. The chances are it will get booted out because of its financial state, and booted out using a very long ball tactic. Where, oh where, I wonder, does this leave the notion that a Brit (either Shepherd or Davidson, "The Plumber") pursuing Un-Real represented British confidence in investing in Mallorca - the island and not just the crap football club? It leaves it nowhere. Because it never was anywhere in the first place.


Of cocks and choppers
In passing yesterday, I mentioned the pine tree malarkey in Pollensa. This involves various lunatics attempting to clamber up a greased or soaped up pine tree in pursuit of a cock in a bag. And that is a cock, as in something that goes cock-a-doodle-do. It's another of those wacky local traditions, and forms part of the Pollensa Sant Antoni gig. They don't just try and set fire to each other and to the town, they try also to fall to their deaths from a greasy pine tree. My, what fun they all have. Tradition, however, goes even further than the mere climbing event itself; there is a whole carry-on attached to getting the tree in the first place. And this carry-on does make you wonder how exactly people spend their time here. A mere eighty people - only eighty of them, mind - headed off to the finca of Ternelles to the north of the town, found themselves a suitable pine tree ("pi de Ternelles") and then chopped it down. One of them was the mayor who got his own chopper out. There's a photo on "The Diario's" website to prove it, if you're interested. But before they'd even done this, or maybe it was afterwards - it doesn't really matter - they all tucked into a picnic of pa amb oli, sausage and the dreaded ensaimada. Haven't they got anything better to do? And why does it need 80 of them?

Anyway, once down, the tree is then stripped of its bark and left until being hauled off into town on the day of the do. One thing that can be said, I suppose, is that they're trusting souls around here. One could well imagine, elsewhere, that this now barkless pine tree might somehow disappear overnight and have become kitchen furniture or a fitted wardrobe before they turn up to transport the by then-absent tree to the Plaça Vella in the centre of the old town. Mind you, anyone who was daft enough to have it away with 20 metres of pine being towed behind a middle of the night 4x4 might fall foul of 80 angry Pollensa residents armed with their choppers at the ready. Not a pretty sight nor a pretty thought.


Patrick McGoohan
And apropos nothing to do with other stuff today, one of this blog's occasional "obituaries". Patrick McGoohan's gone. "The Prisoner", "Danger Man", but most importantly the former. "We want information." "You won't get it." This has been a title for an entry on the blog. Title entries tend to reflect what I like, what I admire. Not completely, but in the case of "The Prisoner", unequivocal. It was, and remains, brilliant. And God knows, it's 40 years ago. Where does it go? Be seeing you.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Rolling Stones (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E3DBRbrbHnc). Today's title - one of the last and great things from? Think Freddy(ie). Never liked them much, but this was superb.

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

Play With Fire

Devil time. Devil worship. Come to the sabbat, Satan's there. Er, no, actually he's not. Let's not get too carried away with dreadful occultist-style heavy metal from circa the late '60s and early '70s. It's not what I want to talk about anyway. What I do, is the fact that it is - once more - devil time in that it is Sant Antoni fiesta time, and the night of the demons and the witches (the actual night is that of the 16th). It's a fiesta time that has taken hold in much of the island. The other day I was at a printer with a business associate. The chat was in Mallorquín, but I got the drift. We were admiring a poster for a Sant Antoni night. I ventured that all the towns have a Sant Antoni now - Alcúdia, Pollensa, Muro, Sa Pobla, just to name four neighbouring towns. Not all, said the printer chappy, but many, he did admit. Nice for him. The printers of Mallorca seem to survive on fiesta literature.

One of the biggest, if not the biggest, Sant Antoni gig is that of Sa Pobla. Quite why Sa Pobla has assumed such a status I'm unsure. Maybe someone can enlighten me. But big-time devil time status it has got. The "Nit Bruixa" or "Noche Bruja" (witch night) has become that major a do that the police this year will be limiting the numbers entering the main square in the town. They will be manning all entrances, and when the square gets full they'll stop more people coming in. This is a rare display of local health and safety it seems to me. But more of that in a bit.

The Sa Pobla event has now also spawned its own sort of pre-gig rehearsal. On Saturday, there was a fire run. Either a rehearsal or they just couldn't wait - they were that excited. Mind you, having these rehearsals is becoming a Spanish thing. In Madrid, the celebrations for new year occurred not only on New Year's Eve but also on the night before. Will this be happening with other fiestas and celebrations? Can we expect, for instance, that the flotilla of boats and the fireworks of Sant Pere in Puerto Alcúdia will now take place on both the 28th and the 29th of June?

But to come back to that practice fire run and to health and safety. Many of you who are here in the summer might have been to a fire run during the fiesta weeks. Can Picafort has one, for example. They are a feature of many fiestas, as of course are the devils and the demons; just that at Sant Antoni, they go really overboard with the demons - and the fire. Especially in Sa Pobla, where they also endanger life by offering the local eel speciality. It is, though, hard to imagine that anything like the fire run could occur in the UK. Or anything like the fires in the streets of the towns. The police might now be worrying about too may people and some crushing, but few are concerned that there could be some third-degree burns. To be fair, they do issue warnings as to what to wear and what not to wear when the fire runs are on and when the demons are brandishing their torches about, but warnings would not be enough in the UK. No possible way. The whole thing would have been banned years ago. As also would have been the climb up the greasy pine tree in Pollensa.

When it comes to humans, there isn't quite the urge to get banning here as there is with animals (except for bulls of course). They can do something ridiculous, such as stopping the tossing of live ducks into the sea in Can Picafort, but they still let bulls be slaughtered and let humans dice with being burnt alive. Personally, I'm all for it. Not people being burnt alive, but the absence of the control freakery of a health-and-safety-ist mentality. However, were someone to be badly injured, I just wonder what would happen. I know full well what would happen in the UK. But here? It would be no good saying that there were warnings and advice as to what to wear and so on. A town hall puts on a do in which lit torches are waved around in front of thousands of people. Someone cops for some bad burns - or worse - and you're telling me that a competent compensation lawyer wouldn't hammer the relevant town hall. I hope it doesn't happen.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - REM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cWqC6WZ_0Y). Today's title - only a B-side, but still very well known. And they were (are)?

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

I've Got My Orange Crush

The local clementines are a real treat. They are also inexpensive. You can get a good bag full for a euro. What can be doubly nice about them is that they come with a bit of greenery still attached. There are probably those who complain that this adds to the weight and therefore the price, but it is a very small matter when compared with the sheer aesthetic of a green leaf or two atop the small orange as it nestles in the fruit bowl.

Because they are sweet, cheap and plentiful, they are also very popular - as you might imagine. But the clementine's popularity has a downside. And that is that the skin often does not find its way to the rubbish bins. There is an, how can one put it, indifference towards litter among some of the locals and, though fruit skin will eventually degrade - unlike empty beer and water bottles - it takes some time. Evidence of the popularity of the winter clementine is the fact that on many a street corner and indeed along a street are scattered piles of peels. They are as common as the shattered glass that is the remnant of a car having shunted into the back of another.

It does, though, take some mindlessness to walk along a street, peel a clementine and just discard the skin on the pavement. There again, we are in the same sort of territory, I guess, as the reluctance to scoop up dog turds which of course will also degrade, after a while. But because nature eventually takes its course is really no excuse. In fact, it is no excuse at all; it is just mindlessness or bloody-mindedness.


I had vowed to try and steer away from the economic bad news stories. I am still trying my best to ignore them and hope they will just go away, but I would be neglecting my duty - such as it is - not to mention the thoroughly dire economic indicators that are knocking around Spain just at present. A fall of a tad over 15% in industrial output in one month is going some, even for a country lurching into recession, which Spain is. The largest decline has been in durables - output of tumble dryers and the like have tumbled some 24%. Despite those white goods I mentioned being shifted around yesterday at the Alcúdia recycling dump, there don't appear to be too many actually taking their place in households. On top of this, unemployment is at a twelve-year high. The good news, if one call it such, is that the European Central Bank may cut interest rates further, which might just have the effect of weakening the euro against the pound; the trend is already in that direction.

Much as though the experience of Spain is being repeated elsewhere in "Euroland", Spain does have its own peculiarities which make recession potentially deeper. These are the housing market, the astonishing amount of debt that exists in that market and the sheer lack of movement in it at present as well as the general lack of competitiveness of the economy as a whole.

There was some optimism being expressed in "The Bulletin" at the weekend that Mallorca might be able to stave off some the worst of the recession. It has been suggested before that the island's economy may not slip into recession even if the rest of Spain does. It will be tourism that sees to that. However, one feels that some of the evidence being cited of Mallorca's comparative buoyancy is probably rather delusory. One aspect is that there is apparently an increase in the number of Brits moving over here. Well yes, and maybe they're all coming in hope of finding work or business that doesn't exist. Another is that there are hints that the tourism season will turn out to be better than might have been anticipated. Again well yes, but might the numbers be heading to increased numbers of all-inclusives? That may make the economic figures read well but the wider economy will not benefit. In this context, Les emailed me to say that there appears to be a broadening of the AI offer around The Mile in Alcúdia. As I said the other day, one can understand it, but it really helps no-one except perhaps some hoteliers who might be panicking into offering AI at a time of economic difficulty.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - "I Ran", A Flock Of Seagulls (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUjIA3Rt7gk). Today's title - an earlier thing from one of the biggest of all time.

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

Appearing From My View

I might have mentioned A.A.Gill in the past. In fact I know I have. It was in connection with a piece he wrote about Vienna. I can't remember now how I managed to make the leap of imagination from that to something about Mallorca, but presumably I did. Gill, some of you may be aware, does the telly review in "The Sunday Times". There is no need to have watched any of the programmes; Gill does a more than adequate job in describing them and usually explaining how dreadful they are. He was writing yesterday about Nicholas Crane's Britannia, rubbishing it indeed. There was much in the review, though, that struck a chord. Here is a flavour: "a sort of sentimental fascism about (series of elegiac rambles across England), an overromanticised geological jingoism, (an) England (that) doesn't contain any suburbs or tower blocks; no motorways, airports, no industry, no trading estates, no you and me." As with so much that is "travel" documentary or literature, the default setting is beauteous landscape and the selling of what amounts to almost mythical status, often with the assistance of dollops of hyperbole - the brochure talk of which I am so wary. Gill may be speaking of the perpetuation of a "bogus" representation of England, but this could just as well apply to Mallorca, in the sense that what is often presented is solely as some sort of KGB-censoring promotional unit would want it. Not because there is any such attempt to keep the image of Mallorca unsullied and only beauteous, but because there is so much unthinking writing about the island; unthinking in that it doesn't attempt to go beyond the superlatives of land and seascape.

In a sense, I suppose, part of the point of this blog has been to address this; to take a different view and to also look at different things. It's why, for example, there have been - in the past - the likes of features on streets and their names, on toilets, on the apparent absence of planning when it comes to architecture and on the curious - such as the Poblat GESA as one goes into Alcanada. Looking at things differently might, I guess, be a sort of sub-heading for the blog. And so ... On Friday, I became aware, for the first time (and in keeping with a theme of "rubbish") of the municipal dump in Alcúdia. The "Punt Verd" (green point). I was watching from the road as some chap moved white goods around on a large skip-style container. I knew the dump was there, but I had never been or indeed stopped to have a look - until Friday. I was hanging around because the car was having a new belt fitted at Arbona. This might let you be able to locate where the dump is, if you don't know. Arbona is on the coast road between Alcúdia and Puerto Pollensa, but right by the roundabout as you come into Alcúdia. Around the back of it, there is and has been much apartment building. There was one block. It was quite nice in a Taylor Woodrow grey and white way. Plenty of signs for sale and one or two to rent. There seemed little evidence of much occupancy. But despite these apartments looking quite pleasant, there was one major drawback: they overlook that rubbish tip. Who is going to buy a place with that sort of a view and with the noise of the carts that goes with it? It may not be a tip with all the everyday household garbage (it is essentially a recycling tip), but it is still a dump.

There is another block of apartments that is a work in progress close by. It has a huge sign as you drive past on the main road heading off to Palma. "Venta de pisos." Like there wasn't much evidence of sales at one block, there was equally little evidence of work happening with this other one. This area has been earmarked for development. Nothing wrong with that, but it can be to no-one's advantage if you build nice, fairly expensive apartments slap bang next to the council dump. It doesn't make a huge amount of sense, and of course there is another possibility - which is that the train extension may well mean a line just over the main road, if the terminal is to be sited near the auditorium. A tip and railway line. I can just hear the beauteous language of the apartments' sales literature.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Monkees. The alternate title was "Randy Scouse Git". Today's title - from a song by a new romantic act; think squawks on, or indeed above, the beach.

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

Alternate Title

The Pollensa "alternative". It's not some sort of promotional slogan, though it wouldn't be a bad one, if I could actually think what it might apply to. No, the Pollensa alternative is a political thing; it is the alternative of the United Left (Esquerra Unida) and Els Verds (The Greens). From what I can make out, it is an alternative of one, namely Pepe García, whose name crops up as regularly, if not more so in matters to do with Pollensa, than arch publicity seekers, the environmental group GOB. One-man alternative or not, García does certainly seem bent on getting everyone to know who he is. When you have a target like Pollensa's poor old mayor, who everyone seems to want to have a pop at, it seems that you can't really go wrong. I imagine Sr. García gets up in the morning, and thinks, now what can I do to make the mayor's life a misery today? Ah yes, I know. And so it follows. Whatever it is. And the thought he had the other day was to do with Cala San Vicente. Poor old Cala San Vicente. Lovely little place, but dying on its feet, not that it has feet as such, more a disabled carriage slowly sinking into the sand of oblivion.

Anything with the hint of the new or cutting out a bit of nature, and GOB are onto it like a lion hunting its prey, closely followed - in Pollensa - by the alternative; the alternative Sr. García, that is. Or maybe GOB follow him. Who knows? Anyway, things have not been all sweetness and light down CSV way for some while, owing to a new development of apartments by the Cala Molins (which is the lower part of Cala San Vicente, for those of you who know the place). Some pines have been eliminated to make way for the development, but the real beef at present is the presence of a bloody great crane, about which - apparently - the alternative has received complaints from neighbours. The alternative goes on to suggest that perhaps the appropriate licence that allows the use of the crane is not in effect. Oh God no, here we go, more bloody licence stuff. And accordingly, the alternative will probably issue a "denuncia". Of course they're going to use a crane. I can point to a crane near to me that has been there for months - during the stalled summer works on a new development and now beyond. Cranes are fairly useful things to have around when doing some building. But down in the Cala, such things should not be allowed. Ridiculous. And one comes back to all this equally ridiculous nonsense about licences and ever more ridiculous nonsense of a denuncia being filed, which means that the police have to get involved, go investigate, hold things up in all likelihood. It is just so silly, but that is how it is here. Ridiculous and silly. Just build the damn apartments, and have done with it. They might even be to the benefit of Cala San Vicente, because I doubt that constantly moaning politicians are.


Bamboo on the beach
Remember my talking about the bamboo barriers for sand and the fact that there weren't any (17 December: Raising Sand)? Well, in Playa de Muro, at any rate, they've erected them again. Must have happened over the past couple of days. So, with a bit of luck, the sand will stay put - on the beach - which is the point of them. But why, if keeping the sand where it belongs, is so important, do they not put them up in November? Indeed, why not just keep them there all year? It's not as if there isn't wind in winter. Don't understand this. There again, all the detritus that has piled up on the beaches - and there seems to be much more than normal this winter - will have to be shifted at some point. That means a bulldozer or several. And that also means a whole load of sand being scooped up.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - "Belfast Child", Simple Minds (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFIMJxV2tjI). Today's title - who, and what was alternate? (Alternate, especially in the US, is widely used to mean alternative; in case you were wondering.)

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

Brothers, Sisters, Where Are You Now?

Does Mallorca never get snow? To see some of the reports the past couple of days, you would be forgiven for thinking that it is a once-in-a-generation event. Except it isn't. It is an at least once if not several times a winter event. But no, somehow space is there to be filled, so let's do so with some photos of those grey peaks, looking slightly less than grey and fairly white. Big deal.

It's also not as though it has hit really low temperatures or as though it has snowed at sea level. I have known it to be minus one and to be snowing (after a fashion) in Alcúdia and Playa de Muro. It was something of an apology for "snowing" - squalls of big sleet, if there is such a thing as big sleet. We have yet to experience anything comparable with that, but one thing that can be said, though, is that it does seem to have been a colder and wetter winter than normal. Even the locals are saying this, so it must be the case, I suppose.


Elsewhere, and rather less trivial than the nature of the weather and a few shots of some snowy mountains, there is news that the crusading judge - Balatasar Garzón - is stirring up the Francoist pot once more. This is the same judge who had wanted graves to be dug up as part of a campaign against former members of the Franco regime and era who might have committed crimes against humanity. A stop was put to that, so now it would appear that Judge Garzón has turned his attention to children of Republicans who were taken away from their parents. Perhaps you were unaware that this was another of the rather unpleasant aspects of the Franco period. They couldn't have the poor children of Spain growing up, tainted by left-wing thinking. Oh no, so they handed them over to the Falange and the Church, that double-header of liberal-minded orthodoxy, in order to get them thinking in the right ways. And of course many of the children and parents have never been and were never re-united.

Something you might also have been unaware of, until this was all reported yesterday in "The Times", was that there was a fair amount of racial purification knocking around in the post-Civil War era. Rather like the Nazis, there was even a manual devoted to the "eugenics of Hispanicity" and to the "regeneration of the race". So there you go, a thoroughly unpleasant bunch they truly were. I wonder, though, back then, if they were aware just how much Jewish and Muslim DNA lingers in contemporary Spaniards (and indeed Mallorcans). No, they almost certainly weren't.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Tremeloes (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVz0-tD5d44). Today's title - from a political song in a different context to that of Spain and the "stolen children".

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

Even The Bad Times Are Good

Everyone's looking for a bargain, everyone's looking to save some money. Natural, even when times are good, but at present ... it's how to make even the bad times good. Against the background of all the economic malaise comes the news, and this is probably not a surprise, that bookings for all-inclusive (AI) holidays are up - up quite significantly, according to "The Diario". While there are not figures specific to Mallorca or to any resort on the island, the paper is saying that, in the UK, reservations for AI are up by 17%, as the Brits indulge in their annual post-festivities holiday-purchasing bingeing. Crisis? What crisis? None. The holiday is a necessity, or had you not noticed?

The paper quotes ABTA as saying that there is some stigma attached to AI holidays and also says that, by comparison with the Brits, the Germans are less attracted to an AI holiday. On the first point, yep, you bet there's a stigma. Around here especially. And especially where some of the clientele is concerned - the chav ASBO cases and their kids having a crap in the pools. The paper, though, has a quite extraordinary caption to a photo that accompanies the article. It says, essentially, that tourists prefer the tranquility they are given by an AI holiday. Tranquility? Who the hell are they trying to kid? They should head off to likes of the Club Mac hotels in Alcúdia, have a walk around those at the height of summer. Tranquility? My arse. It's like an Hieronymous Bosch depiction of Bedlam. I have wondered, in the past, how well the media here understands the holiday business, and this probably tells me. They don't, or appear to have a less than full appreciation, put it that way. Rather like politicians, some of the media are too remote from what it is actually like on the ground - the ground, say, that forms The Mile in Alcúdia.

There are, of course, hotels that offer AI which are very nice. The Iberostars, for example. The big exclusive AIs, the ones everyone here knows about, do not come into this category. Though the demand for AI is up, and understandably so, I am a little surprised because it seemed the case last year that the AIs - in Alcúdia at any rate - were taking a bit of a hit. But it is understandable that holidaymakers go for AI. They know, more or less, the total sum of what they will pay. Even if it were to be proven that an AI was actually more expensive than, say, a self-catering plus the various out-of-hotel costs, chances are that the punter would still opt for it as he feels a degree of security in knowing that it's all paid for, despite the fact that he might end up with rubbish service and quality.

I've said before here that it is something of a no-brainer for the family on a tight budget to go AI. That doesn't mean to say that I believe that it is right for Mallorca; for Alcúdia or Can Picafort. It's the reality, and in 2009 it may become even more of a reality. Also in the article, there is a hoteliers' representative who says that hotels with AI offers in Mallorca "work very well". And there probably are, but I also know that there are hotel directors who would quite happily ditch AI.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Travis, "Closer" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2hYn_4yuhc). Today's title - decidedly average song from the summer of love; this group had split from their close-to-Bournemouth singer-leader.

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

Another Day, Another Year

Having been otherwise occupied when it put in its weekly appearance, I only got round to scanning through the most recent local "Euro Weekly News" the day before yesterday, and then via the paper's website and its virtual newspaper - or is that virtually a newspaper? Whatever. Something caught my eye; it was the page three story. So I saved it for future reference, i.e. to read yesterday. Having read it, I realised there was something not quite right. What was it? I went through it again, and then saw the small header above the actual article headline - "News Review 2008". That was it. The article was a year old. You see, everyone does a review of 2008. Euro Weekly, me, The Bulletin, everyone. The point was, though, that it took a while to penetrate my brain that what I was looking at was old news. Partly, this was because it was not very obvious that it was old news, and partly because the article could just as easily have been written this year. Indeed, the article was hugely coincidental because, in my review of 2008 (on 4 January), the first item for January last year was a thing about tour operators cutting capacity. And the article in Euro Weekly was on that very theme - TUI and Thomas Cook cutting large numbers of holidays from their 2008 Mediterranean programme, including of course Mallorca.

Now, this is the same story this year. Cuts to capacity, and everything's going to be dire. Of course, the economic situtation has deteriorated, but what was the reality last year? The major tour operators may indeed have set out by cutting capacity. It doesn't follow that they didn't sell similar amounts as the previous year, i.e. 2007. The point being that the tour operators, who, let's face it, are not stupid, take a look at the general climate and think, well maybe we should cut back on our commitment. And it is this that they do. It does not mean that they cannot get capacity back if there is demand. You can be assured that they will find capacity if it means being able to sell a holiday. So when you see all these grave warnings about tour operators slashing the numbers of holidays, just bear in mind that it may not be as it seems.

One other thing from the year-old EW piece was that the tour operators were planning on cutting the number of reps. This they are doing. Indeed, my understanding is that TUI wishes to make greater use of "remote" services, such as helplines, in replacing the number of reps who, let's be honest, don't always have a great reputation, and that can be because they are not given adequate information.


Break A Leg
Driving along the carretera in the vicinity of The Foxes Arms yesterday, who should I see with a raised bonnet of a knackered car but Jamie of the Foxes. Back from Australia. Not the car, that is. But there was a somewhat remarkable aspect that they - Jamie and Karen - ever got there, given that Karen decided to go and break an ankle at the airport before heading off and putting in twenty odd overs a day buffeted by the Freemantle doctor. You see, they're made of tough stuff in Leicester. And if anyone doesn't know what the reference to the Freemantle doctor is, then you don't know your cricket in Perth.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Morrissey (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IbJQ4YAPRo). Today's title - line from a song by a Glaswegian soft-rock band. Think hairy cornflake.

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

Every Day Is Like Sunday

For all the talk of hotel renovation work proceeding without licences having been granted - as was the case with the Son Moll hotel in Cala Ratjada where four workers lost their lives when it collapsed - when it comes to the blue-chip hotels, you can be pretty sure that everything's tickety-boo before one brick is laid or one sod of earth is turned by a mechanical digger. Take the Hotel Formentor, for example. For those who may not know, this is the exclusive pile on the Formentor peninsula, one about which much old eulogistic nonsense has been written in the past, a goodly portion of it on the hotel's own website, which now - sadly - appears to no longer exist; at least, I can't find it. But, never fear, because I have a cunning archive system and can give you an insight into the mangled and pompous English that some nutter came up with: “respecting the classical beauty of the Mediterranean landscape that surrounds it, the hotel does not refuse the modern life’s new-technological advances that assure comfort to its guests in every aspect”. There is a background historical aspect to the hotel, which is that it was opened as the Depression kicked in back in 1929. Omens not so good for renovation work now, I'd say.

In internet terms though, the hotel seems now to have been corporatised, finding itself featured on the Barceló site and having even been dubbed the Barceló Formentor. Anyway, the deal is that the hotel needs some renovation work doing, and has done for some while. Because it is so prestigious, or so it is alleged, what would otherwise be a matter of virtually zero interest, has become yet another political rumpus in the wider metropolis that is Pollensa and the fiefdom of Mayor Cerdà. The local politicos and, of course, enviro big-mouths, GOB, are all at it.

The latest is that the central environment ministry is demanding a wider environmental impact study than that which has so far been presented. It claims that there is a lack of information in respect of, for example, the swimming-pools with salt water that form part of the renovation and re-development. So far, so environmentally dull. However, the opposition Partido Popular in Pollensa is blaming the town hall administration not just for the need for a further study and for the greater constraints being imposed by the environmental ministry but also for a discrepancy in the annual municipal budget to the tune of some 600 grand, this being the tax for the re-development construction, an amount that has not been forthcoming because the town hall has not yet granted the licence.

At this point, it all gets rather confusing, and the mayor is attacking the PP over its demagoguery, or something like that. But what is quite interesting is that this case highlights exactly the sorts of issues as to why work goes ahead without licences. Firstly, there is the tax, which, one presumes, is heftier in this instance than would normally be so. Then there is the fact that the central environment ministry (to say nothing of that with responsibility for the coasts) has to have its say. Added to this is the hamstrung nature of the town hall who cannot give the go-ahead to the developers. And on top of that, the opposition and whatever other group has to have its say as well. You do begin to realise that, were it not for by-passing some of the regulations, nothing would get done here. The Formentor hotel is one of the best-known of the island's hotels not just of those in the area. Of course, they want to get it right, but just how long does it take to get things right?


Yesterday was a public holiday of course. It felt, like all public holidays, as though it was a Sunday. A dull, nothing-happening, grey Sunday (though for Spaniards something was happening). It will come as some consolation to those of you in icy Britain to know that yesterday's weather here was the precursor to a particularly cold snap. Snow as low as 100 metres today apparently; and it is cold and very, very wet. This is not as we have known recent Januarys, which have been generally fine. But that just goes to prove, again, that the local weather in winter is not something to be relied on. Winter tourism? Hmm.


Might I just say - thanks ever so much for all the best wishes following my unplanned Christmas entertainment. I'm feeling fine. In fact, I'm feeling better than I have for ages. Your emails have been much appreciated.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Ladytron, "Evil" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmLmiIXPRoY); and for "Destroy", because it is so great, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtqGoHouoE0. Today's title - no clue; easy.

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

At Your Leisure

Right, getting back to something like normality, not that matters round here can ever be described as being particularly normal. But here we go - the new year effectively starts here.

Know what the word "ocio" means? The answer is leisure, with an emphasis on activity. Muro town hall is putting up for bid some land designated to be used for "leisure" in Playa de Muro. The news reports don't actually spell out where this land is, but apparently it is currently not being used; to the tune of some 7,000 square metres not being used. I'm scratching my head. Where is this? Other than saying that it is located next to an important hotel area, it doesn't specify.

7,000 square metres. Sounds a fair amount of leisure I suppose. I can think of some plots, but none that immediately springs to mind in the main part of Playa de Muro. Down towards and in Alcúdia Pins though ... : I reckon this might be the land in front of the last Iberostar hotels before you hit the forest. That would be about 7,000. Then you think again, well actually it isn't that big a piece of land, despite the town hall reckoning that it will be a large area of leisure. The question of course is what they would do with the land. And here, one loses a bit of heart. The town hall itself doesn't have any firm ideas. The mayor says that it might be a minigolf. A minigolf. If it's not a full-blown golf course, it's a sodding minigolf. And this, we are led to believe, will - in the mayor's words - add dynamism to the tourist offer. Give me strength.

It's not as though minigolfs are not popular. There are many who lament the passing of the tropical variety of minigolf down Bellevue way some three years back. The Golf Fantasia is a good enough attraction in the south. No, there's nothing wrong per se. It's just that it's the same old thing; just like real golf is the same old thing. Bit of spare land, let's hit a small ball with a stick. Oh well, maybe they'll actually do something else. Whoever they are, as the town hall's looking for a minimum of just under a quarter of a million euros - not including the IVA (VAT) and plus the annual concession fee - to take the land off its hands.


There was this thing in yesterday's "Diario" about some old-trout tourist who has donated some 20 grand to an association in Calvià known as SOS Animal which protects and cares for abandoned cats and dogs. It wasn't actually her personal moolah, but that raised through the sale of second-hand goods somewhere in the depths of the shires of England, i.e. Worcestershire. One has, probably quite mistakenly, an image of stout walking shoes, tweeds and giving the master of the local hounds a thorough ear-bashing and a sound thrashing with a walking cane.

I find this charity malarkey all rather difficult, I'll be honest. Difficult because I know I'm likely to offend and to give off an impression that I don't care for animals, which I do. But I really do wonder what many locals make of what they probably see as interfering foreigners involving themselves in animal-welfare matters. It's not as if this is an isolated example. It most certainly is not. At times, one senses that there is a whole army of Brit expats, many of them at a stage of advanced troutdom, wandering the bars of Mallorca with a tin for some animal or other charity. Why? The answer is complex. They haven't got anything better to do. It makes them feel important or acts as a lever for some other purpose. Some have a missionary zeal, believing that the locals are there for the converting - to the word of St. Francis. There are, of course, those who are genuinely altruistic, and the lady in Worcestershire is undoubtedly one of these, though of course she is only a tourist. But there are others ... No, not so sure as to the motives.


But I shouldn't be so uncharitable. Today is the big day in the local Christmas fortnight. Three Kings. The day of giving pressies. Yesterday evening, the Kings - not the same ones in every venue - arrived across the island, in the likes of Puerto Alcúdia, ferried there on a very biblical and nativity-style Submarine Vision boat. And after today, we can really start to get back to normality. The grinding normality of the remainder of winter. Except. There is another fiesta. A week or so's time. Always a fiesta.


QUIZ
Today's title - from a single by one of the great electro-pop acts, known best for "destroy(ing) everything you touch".

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

A Look At 2009

A pox on intensive care units and all that. Part of the problem is that all the end-of-year/start-of-new-year jollities that I had lined up are starting, even after a mere fiver of '09, to seem a tad old hat. So, certain things have been abandoned for this year, such as the annual awards ceremony, save for the musical tributes. All those who won something in 2007 can assume that they can carry on for a further year; I give you my permission. But rather than dwell too much on the past, let's look forward to what will be a glorious year.

Oh no, it won't.

I have started switching off or turning over whenever anything about the economic mess crops up. A further assumption - it's going to be crap, generally speaking, during 2009. I don't know that this takes much thinking about or indeed quibbling with. But what other predictions can be made for 2009? I have counselled the great and good, and here are some thoughts:

The whole of Puerto Pollensa will be pedestrianised, except for buses, and the new bus station will be located in the church square - that part of it that hasn't already been turned into an ice rink. Bony will become the bus-station café, and passengers will be charged 5 euros to use a seat. Don't cry! In a new money-raising venture, the town hall agrees to accept a large wedge from Grupo Boulevard and re-names the resort Puerto Dakota.

The British Government, as part of its anti-obesity drive, realises that a major contribution to the nation's lard mountain is the Alcúdia and Can Picafort all-inclusive. A short waddle from the lift to the pool, and that's the exercise for the day, save for one belly-flop that creates a parting of the pool's waves. Otherwise, the only other movements of the already lard-bucket chav ASBO cases are to raise an arm in order to cram ever more pizza and grease and watered-down lager and, therefore ever more fatness, into their gobs, from which emanates some occasional vomit or an admonishing shout directed at a hideous and equally voluminous offspring as it prepares to shit in the aforementioned pool. Step forward, consequently, HM Government with an order via Brussels to ban all all-inclusives.

The economic crisis will hit the annual fiestas hard. Firework displays are cancelled, but everyone is given a sparkler.

Alcúdia's Mile will be decreed a site of international heritage and cultural importance. And because they can't raise the money to effect the re-development, the old power station, rather than a science and technology museum, will become a giant bouncy castle.

Albufera is turned into the world's largest water theme park. And just to make things more interesting, they release a bunch of crocodiles as well.

The decision on the train extension from Sa Pobla is made at last. Fed up with all the squabbling in Alcúdia over the route and the terminal, they opt to send the train to Can Picafort instead. That'll learn 'em.


Top Songs of 2008
As you may have noticed, there is a certain musical theme to this blog. Quite why I've never been entirely sure, other than the fact that I happen to like many of the songs that appear as titles to entries - not all, like Status Quo obviously - but for the most part yes. Last year there was a best of, and so following on from Laura Veirs and Plant & Krauss in 2007, here is this year's lot.

The top five songs. Tricky. Strong claims from the likes of Brian Wilson, British Sea Power, Goldfrapp, Hercules and Love Affair but here they are:

Asteroids Galaxy Tour, "The Sun Ain't Shining No More" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTuAXV8WyuI (Danish retro-pop-soul-psychedelicists. Still can't help feeling this has a sound of The Happy Mondays.)

Fleet Foxes, "Mykonos" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qhosbxpjZSw (What does the last part of this remind you of? America? Crosby, Stills and Nash?)

Headless Heroes, "The North Wind Blew South" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGgRlgySh_M (This song was written by a chap called Philamore Lincoln. Who he? An obscure British artist from the early '70s.)

Paul McCartney with Youth, "Sing The Changes" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvuOoLAo7X8 (Who said that Macca couldn't be contemporary? As "The Fireman", combines with ex-Orb producer and Killing Joke Youth.)

Ting Tings, "That's Not My Name" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UX0p7uAW2s (Just such a great song. Loads of life and attitude.)


And the winner is ... strange, evocative and luscious - Headless Heroes.

And album. Many to choose from, but pipping Goldfrapp and MGMT is Elbow's "The Seldom Seen Kid".


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

The Alcudia Pollensa Blogspot's Review of 2008

Rather later than I had anticipated, owing to unforeseen circumstances (see yesterday), here is ...

A YEAR IN BLOGGING - 2008

This is the blog's review of 2008, a year that was to become characterised and dominated by economic crisis. The property market and construction industry took a hammering, while tourism - if floundering in some sectors and some resorts - just about kept the economy ticking over. It was a year also of scandals involving politicians, controversies surrounding the planned rail extension to Alcúdia and the pedestrianisation of the front line in Puerto Pollensa. It was a year of poor weather during the first weeks of the season and of disastrous rains in December, which were a factor in the tragic deaths of workers at a hotel in Cala Ratjada. Spain became European football champions and a British businessman known as "The Plumber" seemed to be the salvation for Real Mallorca football club. Alcúdia town hall had some big ideas for the beach, but not everyone knew about them, including the tourist information staff. And the blog made famous a youtube act from Derby.


January
The year started with some anxiety. The main tour operators announced cuts in capacity, just as they have already for 2009. But people still came, and somehow they found the extra beds. Don't believe it's all gloom when the tour operators talk of capacity cuts. They'll get it back if there is demand. (5 January: There May Be Trouble Ahead).

It's all in the water. And it was what was in the water that was the issue, together with lousy communication. Playa de Muro had a nitrates problem. (6 January: Tap Turns On The Water).

The British Consul was in discussion with the president of the Balearic Government, Francesc Antich, as to how short-break and winter tourism could be improved. Why would a British Government representative be looking to assist tourism to somewhere that wasn't Britain? (9 January: Our Man In Palma).

Estate agencies were closing down all over the place. There were way too many of them and way too little movement in the market to sustain them. (18 January: A Taste Of Honey).


February
A twentieth anniversary had been celebrated on 28 January - twenty years since Albufera had been declared a protected nature park. (3 February: In A Silent Way).

The strange Son Serra de Marina was the subject of a political attack by the opposition in the town hall of Santa Margalida. Local services were poor or almost non-existent and poor policing had led to numerous burglaries. (4 February: In The Middle Of Nowhere).

Plans were afoot to turn the Lago Esperanza (the big lake in Puerto Alcúdia) into a centre for canoeing. (11 February: Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating).

Once more, there was an announcement of a crackdown on illegal holiday lets, with the internet to be a key source for inspectors hunting down such accommodation. (18 February: Your Private Chancer).

The tourist authorities do some very odd things. The Spanish National Tourist Board came up with a definition of the tourist that ... well, basically covered everyone. Extraordinary. (26 February: We Were One).

Pickpocketing. Pickpocketing and the carnation bearers. And I was too slow off the mark to stop it happening. (29 February: Pick A Pocket Or Two).


March
The Spanish national election returned Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero for a second term. Personally, I thought it was a result. But then, what do I know? (10 March: And The Winner Is ...).

Alcúdia town hall announced that there would be a WiFi zone and other new treats on the beach, including a so-called chill-out area. Unfortunately, no-one much noticed. (11 March: Beach Baby Beach).

Impropriety of different types was never far from the surface. A Palma councillor used public money for his own ends (or should that be "end"?) - much of it with rent boys. (16 March: It's A Scandal).

And word came that sex tourism in the Balearics was worth up to 400 million euros a year. (23 March: Life For Rent).


April
Michael Winner was one of the guests at Andrew Lloyd-Webber's 60th birthday do in Deía. The superbly and hilariously obnoxious Winner was for once gracious; he declared that Mallorca was "foodie heaven". (8 April: Gives A Meal Man Appeal).

Golf was often in the spotlight. "The Bulletin" revealed that Mallorca was close to golf-saturation point, while the actual number of registered players was lower than in other parts of Spain. And they wanted to build more courses? (8 April: Gives A Meal Man Appeal).

The latest tourist craze was about to take off and about to knock people off the streets of Alcúdia. Segways had arrived. (13 April: I Did It Seg Way).

Puerto Pollensa was regularly under the microscope. But I had never realised how much it was seen as a potential drawback for children and their futures. (17 April: Wonderland).

The new parking area in Puerto Pollensa was opened. Not that it helped to alleviate the town's parking problems and was later criticised for getting flooded and having poor access. (26 April: Put Up A Parking Lot).

The Can Ramis re-development in Alcúdia town ground to a halt because the builders went bust, and there was a slight problem with the town hall and its budgeting for the project. (28 April: Can The Can)


May
The season under way, there were problems with the provision of sunbeds and parasols. Cala San Vicente was one place, as was Puerto Pollensa. (7 May: A Bit Of R'n'R).

The coastal road between Alcúdia and Puerto Pollensa was another regular item. The pedestrianisation nonsense was yet to arise, but before it dominated the news came the idea that the whole of the road could be closed and made into beach. (9 May: Road To Nowhere).

The weather during the first weeks of the season was awful. It remained so until around the middle of June. (11 May: Wet, Wet, Wet).

The Mallorcan tourist authorities came up with a truly daft set of slogans to try and promote "alternative" types of tourism. "Much more than golf" was one of them. (13 May: More Than Words).

Controversy of a racist sort when Romanians were barred from a computer shop in Alcúdia. (14 May: Not Welcome).

Chinese bazars were springing up all over the place and weren't to everyone's liking because they were taking away business. There were later to be reports of fines and raids against such shops. (17 May: The Chinese Way).

Residents along The Mile would have been shocked to have woken up and found a car in the canal. A woman driver was killed in an horrific way. (19 May: The Canal Accident Story).

The weather just kept on getting worse and the air of gloom was not helped by the first sounds of the word "recession", as in holiday sales to the Balearics from the UK had gone into recession - and the season had barely just begun. (24 May: What Have I Done To Deserve This?)

The British Consul looked to do his bit for tourism, heading up a think-tank which was due to get together again in September. Er. Did I miss something? (30 May: Feelings).


June
Pollensa town hall complained that its stupid c-cedilla symbol was its own, as in a registered logo. It was a strange year for Pollensa town hall. (1 June: The Letter).

The Germans were told to give Puerto Pollensa a miss. Why? Because it was full of Brits. (4 June: Hans Play With Lotte, Lotte Plays With Jane).

Alternative tourism? Maybe so, if you define tourism from Poland as alternative. And the Poles were on a mission to take over Cala San Vicente. (7 June: But I Could Have Told You, Vincent).

Heading towards the middle of June, and there was the lorry drivers' strike, outrage at the activities of holiday club touts in Puerto Alcúdia, and the first talk of a British takeover at Real Mallorca (12 June: Club Tropicana, Drinks Are Free).

The politics of language took to the air with demands that Air Berlin use Catalan. (14 June: Where The Air Is Rarefied).

Economic hard times started to bite. News came that the Balearic Government was going to pump in 1000 million euros, most of it for the construction industry. (25 June: It's Just A Rumour That Was Spread Around Town).

There was controversy as to the siting of the rail extension from Sa Pobla to Alcúdia, It seemed as though it had been sorted. It hadn't been - and isn't. (26 June: Came Down The Track And She Blew).

And this blog, through its quiz, introduced to the world, and advanced his youtube views no end, one Dimple Diamond who came up in respect of the answer to the above - (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4)

The train rumpus rumbled along, and then there was another aspect of public transport - the new road in Puerto Pollensa opened. And we never saw what that would result in. (28 June: You've Got A Smiling Face).

Celebration time ... Spain won the Euros. But elsewhere in the sport-related world, there was a spat between Rafael Nadal and the Balearic Government. (29 June: Tonight I'm Gonna Party Like It's ...).


July
ACOTUR, the organisation that represents tourist businesses, sent letters of complaint to Alcúdia town hall regarding the activities of illegal street sellers and PRs. (5 July: Lucky, Lucky, Lucky).

And the activities of these street sellers - the lucky-lucky or looky-looky men - were highlighted, especially their drug dealing. (6 July: Papa's Got A Brand New (Lucky) Bag).

Mallorca seemed to be too expensive. A beer for instance. So there was another call for price controls. (11 July: Set The Controls).

The summer was not going well for some. Souvenir shops were reporting drastically lower sales, Spanair was in crisis (and was to suffer more when one of its planes crashed), and political questions were being asked about the impact of all-inclusive hotels. (19 July: Tears For Souvenirs).

Desperation was apparent in the property sector. Lack of sales, developers going under and a splurge of publicity to try and sell plots on a local development. (21 July: Summertime Blues).

The Palma metro, closed for almost a year because of its problems with flooding, was set to finally re-open. (25 July: Down In The Tube Station At Midnight).

President Antich announced measures to help the ailing Balearic economy, while in Playa de Muro there was a fuss about arrangements for the annual fiesta. (31 July: Watching And Waiting, Anticipating ...).


August
Turnover in bars and restaurants was down by some 20% and some establishments were operating shorter hours, with Alcúdia and Can Picafort particularly affected. (4 August: Down, Down, Deeper And Down).

The chill-out zone on Puerto Alcúdia's beach was attracting interest. I went to find it, but the tourist information office didn't know of its existence. When I did find it, it was singularly underwhelming. (8 August: A Secret Place).

Hotels that one might have expected not to be the sort that would be making offers were doing just that - in August. And in Puerto Pollensa, the grumbles were starting. (20 August: Gonna Make You An Offer You Can't Refuse).

The Dakota Tex-Mex restaurants of Puerto Pollensa were the target for much criticism, but did they deserve it? And the first announcement came of the pedestrianisation scheme in the port. (25 August: Badlands).

And dog mess was another thing exercising the minds of Puerto Pollensa folk, so I went and had a look - or was that look out? Meanwhile, kitesurfers were warned that they could face fines. (28 August: Day At The Dog Races).


September
Flags were an issue in Playa de Muro. Flags specifically associated with Franco. And word came that use of the WiFi zone along Puerto Alcúdia's beach had been less than great. (1 September: This Is Not A Story, This Is Not A Book).

Unemployment in the hotel sector was up by 28%. And Paul Davidson ("The Plumber") was in the due-diligence phase that was meant to have led up to his acquisition of Real Mallorca football club. (3 September: Think I'll Buy Me A Football Team).

Something for the winter. A hundred thousand European OAPs were set to descend as a boost to winter tourism. Or was it? (The number turned out to be lower.) And it was announced that pine trees would be sprayed to try and kill off the processionary caterpillars. (5 September: The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore).

The centre at the Son Real finca by Can Picafort opened, Pollensa town hall was in a muddle with its accounts and the Real Mallorca takeover saga was described as a soap opera. (6 September: Nothing Is Real).

The pedestrianisation story in Puerto Pollensa moved into new territory. European law in respect of consultation and the environment was being invoked. (24 September: The Long And Whining Road).

Alcúdia town hall announced a whole host of by-laws and fines against the likes of street selling and street drinking, some of which could affect tourists. (26 September: Did You Have To Pay That Fine?).

More bad news as far as business revenues were concerned. Reps were being allowed to go home early. The banking crisis was upon us. And the pedestrianisation finally got under way. (30 September: The Road To Ruin).


October
Credit was becoming an ever more serious issue, and there was confusion as to what constituted the pedestrianisation and that caused by road signs that persisted in giving misleading instruction. (5 October: Relax? Won't Do It).

Paul Davidson finally seemed to have bought Real Mallorca - it all turned out to be wrong of course - but I analysed a number of issues in respect of this acquisition. (7 October: Match Of The Day).

Scandal. Ever more scandal. Now money was being found stashed away in gardens. And there appeared to be some who actually supported the pedestrianisation scheme. (8 October: My Secret Garden).

There was a story that never was, which was that the parking near the nautical club in Puerto Pollensa was to be closed, while in Alcúdia there was a presentation of the project for the transformation of the old power station - the only problem was that they hadn't got the money in place. (23 October: (Car) Parklife).


November
I met representatives of a new association for British and Irish residents and businesses. It was all such a seemingly worthy idea, but grant money that was meant to have been forthcoming to get it started still hasn't materialised. (1 November: We Fade To Grey).

The tourism authorities announced that there had been an increase in the number of illegal holiday lets they had discovered. And for many here, Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand were an altogether more important subject. (9 November: You Shouldn't Do That).

There was a seven-hour power cut (that was later to have been discovered to have been caused by a short-circuit). And the Paul Davidson takeover at Real Mallorca finally ended in tears, as many had predicted. (14 November: Piper At The Gates Of Dawn).

I spoke with Garry Bonsall of the Gotmar Residents Association and a prime mover against the pedestrianisation scheme and in challenging Pollensa's mayor. (19 November: One Voice).

The Balearic Government announced that special financing would be available to hoteliers to effect improvements. It was a move to help the hotels and also the construction industry. (26 November: Due To Lack Of Interest).

And the government was set to use Rafael Nadal as the face of tourism promotion. (28 November: The Face).


December
Several mayors and ex-mayors were implicated in another scandal, but they were to be acquitted after a two-week trial. (1 December: Wild Horses).

The tourism minister was asking the media to behave responsibly in its reporting of the 2009 tourist season. It was not going to be a disaster - said he. (6 December: You Ain't Got No Responsibility).

Agatha Christie was revealed as the new "image" of British tourism promotion in Puerto Pollensa. Her association with the resort seemed rather tenuous. (11 December: The Murder Mystery).

The luxury hotel at and expansion of Pollensa golf course was announced, though no date had been set for starting work. (15 December: Live This Life Of Luxury).

And another hotel, Son Moll in Cala Ratjada, collapsed during renovation works, killing four workers. (19 December: Licence To Kill).


QUIZ
Last time - Feargal Sharkey (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNggHbc3qio).

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

A Good Heart These Days Is Hard To Find

So, how was your Christmas? Your New Year? Want to know about mine?

Remember last time my saying that I'd be back on 27 December unless something major happened - in the meantime. By that, I had meant that I would have made a reappearance if, let's say, a small nuclear device had taken out Pollensa on Christmas Day - something of that nature. It had of course been my intention to return on 27 December, but something did happen. Not quite as I'd envisaged. Was your Christmas Eve pretty hectic? Shooting around for last-minute presents? Stocking up on the sherry and mince pies? There was my own list of things to do. After the 9am appointment, there was the rest of the day for all those last-minute bits and pieces. That wasn't how the rest of the day went. Want to know what happened? There was that appointment. It was a stress test. Treadmill. Cardiologist. I had a heart attack.

It was a Division Two attack of an Aldershot v. Macclesfield nature; it wasn't in the Premier League massive of a Chelsea and Man U, but attack it still was, though it took till Boxing Day for a doctor to actually state that it was. By then, I had been dripped, glycerined, glucosed, painkillered, multi-sucker-contacted to a monitor, punctured with warfarin, "electro"-ed several times a day and had, alarmingly, almost bled to death when the drip became disconnected.

Heart attack. Fuck me. What a pain. Literally. Except it sounds worse than it was. There are degrees and types captured under this one collective-style term. One of the numerous and anonymous doctors to have passed through my consciousness in the past few days said that there is an issue with terminology. Great. I am reassured. I suffered an attack of semantics. Nevertheless, they stuck this catheter into my arm and then into my heart. I'm told that lethal injections used for execution and those for committing euthanasia create a burning pain in the arm. I guess the local anaesthetic they use for performing an angiogram is just a milder form. And once it was all done, my body was zapped and there was more fleetingly stinging heat. I expected to see a blue glow around me as though the Doctor's sonic screwdriver was in the process of semi-vaporising me. All I had to show for it in the end was a pin-prick in the wrist where the catheters had entered; oh and the movie on the surgeon's screen. I wouldn't recommend it. It was just a lot of grey and some darker things that looked like worms wriggling about.

It was the second night in the intensive care unit at the Palmaplanas clinic that really did it. This was the night after the angiogram. The previous one I had asked a nurse if I was indeed in a hospital. Yes, she said, which you would of course expect her to say. Oh, because I thought it was a factory. All these people, the bright lights into the early morning, the noise. She eventually gave me a sleeping-pill and then I was woken up again two hours later. But the previous nights of broken or little sleep climaxed that night after the op. I started to hallucinate and to have fantasy half-awake half-asleep visions. I was convinced that it was a factory. All those people. It was the "Invasion Of The Bodysnatchers", or human experiments; I had been reading James Patterson's "When The Wind Blows". The others in the ICU cubicles were not there because of insurance-company authorisation but because they had security clearance. And I would tug at the contacts to make the machine ring out. In alarm mode, it sounded like wind chimes. It was a pretty noise above the shouts of some of those who had received security clearance - more fool they - and the drone of the air-conditioning.

Finally, I was rescued and taken to a room with a large window and - oh joy, after a week of bed washes, the vague smell of piss and ever more greasy hair - a shower. I stood under it for twenty minutes. Didn't move. And grinned. I wasn't connected to any more machines. There were no more plasters. Someone had said to me that maybe it was the best Christmas present I could have had. Maybe they were right. And it had, after all, only been a minor attack.


QUIZ
Last time - Laura Veirs, "To The Country". Go here, and click the MP3 link to listen:
http://stereogum.com/archives/mp3/new-laura-veirs-to-the-country_004728.html. Today's title - a cracker from a reconstructed ex-punk.

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


Index for December 2008

Agatha Christie - 11 December 2008
Beaches - 17 December 2008
Building licences - 18 December 2008, 19 December 2008, 20 December 2008, 22 December 2008
Bus station - 14 December 2008
Cala Ratjada hotel tragedy - 18 December 2008, 19 December 2008, 20 December 2008, 22 December 2008
Catalan - 14 December 2008, 18 December 2008
Christmas 2008 - 20 December 2008
Classified ads - 9 December 2008
Corruption - 8 December 2008, 12 December 2008
Dictionaries - 1 December 2008
Digital television - 14 December 2008
Dogs - 10 December 2008
Driving - 5 December 2008
El Gordo - 23 December 2008
Environment - 7 December 2008
ETA - 18 December 2008
GOB - 7 December 2008
Golf - 4 December 2008, 5 December 2008, 15 December 2008, 22 December 2008
Hotels - 7 December 2008, 15 December 2008, 18 December 2008, 19 December 2008, 20 December 2008, 22 December 2008
IB3 - 12 December 2008
Language - 13 December 2008, 14 December 2008, 18 December 2008
Local democracy - 8 December 2008
Lottery - 23 December 2008
Mayors - 1 December 2008, 8 December 2008, 22 December 2008
Music - 21 December 2008
Pedestrianisation - 13 December 2008
Playa de Muro - 2 December 2008, 22 December 2008
Police - 5 December 2008
Puerto Pollensa associations - 9 December 2008, 10 December 2008
Rafael Nadal - 14 December 2008
Real Mallorca - 4 December 2008, 10 December 2008, 12 December 2008
Restaurants - 3 December 2008
Sand - 17 December 2008
Scandal - 1 December 2008, 16 December 2008
Season 2009 - 6 December 2008
Social tourism - 4 December 2008
Son Bosc - 5 December 2008, 22 December 2008
Spanishness - 3 December 2008, 13 December 2008, 21 December 2008
Sports personality - 16 December 2008
Television - 12 December 2008
Tour operators - 6 December 2008
Tourism - 4 December 2008, 6 December 2008, 7 December 2008, 18 December 2008
Tourism promotion - 11 December 2008, 13 December 2008
Town halls - 8 December 2008, 19 December 2008
Weather - 16 December 2008, 17 December 2008
Websites - 2 December 2008
Winter tourism - 15 December 2008, 16 December 2008

The Heavenly Stars, The Heavenly Stars

Three days before Christmas, and you might expect that bars, restaurants and shops would be alive with Yuletide muzak. Some are, but yesterday there was another form of song - if song is the right word. Singing by numbers. Small children, trussed up as though at a wedding or communion or junior Strictly Come Dancing, hold numbers and chant them as they cross the stage with almost reverential and quasi-religious but flat Gregorianism. This is "El Gordo", the annual lottery - the fat or big one - and its marathon presentation; fatuous and bloated might be more accurate. Tuneless and monotonous, how can noventa cinco or cuarenta tres be made melodic. The answer is that they cannot. Only if Leonard Cohen had penned a song of the times tables and found it Cowell-ised as a number one might numbers be the stuff of popular song; and even then it would be doubtful. Wherever one went yesterday, there, in a corner, was a TV set with these mini adults and their grating alleged singing. Even my bank manager(ess) was following it on the internet. It does perhaps come to something when senior bank staff are hanging on the very number of the lottery. There is not a lot of business, she admitted to me. Someone, or some people, will have had their prayers answered yesterday. The tickets cost that much that syndicates in local neighbourhoods comprise the majority of the gamblers. I was not one to have had any prayers answered, as I hadn't offered any; I didn't have a ticket. Mallorca and Spain came to a stop for some of yesterday. The efforts of the national football team may have done similarly at the end of June this year, but that achievement and expression of national pride was nothing compared with the prospect of millions of euros. Hark the herald lottery sings.


It shouldn't surprise me, but it does. The people who contact me and where they are from. By definition of course, the internet is world-wide, and so are those who follow the blog or come to it. The other day I had another contact from Australia. A chap called Stephen who had come across what I had done about the "politics of language" and tourism. He is doing a PhD in just that subject. Fascinating stuff, at least I thought so, and no doubt so does he and his academic supervisor. So, in the spirit of this global reach, may I take the opportunity to wish all those of you, from whichever country, who come to this blog and support it with your comments and feedback and just your reading, a very happy Christmas. And maybe even one of you has won a local lottery. A few days off; I shall be back on 27 December unless something major happens in the meantime.


The forecast suggests a change for Christmas Day, but at present it is clear. And at night the sky is a magician's show. The heavenly stars glow and vibrate. It is close to freezing, and one can almost imagine snow, the saw-teeth of holly and a choir of all is calm, all is bright. As the evening becomes tomorrow, the road is silent. The pines at the edge of Albufera appear as genial fluffy clouded puff-monsters silhouetted in the darkness. A night bird calls. And the power station throbs, a lowing cow by a distant manger. There goes a late plane across the speckled blackness and now a shooting star. It races from nowhere and disappears as quickly as it arrived. And once again it is silent, a silent night, and the heavenly stars twinkle on, and maybe that shooting star was something, someone, else. Who knows? Maybe it was him, a bearded man with large boots. Happy Christmas, everyone.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Bruce Hornsby (And The Range). Today's title - a line from what was this blog's song of the year in 2007.

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

That's Just The Way It Is

There was a very revealing report in "The Diario" yesterday. The paper had spoken with mayors around the island and discovered a universal admission that works related to hotel renovations occur without licences having been granted. The typical period of time needed to go through the licensing process is six months - at least. The mayor of Alcúdia was one who admitted that this happened. The reasons for this revolve around the lack of qualified personnel to hurry along the process and the necessity of dealing with other agencies, most notably the ministries for the environment and the coasts. Miquel Ferrer, Alcúdia's mayor, emphasised that, regardless of the licence situation, works had to be undertaken with the correct levels of safety.

This is the context, therefore, of the Son Moll hotel collapse in Cala Ratjada. The town hall of Capdepera, that under which Cala Ratjada falls, is by no means the only administration that "allows" (inverted commas stressed) these works to go ahead. The admission by the mayors, which will come as absolutely no surprise but is nevertheless extremely significant, throws into relief the background to the tragedy of the deaths of the workers at Son Moll. The point is that it is pretty much accepted practice that work happens without licences being in place. It may not be right, but virtually it is the de facto state of affairs - the way it is. The Son Moll case has merely acted to highlight what has been going on and does go on.

One has to ask the question. Was the absence of a licence the cause of the accident? This is obviously one for the investigators. But if all other procedures were in order, as is being claimed, can the lack of a licence really be held as a contributory or crucial factor, especially when such a lack is known to be a fact of building works for hotels? The general workers union has been arguing that the mayor of Capdepera should be indicted for not preventing the renovation at Son Moll. Maybe it has a point, but the union will know, as well as anyone else, what the system is.

We're getting into deep legal water, so I don't intend to go far, but the licence issue may just be, if not an irrelevance, then a less-than-crucial factor. I said the other day that the case reflects a societal failure - one of accepting that certain rules have to be, how can I put it, massaged. But it demonstrates also an administrative failure. When the Balearic Government announced that it would seek to reduce bureaucracy in order to facilitate the zero- or low-interest-financed modernisations of hotels, one hotelier expressed his doubts that the town halls would be quite so amenable. Yet, it isn't just the town halls. This appears to be a multi-agency failure, and one possibly with a degree of turf wars amongst the various bodies and their organisational cultures.

If one takes Alcúdia as an example - and remember that it was in Alcúdia that Sunwing went ahead with a modernisation and received a hefty fine for doing so - imagine what would happen if all the hotels applied for a licence to undertake works? Total logjam. Consider just how many hotels there are, not just in Alcúdia, but across the island. Their renovations are a part of the wider construction industry, one upon which the island's economy is so dependent. Yet, the administrative system behind the industry cannot cope. It's small wonder that work goes ahead without all the relevant permissions. And everyone appears to know that this is so. How many other modernisations are currently in progress across the island that are similar to Son Moll? If indeed it is the case that the owners filed their application in August, one might say that they should have waited till the end of the 2009 season before proceeding - by which time, one presumes, the licence would have been effected. But that would lengthen even further an already drawn-out process. Businesses and indeed the whole economy cannot be stalled or held hostage by the inadequacy of the administrative system.

It has taken the deaths of the men at Son Moll to bring the whole licence issue to the fore. It should now be down to the Balearic Government to resolve how the system of licensing can be made more efficient. I wish them luck.


Yesterday was a day for revealing stories. "The Diario" has also turned up something in respect of the projected golf development on the Son Bosc finca in Muro. And that is ... The mayor of Muro, who has supported the development, has a business association with the head of the Garden hotels group, which in turn is one of the companies that has a major shareholding in another company - Golf Playa de Muro. Another local hotel chain - Grupotel - is also a shareholder.

The mayor says that he has "no relation to or direct interest in the golf course". The exact business association is that he is a member of a further company, one in the name of the head of Garden hotels, with the same Inca address, but one established for activities on the mainland. In this respect, he doesn't. The connection to the golf development is, therefore, rather distant in terms of the companies involved, but the mere fact of any association is bound to raise questions. And that is what the paper has done. No-one is suggesting anything untoward, but the mayor's independence when it comes to what is a controversial development may appear to have been compromised.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Madonna, "La Isla Bonita". Today's title - American best known, well only really known, for this.

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

Your Spanish Lullaby

BEING SPANISH - PART EIGHT (MUSIC)

"Well, I'm looking forward to some really good Spanish music."

Amongst the wish-lists brandished about by expectant EasyJet embarkers, attached to Leona Lewis via an MP3 player at Luton Airport, sun and crates of Saint Mick would loom large at number one and two spots, but music - Spanish music - would not even enter the top ten, pop-pickers. Earlier in this series, I listed - rather foolishly - music as an element which goes to forge an impression of being Spanish. So having done so, I challenge myself to come up with a good reason why I did list it ...

No. I'm struggling.

There are certain popular cultural images that the holidaymaker may hold prior to jetting off: Premier League football, Coronation Street and a full English - oh, hang on, what am I saying? - that should be sangria, sombreros and straw donkeys. But music, except in the smooth and swivel of the Iglesias family, would register as strongly as curling up with Dostoevsky on a Saturday evening rather than watching "X Factor", i.e. it wouldn't. At least with Julio and Enrique there are two acts, which is one more than when it used only to be Los Bravos. Some might argue the case for Sylvia ("Y Viva España") except, of course, she was in fact Swedish. There is Spanish music, but for the most part - and quite understandably - most holidaymakers would rather not subject themselves to the miserabilist caterwauling of classical flamenco singing. What they're likely to get served up, and X Factor is not irrelevant in this respect, is the Spanish equivalent wannabe-ing, factotum-impersonation everyone's a star, or not, but with a swarthy look (the males) and a sultry demeanour (the females). What it isn't, except by association through Iglesias (Enrique, normally) and some Latino beat, is particularly Spanish. What it is, and the same applies to X Factor, is lowest common denominator nothing music. Formulaic and non-descript. Oh, there is always some folk singing of a local sort, the type to which the visitor applauds politely and then heads off to the nearest hotel or show bar in search of a tribute act. Alternatively, there is always the wonder of the Spanish guitar. But put, albeit that this would be unlikely, Paco de Lucia on the stage at your typical 3-star, and the reps would be inundated with complaints.

The best of Spanish music - de Lucia, the contemporary cross-overs from flamenco, the chill of Café del Mar, the genuine salsa style and its expression in current-day dance - is largely ignored. And it's ignored because, unless one goes to a club that plays it, it is unlikely to be heard, while it is also as unlikely to have ever appeared on that pre-flight wish-list.

Music should be a raw ingredient of a summer holiday. Well, it is. It is just that it lacks almost any Spanish context. It is Abba and the modern musical and X Factor-styled, boys and girls, so-called family entertainment of an almost universally average standard. The desire to be entertained is on that wish-list. It has become a pre-requisite for many. Yet, what is served up is generally something you wouldn't otherwise leave home for. You'd watch X Factor instead: just as average but with more cynicism, viciousness and mobile-based revenue for the producers. In truth, it falls into the something-to-do category, a way of filling an evening. It is Polyfilla for the mind in the same way as flopping in front of whatever happens to be on the TV binds the cracks of vacant inter-aural space. And like TV, it helps to avoid the need for overly much interpersonal communication or the creation of one's own entertainment. Them were the days, when we'd gather round the piano and sing together. But, you know, Spanish it may not be necessarily be (indeed rarely or ever), and much as it may attract the opprobrium of some, karaoke is the making of entertainment. Spanish music, no. Just make your own, whatever it is and whether you're any good or not. Oh, and if you want Spanish music at Christmas, bear in mind what I mentioned yesterday - a Felipe Spector Navidad.


Twelve Days of a Mallorcan Christmas

By way of an explanation for yesterday's "song":

God forbid there were twelve: Leapy Lee is the island's leading one-hit wonder celebrity, and his leaping did seem to fit in with the original. Eleven million: about the annual number of tourists to the island. Ten Elvis Presleys: the number of Elvis impersonators one can find of a summer's evening (actually, I've made the number up, but Elvises are ubiquitous). Nine mayors, in fact four mayors and five ex-mayors were implicated in another "scandal"; they were let off in this case. The eight Catalan winds of the Mediterranean, the Tramuntana, Mestral etc.; sometimes they all seem to be blowing at once. Seven knocking-shops: the number of "relax" houses in Alcúdia. Six dogs: could be any number in truth. Five euros a pint: yep, you can pay this. Four scratch cards: you only need one, but four and you really have been suckered into the holiday club clutches. Three tex-mexs: the number of Dakota restaurants in Puerto Pollensa - for now. Two parking spots: the number needed by Mallorcans in order to park one car in car parks. And a processionary caterpillar: the thing that destroys pines and can fall on you and sting if you're unlucky.


QUIZ
Today's title - Spanish made as pop, and who better to have done this than a part-Italian American. It's a line from?

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

Twelve Days Of A Mallorcan Christmas

Ah, yes. Chestnuts roasting over an open butane-gas heater. Jack Frost British store not nipping at anyone's toes or indeed wallets because it's been closed for years. The sounds of a traditional Spanish Yuletime in the Mallorcan supermarkets - a Phil Spector Christmas collection ronetting over the PA's. It's that time of year again, or perhaps you hadn't noticed. In keeping with the ending of the year, this blog, recognising its role as an important part of the media, will do what other sectors of the media do, and that's desperately try and fill some space with a look back and with a touch of seasonal merriment - ho, ho, ho. Expect some time soon, therefore, the review of 2008. But meantime, to help you along your way with your Christmas festivities, here is the blog's first venture into Christmas songs. Ladies and gentlemen, the Twelve Days of Christmas with a Mallorcan stylie, and some of the numbers even make sense (some don't). If you don't "get" some of the references, then there will be an explanation tomorrow. Right, clear the throat ...

"On the twelfth day of a Mallorcan Christmas, the town hall invoiced me:
Twelve Lees a-Leapying
Eleven millions tourist-ing
Ten Elvis Presleys
Nine mayors corrupting
Eight winds a-blowing
Seven knocking shops a-knocking
Six dogs a-dooing

FIVE EUROS A PINT

Four scratch cards
Three tex-mexs
Two parking spots
And a processionary caterpillar in a pine tree"

Fabulous, I'm sure you'll agree.


CALA RATJADA HOTEL TRAGEDY - LATEST
The three people, who had been arrested following the deaths of the workers at the collapsed hotel, have been released from prison, without bail, by a judge making the initial investigations. Remember what I said about back-covering? Well, blow me, one of the architects has used the very phrase "covering their backs" in respect of the town hall; indeed he says that this was the explanation given by those from the town hall who delivered notices regarding the absence of a licence.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Gladys Knight (licence to "kilt") - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TW5G_05a5UU. No quiz today.

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

Licence To Kill

The inevitable fall-out from the Cala Ratjada hotel tragedy has only begun. It could just turn out to be something of a landmark as the first accusations and counter-accusations indicate the frankly ludicrous nature of how this building work was allowed to proceed. Setting aside, obviously, culpability, here we have a case in which there was no licence, and yet the owners were negotiating for it after the work had begun (there is a suggestion that they had in fact applied for it in August); in which the town hall says that on three occasions it attempted to get the works stopped (the owners refute this); in which, according to neighbours, everyone knew about the works (well of course they would; it would have been pretty difficult for them not to have known); in which the town hall and the local police enabled the closing of the street in order that certain work and rubbish removal could be done; in which the architects' association says that it doubts that the town hall would have denied a licence, admits the work should not have been started without it, but goes on to say that architects accept that this way of working, without the licence, is sometimes done because of the pressures of obtaining licences in order to complete works before the tourist season and that some smaller town halls go along with this.

The above is largely taken in translation from reports in "The Diario". I wouldn't normally take this amount, but it is all highly significant and important to convey, especially the last parts, those relating to the town hall. And it says just about everything you need to know about the ways in which things seem to work here. How on earth, for example, can the town hall and the police (the police, for heaven's sake) permit the closure of a street for work relating to something that did not have a licence? Anyone care to volunteer an answer, because I'm damned if I know. Of course, there may well be some back-covering going on in all of this, but these are the "facts" as they are currently being presented, including that which suggests that, licence or no licence, the work being undertaken was otherwise in order.

Tragedy this has been in that four men have lost their lives, but there is another tragedy at play, and that is the wider implications of the case, which itself is likely to be seen as a monstrous indictment of how the "system" operates here. How many building works go on without licences? But the specifics of the licence are just symptomatic of a wider malaise, one of rule-bending and of an unwritten complicity, not necessarily of a criminal type but one of smoothing the way. It isn't just the bureaucracy that is to blame; it is an acceptance that this is "how it is". It is something that pervades much of Mallorcan society. There is a societal failure as much as there might be an institutional, a legal or a systemic failure. The men who have died might just become martyrs to something way beyond the details of the Son Moll hotel collapse, and which leads to an examination and maybe a righting of this societal failure. It's a societal licence, not just an official document, and look where it's got us. It does not have to be "how it is". It should be how it was and how it will now be in the future. Don't hold your breath.


PUERTO POLLENSA ON ICE
Ever wondered about what would happen with the yard outside the old school by the church square? Maybe you haven't. But if you have, here is the word - maybe. An ice rink. There's more to this than it seems. And is not as daft as it sounds. So I am told.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Bobby McFerrin (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjnvSQuv-H4). Today's title - Bond, Motown, easy.

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