Talk Talk

The Germans have a marvellously literal vocabulary. Take the word "Mundart"; it is the German for dialect. Literally, it means mouth-type. Dialect and accent, though of course different, are often interwoven in creating a sort of über-Mundart, if I can use such an expression. One begets the other, or is it the other way round? The Germans can also lay claim to one of the most horrid accents known to European man - rural Franconian in Bavaria. Not only horrid, it is incomprehensible even to those who speak it.

I was thinking about Mundart and accents and mouth-types this afternoon; mouth-types should just as equally apply to accents. In fact I was thinking about all this after yesterday's piece. But it hit home when I went for an hour or so's cooling by the sea. There were two young Mallorcan women. Not unattractive it must be said. Shame about the mouth-type. I know many Mallorcans, and most are dear, sweet people, but they are possessed of one great flaw - they sound as though they are cats being strangled, and usually cats being strangled very loudly. For a people who apparently have a trait which eschews drawing attention to themselves, the Mallorcans have a strange way of showing it, when it comes to what emanates via their vocal chords. One of my Mallorcan neighbours has a gob on her the size of Albufera, and she is hardly unique.

Most languages, dialects and accents are tolerable, even if some, like Dutch, grate like nails being drawn down a blackboard. Not all mouth-types can attain the sensuous perfection of the French or the rich melodies of the Irish. Local accents in Britain are not necessarily the stuff of mouth-type beauty - dense Brummie for instance; Mallorquín is the sort of Brummie of the "Spanish" languages. Listen to a bunch of Mallorcans speaking and there is this repetitiousness of the "cha-aaah" sound, which lends itself to the strangled-cat metaphor. Then there is the sheer length of some vowel sounds. Take a very short word like "bé" (the equivalent of bien in Spanish). This is not just the whole nine yards of long vowels, it is the whole nine hundred yards - beeeaaaarrrr. Strangled cats and strangled sheep.

You see, when they go on about defence of local languages and all the rest, they are missing one vital test - whether it actually sounds any good or not. There are doubtless local accents and dialects dotted around Europe that could compete, for sheer rhapsodic quality, with the French, but Mallorquín is not one of them. And then you come back to the volume. All those sound limiters in bars and so on, has anyone ever thought about fitting one to a Mallorcan?

Anyway, we all speak with different tongues, and linguistic diversity is something to be celebrated not criticised. I speak with a tongue. Right here on this blog. I just have. There is my tongue. Can you see it? Inside my cheek. All of this stuff in my tongue; all of this I have just written. True or false, as Riki Lash might ask - in an American accent.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Beatles (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QShSmpI0r9k). Today's title - Er, well who did this?

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

I Say High, You Say Low

At the risk of further suggestions that I have a personal agenda, which I do not, more on the Castilian-Catalan language debate. Yesterday's "Diario" reported on the support by a group called "La Mesa del Turismo" (tourism table if you like) for a so-called manifesto for a common language, issued by a group of intellectuals who seek to defend the use of Castilian. This table includes none other than Air Berlin, who were at the centre of the apparent row regarding the "invitation" by the Balearic Government to use Catalan (14 June: Where The Air Is Rarefied).

On 2 July, the Mallorca Council announced that it would use 400,000 euros to promote the use of Catalan in the restaurant sector. The president of the "table" talks of "a linguistic police" imposing Catalan on the restaurants. The group is also concerned about language for things such as road signs and, in general, for Spanish tourists, Castilian speakers and foreigners.

So, here we have a clique of intellectuals making common cause with business in pursuing a common language - Castilian - and a local council that is prepared to spend public money in order to get menus printed in Catalan. One is almost inclined to wish a plague on both their asylums. In today's "Diario", the Catalan actor Jordi Dauder is reported as saying that "Castilian is not in danger, for God's sake", pointing out that the manifesto is a "political maneouvre". He speaks sense, though the Mallorca Council's restaurant language initiative is hardly anything else.

There is something vaguely absurd about a manifesto that seeks to defend what is the national language in the sense that it is spoken by more Spaniards as a first language than it is not. By the same token, interference in how businesses (restaurants) operate, as was the case with Air Berlin, should be a matter for businesses not for politicians. It isn't as if Catalan (or Mallorquín) is not already the language that is used. A restaurant owner chooses his language or languages based on his market; therefore, he will usually display a menu in Catalan (or Mallorquín), which is as it should be if that is his main market. Road signs are the same. Come from Palma Airport, and you do not see Puerto de Alcúdia, you see Port d'Alcúdia, the Catalan version.

Both sides of this debate seem to be lapsing into posturing. As I have said before, the overriding factor should be one of pragmatism, which would generally mean the use of Castilian. But not at the expense of what is, after all, a far from insignificant language - Catalan. It is though a debate that will not go away, as it runs far, far deeper than the mere use of road signs. History and cultures are intrinsically bound up in the debate, and recent history (that of the Franco era) saw the outlawing (in official circles at any rate) of a language spoken by millions. Post-Franco, the Spanish constitution has as one its precepts the defence of the different languages. Consequently, the debate is institutionally sanctioned. Go back further, and the creation of the Spanish nation at the time of the Catholic Kings was a defining moment in the linguistic debate. As most who know about business affairs will acknowledge, there is no such thing as a merger, there is only acquisition or at least one dominant partner. So it was with the union through marriage of Aragon and Castile. Isabel wore the trousers in that marriage, and Castile and its language came to dominate through the greater strength of Castile's trade and through the creation of empire. But go back further, to the time of King Jaime I, the liberator of Mallorca, and there is the firm hand of Catalan written onto the manuscript, or manifesto if you prefer. Jaime was, along with Ramón Llull, one of the great Catalan-ists, even if Llull was more eclectic in his linguistics.

In the Mallorcan context, therefore, there is the force of one of the island's most important figures (arguably the most important figure) to sustain and support the debate. But that, of course, ignores the fact that Catalan and Mallorquín are not the same thing. The latter may be a derivative of the former, but it differs in many respects. I bow to the insights in "Beloved Majorcans" which make it clear that Mallorquín is not just a less direct language than Catalan it is also a language that reflects a specific society and character. When the language debate is positioned on the polarities of Castilian and Catalan, it fails to recognise, in Mallorca at any rate, that neither is the local language.

The posturing is not one that arises in everyday life here. Most Mallorcan people are well aware that incomers do not speak their language. As a consequence, in addition to the Mallorcans who choose to use Castilian in any event, the languages co-exist in relative harmony. I, for example, can understand much written Mallorquín but I can't speak it, so I use Castilian, and so do those to whom I speak. I have never once, bar some ribbing, encountered any opposition to this. The politicans and the intellectuals are, it would seem, talking over the heads of the common people. But then, 'twas ever thus.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Dionne Warwick (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gsUuZMpXHk). Today's title - one says one thing, the other another - who was this?.

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

Do You Know The Way To ...?

I ought to invoice Alcúdia town hall. Not that it would get me very far. Like it would not get bars and shops and the rest very far. There are the official tourist information offices and then there are the unofficial ones. I say Alcúdia, rather than Pollensa or Santa Margalida (Can Picafort), because I tend to be in Alcúdia more, and there is also the question of the "uniform", the one I have for Alcúdia and haven't quite got round to replicating for the other centres. Though there have been some comments about the red trim on the shorts, the "uniform" is basically yellow and black. My upper body stands out like a beacon with the black of www.thealcudiaguide.com shouting at passers-by from my back. I am outdoor advertising. I am advertising in motion, except when I am sitting down, which is as often as I can make it given the heat.

But this all comes at a price, in the sense that the uniform attracts questions. "Excuse me, can you tell me where ...?" The oddest, thus far, was the lady at the Viva Sunrise who wanted some help for her little girl whose henna tattoo had gone a bit awry. I am mobile medical advice as well.

I am though just one of many who dispense tourist information. In certain cases, it is probably as well. Take Can Picafort. The tourist information office is located in a sort of no-tourist's land between the main part of Can Pic and Son Bauló. You could be forgiven for not noticing it as it looks like it's the Guardia Civil, which is the next door. The office in the old town of Alcúdia doesn't necessarily stand out either. People find it eventually, but often having been into the town hall in a fruitless search. Life will be easier, one assumes, if the Can Ramis thing ever finally gets built by the market square as that is where the tourist office will be located.

The paseo (promenade) offices are the most prominent, and Puerto Pollensa's takes the accolade for most tourist-friendly in that not only is it perfectly located next to the bus stop and taxis it also allows for browsing, which the one in Puerto Alcúdia does not. It used to be browsable, but now the back door remains firmly off-limits. I don't really know why.

What one can't fault, at least in my experience when I have witnessed tourist-office encounters, is the help. Playa de Muro's is a good case in point. Cati is supremely attentive, and I say this without suggesting the other offices are not. And it's not the case that this office is not particularly busy; it does, after all, double as Muro town hall's sub-office. And then there are the offices who if they can't give an answer, look to find out, which is where my unofficial role comes in again. Puerto Alcúdia's Mile office has been known to ring my mobile in search of such-and-such a place.

To return to bars and hotels and the like though, they play a far from insignificant tourist-information role. It would make an interesting survey to find out what sources tourists use, when in situ on holiday here, to get information. The tourist-information offices keep statistics on their traffic, and categorise this by nationality. If the numbers are not looking that high, this might be construed as being a reflection of lack of tourists or lack of interest. But perhaps it means that the local bar is doing the job just as effectively. Which brings me to what the unofficial sources get to aid their unofficial tourist-information roles. Not a lot, from the town halls at any rate, if Alcúdia is typical. Take maps, the town hall's maps of the town. I quite understand that these are copyright and that they cost money to print, but is there not some way that bars etc. can have them without having to pay for them? Because that is the situation. And yet these bars and others are regularly fielding questions of the where is and do you know the way varieties.


Some sad news. Those who know Bar Bamboo in Puerto Alcúdia from the past will also know Eric Mercer. He has passed away. I know there are people who have been very grateful to Eric in the past for his help and that he will be sadly missed. Deepest sympathies go to Angela.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Helen Shapiro (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CtybZggplNY). Today's title - the place name's missing, but who was this? Been here not so long ago.

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

Walking Back To Happiness

"I love to go a-wandering ..."

Personally, anyone who wants to go a-wandering or a-hiking or a-anything that requires placing one foot in front of the other for further than it takes to get from the beach-bar to the sea when it's this damn hot needs, I feel, the attention of those who study the brain. But there are those who have a macho and indeed masochistic desire to go a-yomping through the mountain greenery when most sane people are a-floating on a lilo. A whole bunch of them did so just the other day in order to inaugurate the new wandering route that starts from Alcúdia, goes by Coll Baix and then on and past La Victoria. 20 kilometres in all. Insane.

Not that the route is insane as such, just doing it at this time of the year is. Anyway, this new route, with its guiding posts and maps and what have you, has been created at a cost of some 45,000 euros. From now on, in honour of the apparent monthly earnings of a lucky-lucky man along The Mile, this equates to a mere 18 Luckies. Sounds pretty good value to me. It's all part of a programme called "Camina per Mallorca", and so no doubt there will be some promotion at some point that seeks to attract hordes of hikers and ramblers to the island, and to Alcúdia in particular. Not a bad idea - but not for the summer tourist, bar those with an especially hearty bent.

And the attraction of non-summer tourists, or more specifically the need to attract non-summer tourists is aired yet again, this time by ACOTUR, the ones who have started the anti-lucky-lucky men campaign. This tourist businesses organisation reckons that up to 50% of businesses in certain areas of the island are up for sale, the consequence of, you've guessed it, lower spend, all-inclusives, the euro-pound situation and a shortening summer season. ACOTUR's spokesperson pointed to all these factors as being harmful to its members' interests, though he did not wish to sound alarmist. Why not? Some bugger should be standing on top of the local hillside and clanging that alarm bell day and night, except of course he would have the Noise Patrol swoop and check his sound limiter. And talking of which, the Delfin Azul hotel fell foul of the patrol, but are now a-noising again. But this is beside the point. What is, is that business organisations like ACOTUR are just the ones who should be kicking up a hell of a stink, be it lucky-lucky men or the state of the tourism industry, as the latter - and expect this to last certainly into next year - is not a state of happiness.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - James Brown. Today's title - who? Clue: she was a one-time, long-ago teen sensation who then found religion.

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

Papa's Got A Brand New (Lucky) Bag

There was, it would seem, a slight oversight in the "Diario" report about the lucky-lucky men (see yesterday). What's in the lucky bag exactly, Mr Lucky? If you're really lucky and one prone to certain forms of experimentation, Mr Lucky may well have more than just a genuine fake Rolex with which to persuade you to hand over some folded euros.

Now what do you think might be in Mr Lucky's lucky bag, children? Because Mr Lucky is quite a happy chappy; a happy chappy who will stop daddy and let him looky-looky into his lucky bag. And what's this that daddy's found, children? Isn't Mr Lucky a funny man. That's not a Rolex, is it. Look here, see what Mr Lucky has. Some crack.

I was given this story about a luckster who stopped a tourist (with his family) along The Mile and who was nearly given a bath in the canal by the tourist, who happened to be a police officer. The not-so-lucky luckster had offered him some crack. Seemingly, the Rolex and Gucci glasses business is in fact in something of a recession, so the lucksters have diversified.

It would also seem that there is some form of lucky-lucky cloning going on. For every luckster that might have his collar felt, there is another one ready to take his place. A limitless supply of luckies. Lock one up, and up pops another.

There is stuff going down on the streets that they really need to get a hold of. ACOTUR's complaints (see also yesterday) are one thing, but there are things that you shouldn't have to expect, not in a family holiday resort anyway. I was once strolling along Bourbon Street in New Orleans and a guy sidled up to me and asked if I wanted anything. You sort of expect that in a place like New Orleans. Not in Alcúdia, you don't. Or rather, you would hope not. It's naïve to think this doesn't go on here, as it does in other parts of Mallorca. That doesn't make it any more acceptable though.


But much more pleasant news. This blog can claim many a success in its way over 500 entries these past couple of years or so. Successes like ... er ... . Anyway, the time has come to celebrate as, ladies and gentlemen, the Dimplester has shot over the 400 views mark. An almost 33% increase in Runaway Train traffic since he first appeared here, only a few days ago. For those of you who have yet to pay homage, here it is. For one more day only, I give you Dimple Diamond from Derby - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Kylie. The youtube is the great and very different version she did with Jools Holland (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeChtm8aafg). Today's title - who did this (minus the lucky)?

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

Lucky, Lucky, Lucky

They should be so unlucky. Unlucky, unlucky, unlucky. Ah yes, the power of the bottom-line, kick-ass self-interest. When all else fails, or more aptly, when nothing else has actually really been done, one can rely on commercial motives to rouse the slumbering leviathan of the Alcúdia town hall from its summer stupor.

ACOTUR is an organisation that represents Mallorca's tourist businesses. It has been sending letters, two of them in fact, both to the Alcúdia ayuntamiento, complaining about the "invasion" of what are formally here called "vendedores ambulantes" but more commonly are known as lucky-lucky men. (Why, by the way, are there no lucky-lucky women? Whatever.) Every season an invasion of some sort; usually it's jellyfish, but this year the sting is taking place on the streets, and especially along and around one street - Pedro Mas y Reus - which the "Diario" insists on saying is referred to as the dollar mile, when we know better. ACOTUR seems not to be saying that its members are being harmed commercially, but one can assume that the fact that they say that each of the lucksters can trouser 2,500 euros or more a month is a roundabout way of saying that these 2,500 euros are not being spent elsewhere. And I thought tourism spend was meant to be down. No accounting for taste or good sense I suppose. If a tourist wants to part with hard cash for crap, that's his outlook.

But ACOTUR is not solely taking the commercial line. It points out, rightly, that the street sellers give the place a bad name and that they are the cause for many a complaint. Just as important are the facts that the watches, the sunglasses, the CDs, the things that glow and spin and the jewellery are all fake and that the street sellers are plying their trade illegally and paying nary a centimo in taxes. The lucksters will indeed be unlucky, unlucky, unlucky if ACOTUR's protests are met with the sound of heavy boots in pursuit of a collaring.

This is not the first time that the local businesses have tried to gang up. Three years ago, the businesses along The Mile started issuing leaflets telling tourists to say "no" to the street sellers and pointing out that the business was illegal. It didn't do much good. And one does wonder quite what the town hall and therefore also the local police have been doing all this time. Step forward Miquel Ferrer, mayor of Alcúdia, who says that the plod haven't been sitting on their backsides and do represent a significant presence around The Mile. Of course they do. Last night I was in The Mile. Late on, I was down by the canal where there is a row of five or so bars. If the police had a mind, they could hang around in the shadows there and await their prey. They wouldn't have to wait long.

For all that ACOTUR do rightly point to the fact that many tourists do get hacked off with the street sellers, there is - for every pissed-off holidaymaker - another who will happily engage in the banter and the transaction. And then, one has to ask, why do the bar and restaurant owners tolerate the lucksters coming onto their premises? If they were to all tell them to piss off, the trade would not be stopped in its tracks but would be undermined.

There is another worry for the business organisation, another worry that is giving rise to complaints and a bad image - and that is the operation of tiqueteros (PRs as they are known). Now I am not sure what the "Diario" report is referring to when it speaks of the forceful way in which tourists are approached. Might they be talking about our friends the scratch-cardists?


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Culture Club (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgJq5QPkpKQ). Today's title - can anyone not know this?

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

Time Won't Give Me Time

A happy event - Frederick and Emmi have a baby girl called Isabel. Bistro Bell in Alcúdia, that was La Sala, may no longer have the wail of Nanouk, but it can now anticipate another form of cry. I mention this by way of introduction to ... Firstly, Frederick was full of praise for Inca Hospital, commenting that concepts of service do seem to be thriving in some sectors of Mallorcan life. Secondly, I had stopped by the bistro to collect something. It was a book. It had been left there by one of my email correspondents - Charles - to whom I am very grateful. It was, and is, "Beloved Majorcans" by Guy de Forestier, some of you might know it. Published in 1995, the book is one of those rare insights into Mallorca, one that does not take as its raison d'être a brochure approach of the island, typified, as I pointed out the other day, by Thomsonisms that can give us something as pretentious as the "a hop, skip and a jump away from the shimmering sands of Muro beach" (21 June). This is not Mallorca through rose-tinted, glass-bottomed boat but nor is it Mallorca to hell and back. It is non-pompous, it is culturally, historically and linguistically literate and it is coloured with the ease of a journalistic style and a wit that is all too absent from mostly anything one reads about the island. It is also authored pseudonymously. The guy is not Guy. The author is in fact Carlos García-Delgado, born a Catalan but adopted by Mallorca. Though more or less native, the book - in translation at any rate - feels something other than a work by a Mallorcan (Catalan). It is though an insider has looked in from the outside, informed by that insider status.

As I scanned through the book for the first time, I was struck by certain coincidences to pieces have appeared in this blog over the now years. The coincidence of Chapter 8 - "The Concept Of Time" and Chapter 9 - "Buying And Selling" (doing business if you like). When, for example, I had spoken in the past about the non-existence or flexibility of time and indifference/ambivalence towards time, it hadn't necessarily occurred to me that someone else would have been there before. To quote: "What is certain is that in Majorca - and the sooner you realize this the better - minutes don't have sixty seconds, any more than days have twenty-four hours". Mañana may be a Spanish concept of non-time, but the Mallorcans have made of it a high art of abstraction.

The advice for those coming to live in Mallorca is such that I wonder to what degree those from northern Europe in particular can ever go native. Much of what García-Delgado says will be familiar to expats, some of whom will claim to have indeed gone native in adapting to, for instance, non-time if I can call it that. But I doubt them when they protest so. I also wonder whether, 13 years on from publication, the book still holds true. In many respects it does, but in others? Take Frederick and Inca Hospital. Service, if one follows García-Delgado's thesis, should hold no place in Mallorcan society, yet it does. But if anyone wants to experience, first-hand, "the slow pace at which things are done here - be forewarned if you have to go shopping, do business or deal with bureaucracy", then you can test and prove the thesis in respect especially of bureaucracy. Go to the office for foreign affairs in Palma, stand in the boiling sun or the rain in the queue to wait to get in, and then spend three hours waiting to get that residency certificate. I had been inclined to think of this as indifference or lack of respect; it isn't, or well it is, indifference at any rate. Because that time spent is not time; it is neutral, it is indifferent.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Tears For Fears (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1OduoZAUeM). Today's title - pretty easy, but think androgyny if a clue is needed.

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

Shout, Shout, Let It All Out

More noise. It's not often that Leapy Lee in "Euro Weekly" pens something that is hard for anyone to disagree with, but in the current issue he has. It's about noise and the at-times absurd application of the "denuncia" (complaint) which the police are forced to act on. He cites the case of an 80 year old lady who was throwing a party and got a couple of visits from the local plod, acting on a complaint. There is a huge difference between a one-off event that finishes before midnight and persistent noise, but the ease with which people opt for a complaint should, I believe, be subject to whether they are using police time wisely. If it proves not, then the complainant should be brought to task.

But there are so many apparent inconsistencies and also unfairnesses when it comes to noise. Bars that get hammered by having to play music so low that it means a loss of business is just one example of what can be unfair. The other side of this coin is all the noise from various things on the road that are in blatant violation. The other day, there was a guy revving up and then riding a quad bike near me. It was as though Lewis Hamilton had dropped by to practise his starting-grid revving up and take-off. Then there are the motos and the din they make. Get a convoy of those, and ... I once went to the lawnmower 24-hour race at what was Oliver Reed's place. The moto is the souped-up lawnmower of the road here.

When I last spoke about noise, I got an email from John who pointed to the music events that take place in the centre of Alcúdia. This is not the only place. By coincidence, on the noise theme, someone has been writing to "The Bulletin" to complain about a similar problem in Andratx. A rock-music gig going on at two or three in the morning in a town square is a million miles away from an 80 year-old with a band in her back garden. So where is the consistency? The answer is that there isn't any.

I have noted before that noise and holidays are almost inseparable. The holidaymaker often likes his music al fresco and into the wee smalls, and the romanticism of this has been curbed by things such as the midnight curfews. In one sense, it's a shame, but in another it's a perfectly acceptable compromise. The noise of the entertainment from a hotel, assuming it is within the noise limiters, is of course obtrusive, but one cannot live in a holiday environment and expect silence. The fact that a hotel may make this same noise night after night does not get it closed down, yet a one-off party can get a denuncia. Again, where is the consistency? The system of complaint should be subject to a more rigorous test, I feel.

Anyway, finally on this, I had another noise to deal with. Most of it can be handled. But voices, voices can be a real intrusion. Periodically, for reasons that defy me, a couple of what I assume to be lucky-lucky men have used the street outside my house for a late-night rendezvous. In the street, talking, talking loudly. The other night, at close on 1am, I had had enough, went onto the upper terrace and gave a loud "oi" shout. It worked. A "sorry, sorry" and they dispersed. Maybe they were concerned that I would phone the plod and make a denuncia. Now, I would never do something like that.


And Dimple Diamond update. Man alive, is this working well. That counter is now climbing ever more. It's like the Blue Peter Christmas Appeal, edging ever upwards. Let us not let him down, everyone. Here it comes again - the runaway train in that Derby-stylie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Faith No More. Today's title - easy, easy, peasy.

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

The Real Thing

Euro 2008 over, and you might have thought that football would go onto the summer back-burner. It would were it not for Freddy Shepherd, he once of Newcastle United and he who wants to buy Real Mallorca. It would had it not been for what was a distinctly odd piece in "The Bulletin". Well actually it wasn't that odd, just the conclusion which said that a Shepherd purchase would give the British community on the island a boost at a time of credit crunch and would also signal that British business "continues to have great belief in the region and is not afraid to invest in Mallorca". You what?

You're going to have to help me here as I'm struggling. There's nothing wrong with bigging up Mallorca as a place to invest, but what has that got to do with buying a football club? When Abramovic, the Glazers and Gillette and Hicks bought their Premier League clubs, was this because they believed that England was a good place to invest in? No it was not. The geographical location of Chelsea, Manchester United and Liverpool was irrelevant. They were buying football clubs that happened to be in England. Moreover, and this is relevant, football clubs that happened to offer the possibility of making a whole wedge of money, much of it from a cheque signed by the bosses of TV companies and from sales of merchandise to the Chinese who probably made the stuff in the first place, so coals to Newcastle and all that - as Mr. Shepherd will be particularly aware.

There are different motivations for buying football clubs, and making shedloads of dosh is but one of them. Ego and self-aggrandisement can both be found on the list. Many moons ago, I used to deal with the company that was the making of Robert Maxwell, the scientific journal publishers Pergamon. I was once at Pergamon HQ in Oxford, this being at the time that Maxwell was sniffing around Man United. I asked my contact what on Earth Cap'n Bob wanted with buying United. The answer was swift and simple. "He wants to be loved." I suppose there is nothing more egotistical than seeking the fan's love in return for buying his football club. Then there are the serial football entrepreneurs and directors - Peter Ridsdale, Ken Bates, Sam Hamman and now Freddy Shepherd - not all of whom have covered themselves in glory or have been honoured with the fan's undying love.

When Freddy Shepherd says that Real Mallorca has always been his "second team", this may well be the case and good luck to him if he wants to buy the club. But to nuance this as evidence of British confidence in investing in Mallorca per se is, I would submit, stretching the goalposts of mere football business beyond the touchlines. And quite what any of this has to do with the British community, credit crunch or no credit crunch, I am at a loss to explain. It is, perhaps, a simple case of serendipity. Mr. Shepherd spends a fair amount of time in Mallorca, the owner of the club needs to sell in order to pay off debts, and Mr. Shepherd has the proceeds from the sale of his Newcastle shares. All makes good sense, I suppose, but a case of investing in the island? Sorry, but I don't think so.


Oh, and another of these comments that are not sent as emails to me, but it's appended to yesterday's piece. Basically it is a big-up for The Monkees and the greatness of their show. You know something, I loved The Monkees when I was a kid, I had at least three of their albums, and some of their singles retain a distinct evocativeness - "Pleasant Valley Sunday", for example. But the vid with Peter Tork in "I'm A Believer" ... I don't know. Still, many thanks to one who keeps the flame burning for The Monkees.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Blur (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrZu_1ppCeI). And the chain question - Neil Diamond wrote "I'm A Believer". Today's title - could be a number of things, but I'm looking for an album by an influential American rock band of the 80s and 90s.

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

One Born Every Minute

I learned a new word yesterday. "Engañabobos". It's something of a derogatory term. Initially, I didn't know what it meant. It came up when I was chatting with someone about "tarjetas" (cards). It was all a bit lost on me. So I went off and happened to go into Little Britain. By the way, I asked, do you know what "engañabobos" means? They did know, well knew the literal meaning. Cheat and gullible. Now it was becoming clearer. Yes of course. Engañar, yes I did know that after all; I'd spoken to someone only recently and it had come up in the context of Cristiano Ronaldo. Bobos - the sort of word I should have known: idiots, stupid people. And it all really did start to become very much clearer. In English I suppose it might be mug or sucker, perhaps. It's better translated as an expression - "there's one born every minute". There's a Harry Enfield character, the one who sells stuff he's picked up from places like rubbish tips at enormous prices to gullible yuppy types who hand over ever more money or just write out a blank cheque. "I saw you coming" or something close is the name of the sketch; I saw you coming could also be engañabobos.

And what was all this about? Scratch cards. The holiday club scratch cards. Again. I suppose if there is one born every minute, then it's fair game for those doing the promotion, though there is always the "charm" of the sales pitch which can change to abuse and harassment, as I have reported earlier. What has to be borne in mind is that any PR or "tiquetero", call he or she as one may, operates under the same sort of conditions. Commissions depend upon getting the punter or the one born every minute through the doors, so harassment can be part of the game if that's how to earn a crust. And the fact is, notwithstanding the actual status of the scratch-cardists and also whatever the town hall's position on the whole matter, there are presumably sufficient engañabobos to make it all viable. But the harassment is the real objection. If the operation is all perfectly above board then so be it but, as was pointed out on 12 June, if people are subject to abuse and aggression this gives Alcúdia a bad name.


Meantime, the ongoing campaign to create the legend of the star of "The Runaway Train", Dimple Diamond from Derby. The youtube counter has shown a satisfying upward trend, but let's keep it going folks, a kind of Rick-rolling without the Rick and without the rolling. Remember to visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - The Monkees (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzHtO9quFQc). The video shows just how bad The Monkees' show could be. And a sort of chain question - what's the link from this song to "Sweet Caroline"? Today's title - pretty poor record by which leading exponent of Britpop.

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

I'm A Believer (Or Not)

"You just don't know who to believe." Thus spake the editor of "The Bulletin" the other day. He was referring to the conflicting information regarding how well, or not, the season is going.

There are many here who suspect the dark art of the propagandist's pen when it comes to the season good news stories. Few can quite believe the spin. Yet for every woe-is-me bar or restaurant owner, there is always another who has a skip in his stride and a smile of contentment. Sometimes it can be for show; we know that. But sometimes it is obviously genuine. Take somewhere like La Recoleta in Puerto Alcúdia, a restaurant in a highly competitive and concentrated zone in the port. Here is someone, Gustavo, who has the demeanour and the bright eyes of someone genuinely "muy contento" with the season.

It is hard though to know who to believe. We have been told that this season, in terms of numbers at any rate, would be as good as 2007, a record year, lest we forget. On the other hand, there was the news the other day from the hoteliers who were talking about anything up to a 15% slump in profits. It is just this apparent contradiction that The Bulletin's editor rightly alludes to. But then you come across something that supports what the hoteliers are saying and also heavily questions the numbers good news. This is just one example, but perhaps it is a telling one. In Puerto Alcúdia, there is a hotel that apparently for the day of 25 July, i.e. in high season, has a forecast occupation of 67%. Two-thirds. If this is correct, it is going to require a whole load of last-minutes and probably tour operator discounts to elevate that figure to anything like respectability. An occupancy rate in the mid-60s percentage bracket is more like a good performance in May, not July, and there was a report yesterday which said that the Balearics had an average May occupancy level of 61%.

Of course one example proves very little, but it is nevertheless an indication; an indication in particular of the impact of bad economic times and bad exchange rates for the British tourist. It is falling to the German and Scandinavian tourist to take up the slack, but even that can go only so far. The Bulletin's editor goes on to the refer to the call for greater promotion of Mallorca by the government, something I also mentioned recently. He sees a particular need for this in respect of the British market. Perhaps he is right, but when hit by the sort of economic circumstances that they have been, no amount of promotion is necessarily going to convince a wavering Brit tourist of the efficacy of coming to Mallorca. That said, there may well be sense in launching a strong campaign as I don't think I am alone in believing that not this year but next year is potentially going to be the real annus miserabilis. And no amount of propaganda is likely to convince otherwise.


And so of course to Euro 2008. Sore-head morning today, one fancies. The car horns did duly blare out long into the night. 44 years of failure and then a goal from Torres. The post-match shindigs were a wonder to behold. The chap who does the interviews for the Cuatro channel, the one who spoke to the King the other day, was soaked in champagne by a bunch of Spanish players running around in their underwear like kids splashing through a fountain on a hot day. Somehow, one couldn't quite imagine Ray Stubbs being similarly doused. But even among the excitement of the closing moments, the final whistle coming nearer to end those 44 years, on Spanish radio (and I have 6-0-6 to thank for this) the commentator said that there were two minutes to go, time enough to eat a doughnut. Now I think my chances of being a commentator on a Euro final are greater than England's chances of ever making it to a final, but were these two unlikelihoods to ever happily collide, I fancy that the eating of a doughnut would not be the first thing that enters my head in the dying moments before victory.


QUIZ
Chain - Godley and Creme did the video for "Rockit". And so ... Yesterday's title - Prince, "1999". Today's title - easy stuff so long as you ignore the brackets.

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


Index for June 2008

Air Berlin - 14 June 2008, 18 June 2008, 20 June 2008
Balearic economy - 19 June 2008, 23 June 2008, 25 June 2008
Balearic Government - 14 June 2008, 18 June 2008, 20 June 2008, 23 June 2008, 25 June 2008, 29 June 2008, 30 June 2008
Bars - 2 June 2008
Beaches - 13 June 2008
Cala San Vicente - 7 June 2008
Can Picafort - 11 June 2008
Cedilla - 1 June 2008
Cleanliness - 2 June 2008, 3 June 2008
Construction industry - 25 June 2008
Continental Park Hotel - 21 June 2008
Cost of living - 22 June 2008
Education - 14 June 2008
Energy costs - 10 June 2008
Eroski - 9 June 2008, 10 June 2008
Euro 2008 - 6 June 2008, 7 June 2008, 17 June 2008, 23 June 2008, 27 June 2008, 29 June 2008, 30 June 2008
Fiestas - 13 June 2008, 26 June 2008
Flu - 18 June 2008
Football - 6 June 2008, 7 June 2008, 17 June 2008, 23 June 2008, 27 June 2008, 29 June 2008, 30 June 2008
Germans - 4 June 2008
Holiday clubs - 12 June 2008
Hotels - 16 June 2008, 21 June 2008, 27 June 2008, 30 June 2008
Internet - 13 June 2008, 21 June 2008
JKs Bar - 2 June 2008
La Victoria - 26 June 2008
La Villa Chinese restaurant - 24 June 2008
Language - 14 June 2008, 18 June 2008, 20 June 2008
Logos - 1 June 2008, 3 June 2008, 18 June 2008
Lorry drivers' strike - 10 June 2008, 12 June 2008
Maps - 5 June 2008
Marketing - 8 June 2008
Muro - 8 June 2008
Nadal, Rafael - 29 June 2008
Nautical tourism - 15 June 2008
Playa de Muro - 8 June 2008, 21 June 2008
Polish tourists - 7 June 2008
Pollensa - 1 June 2008, 3 June 2008
Port terminal - 15 June 2008
Prices - 24 June 2008
Railways - 26 June 2008, 28 June 2008
Restaurants - 24 June 2008
Road accidents - 1 June 2008
Roads - 28 June 2008
Sant Pere 2008 - 13 June 2008
Scandinavian tourists - 16 June 2008
Scratch cards - 12 June 2008
Spanish economy - 19 June 2008
Spanish television - 17 June 2008, 23 June 2008, 30 June 2008
Strikes - 10 June 2008, 12 June 2008, 28 June 2008
Sunwing Resort - 16 June 2008
Supermarkets - 9 June 2008, 10 June 2008, 12 June 2008
Tennis - 29 June 2008
Thomson - 21 June 2008
Tour operators - 21 June 2008
Tourism quality - 18 June 2008
Tourism spend - 27 June 2008
Tourism statistics - 30 June 2008
Tourism strategy - 3 June 2008
Tourists - 5 June 2008, 7 June 2008, 16 June 2008
Trains - 26 June 2008, 28 June 2008
Trams - 26 June 2008, 27 June 2008
Trikes - 18 June 2008
Weather - 9 June 2008, 11 June 2008, 21 June 2008, 23 June 2008
WiFi - 13 June 2008

Tonight I'm Gonna Party Like It's ...

Two thousand zero, zero party over out of time, but overdue - a Spanish win in tonight's Euro 2008 final. 44 years of hurt since their only win in a competition - the Euros of 1964 when the finals were in Spain and the Generalissimo, who had refused to let the team play in the inaugural competition four years earlier because of Soviet involvement, allowed the boys in red and yellow to play and beat the reds in the final. They don't make football tournaments like they did then - Luxembourg were in the quarter finals and Greece pulled out as they were still at war with Albania against whom they were drawn. And of course tonight's party is also Saint Peter's big night out in Puerto Alcúdia. Football and religion - it must say something about local culture, though I'm not sure what, other than football and religion.


Switching sports to tennis and to double back-handing, cut-off shirt and bicep-popping Manacor sex God and Wunderkind, Rafael Nadal. No, this is not a Wimbledon moment; one international sports event is quite enough even for this most eclectic of blogs. The Nadal story is rather closer to home, in fact more or less on Rafa's doorstep in Manacor where a tennis centre, that the government was supposed to have been building, has been left a couple of tram lines short of the full court (a remarkably symbiotic metaphor to link to the recent tram story, I am sure you will all agree). The Balearic Government, and bear in mind that the other day it was agreed to hand over some 1000 million folding notes from the governmental piggy-bank to apply some economic RSJ to the construction industry, finds itself somewhat financially embarrassed when it comes to the Manacor centre. So, hang on, let's get this right. The government, which is able to put its hands on a whole wedge of moolah for the building trade, is not able to divert a fraction of this to ... a building project. Hmm.

So what's another tennis centre that doesn't get built, you might be thinking. And you might be right if this were just a story of not facilitating some nouveaux Nadals and their forehand cross-court volleys with top spin. The point about the tennis centre was that the Manacor Muscle had entered into an agreement with the old government administration whereby, in return for the odd tennis court, he would do some PR for Mallorca. Sounds like a fair deal really, especially as, unlike the other "faces" of Mallorca or the Balearics who get dragged into the spotlight and then swiftly disappear, Nadal happens to actually be not only Mallorcan but the most famous Mallorcan in the world. What could be better? The government's tourism politburo, IBATUR, could do a bit more of their wonderfully strange advertising. "Mallorca, much more than tennis", in keeping with the other it has come up with. Except of course it would now have to be "much less than tennis" as Nadal has taken his racket and balls home with him and told the government where they can stick the PR. No tennis centre, no Rafa beaming out from posters at the next international tourism gig.

If the government can ever be said to be sure-footed, there seems little doubt that it has foot-faulted on this. For all the Paco de Lucias and Anna Kournikovas (whatever happened to her role as a "face" by the way?), none has been Mallorcan. Along comes someone as famous as Nadal, and the government says, "sorry, mate, but we've run out of cash for your tennis centre". Maybe they should ask Nadal if he can lend them a bob or two. Still, if Real Mallorca's Dani Guiza scores the goal that wins Euro 2008, then the government can find themselves a new face for Mallorca. But what would they offer in return? Buy the football club. Of course. Brilliant, as it happens to also be owned by the bloke behind the Drac Group whose financial woes have helped to put the local construction industry into penury. Two thousand million zero, zeros.


QUIZ
Chain - The pianist was Herbie Hancock. And what is his big-hit link to Godley and Creme? Yesterday's title - The Motors, "Airport" and see this here, replete with intro by Jimmy Savile, now then, now then (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=baLilwDcjko). Today's title - easy, easy.

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

You've Got A Smiling Face

And ever more on the train extension. It would appear that not everyone is happy with the planned route (alongside the road to Alcúdia from the motorway); that not everyone includes the mayors of Alcúdia and Muro. Alcúdia's Miquel Ferrer is complaining about a lack of consultation, and Muro's Jaume Perelló reckons that the other route (the one that would terminate at the Es Foguero "ruin") would be the better option. Well, as this other route would mean the terminal being sited close to the Muro boundary, I suppose one can sense a degree of self-interest. However, maybe he has a point when he says that such a terminal would be closer to the coast and also to the Muro hospital. Hmm, well, not sure it's that much of a point to be honest, but what about the new industrial estate? That would be right next to the other route's terminal; a stronger point I would have thought. Of course, some are happy about the decision. Step forward our old mates GOB, the environmental lobby group, who one might have imagined wouldn't have wanted anything that came within the sound of a train whistle of Albufera.

This has all the makings of something that will run and run, and run and run - for 15 long years probably like the time it took to agree on the industrial estate - and run and run like the runaway train, and talking of which don't forget the marvel that is Dimple Diamond (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4).


But another day, and another strike in the offing. This has been a fabulous year for industrial relations locally. It gets little better than the teachers and the police striking or working to rule. Oh yes it does if you happen to be flying in for your hols. Baggage handlers. Yep, they're downing the luggage and leaving the carousels sadly revolving with nothing bar the battered and unclaimed suitcase that should have gone to Alicante. Mind you, this has and is only scheduled to take place between the hours of 13:30 and 15:30 when they can go off and have a nice menu of the day. The forums are consoling themselves with the fact that a couple of hours wait is nothing to worry about as it takes that long for baggage to come through anyway (which it doesn't), but those seeking this solace should bear in mind that it also works (or rather doesn't work when on strike) in the outgoing direction, i.e. baggage doesn't get loaded onto outbound flights. So, Mr Smug coming-on-holiday tourist, watch out if you're only here for a week as they're planning a repeat next weekend, and for the whole of Saturday, not just the lunch break. And let's add to this glorious summer of strikes the train workers and possibly hotel workers. Wonderful stuff.


Meanwhile, celebration time and photo opportunity moment for Pollensa worthies yesterday. Some 40 years after it was first planned and six years after the first stage of the road was built, the new road that bypasses Puerto Pollensa was officially opened. Oh joy. The most recently built bit, from the coast road to link up with the roundabout by Caprabo (Eroski), is now complete, there being a roundabout on the coast road that takes you either along the bypass through Gotmar and Pinaret to join up with the bypass to Formentor or further along the old coast road. Excellent, especially if the enviros get their way and close the whole coast road, thus making the whole exercise a complete waste of time.


QUIZ
Chain - Michael Brecker who was part of The Brecker Brothers. Brecker's final public performance was with which jazz pianist? Clue: "I Thought It Was You". Yesterday's title - U2, "Desire" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bjNHzU81qY). Today's title - in honour of the baggage handlers' strike, what had this smiling face and flew a baby away?

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

A Streetcar Named ...

Picking up from yesterday's piece, a comment came in about the tram and the possibility of it going to Puerto Pollensa. I had actually heard some tell of precisely that, though the latest reports suggest otherwise. The enviro-fashionistas would rather like to close the road that runs by the coastline, and let nature reclaim the land, so I don't know if a tram would accord with such a desire; not that I can ever see it happening, but were there ever to be thought of a tram link to Puerto Pollensa, that would surely affect the thinking as to the siting of the train terminal. Or maybe it wouldn't; joined-up transport thought patterns are not necessarily the order of the day here. But were joined-up transport links to be held to be a "good thing", then what of the new terminal in the port for all those cruise ships that are due to be arriving some day, whenever? Maybe they should put the tram along the Calle Teodoro Canet, round the back of the Paseo Marítimo. This would be hugely entertaining. Space may be limited for a tram along the carretera, but along that particular road it would bring everything to a grinding halt. Bring it on.


Meanwhile, the hoteliers of Mallorca are starting to feel the heat of recession, predicting that profits will be down some 15% this season. Though numbers are likely to be in line with last year, it's that tourist spend that is exercising the minds of the hotel trade. I have said it before, in a different context, so one does get a sense of déjà vu, but when they made their optimistic forecasts and announcements coming into the season, there was a feeling of wishful thinking or even delusion. The hard-hit Spanish consumer and his British counterpart was bound to cause a slide in spend. The noises as the season got under way were the sound of whistling to keep up the spirits, when common sense suggested that, despite the numbers of tourists, the actual spend was inevitably going to go down. Anyway, the hoteliers have had a chat with Balearic boss, Francesc Antich. Not that they have asked him to bail them out, unlike the builders, but they are pressing the government to up its promotional spend for next year. And perhaps next year is what should be really worrying everyone, especially if the euro-pound situation continues.


Euro 2008 watch: So Spain duly made it past the suddenly hyped-up and then equally suddenly useless Russians, and they didn't need the benefit of a cut in transmission to alter the result. A conspiracy theory raised on 6-0-6 was that UEFA couldn't bear the idea of Turkey, like Greece in 2004, progressing and actually winning the damn thing, so that so-called lightning strike was in fact a cover to disguise the real result - Turkey in fact won 5-2. Anyway, Spain it is, and with remarkably good or bad timing the final clashes with the climax of the San Pere fiesta in Alcúdia. One fancies that the old image of Peter may take a bit of a back-seat, quite literally perhaps, propped up in a wheelbarrow outside a bar while the locals turn their attention to the TVs. And if Spain win on Sunday? Mayhem. Last night's victory was met with much sounding of car horns hurtling past the house. And for your average Brit expat, a real dilemma. I am, I think, unique in actually wanting Spain to win. But as the opposition will be ... the Germans ... which side can your expat want to win less? Tricky.


QUIZ
Chain - Forgot yesterday. The Players Association featured one of jazz's finest saxophonists who formed part of what "brothers" outfit? Yesterday's title - "The Runaway Train", Michael Holliday, and here is a link to someone who goes by the moniker "Dimple Diamond" introducing and then doing that song. It's fair to say, I think, that Matt Lucas could well have dreamt him up. Anyway his youtube has had barely 300 visits, most of them mine, so I implore you all to look at this and elevate him to greatness (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84DmeutIAr4). Today's title - ok, so fill in the missing word by reference to which mega group?

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

Came Down The Track And She Blew

The technical bods have deliberated long and hard and decided that the planned extension of the railway from Sa Pobla to Alcúdia will follow the route of the main road from the motorway. I wouldn't have thought that it would have needed much deliberation. The alternative was to go by Albufera, a route that would be far more complicated and could not really go any further than the old "Es Foguero" place by the roundabout from Sa Pobla, and a terminal there would make it almost Playa de Muro and not the "pueblo" of Alcúdia. A decision has yet to be made regarding the siting of that terminal and, though the report today ("Diario de Mallorca") refers to the fact that the railway line would then go on to link the "pueblo" (the town) to the port and Can Picafort by means of a new tram line, local opinion is that the train terminal would be most likely to be just outside the "pueblo", i.e. by the Horse Roundabout. It might just be feasible to run a line from the roundabout coming into Alcúdia across finca land to end at, say, the roundabout to Puerto Pollensa, but that would just have the effect of making more complicated the laying of the planned tram line, I would have thought.

If it does actually get built, the rail extension could well prove very popular, so much so that some consideration must surely also be given to the number of carriages that one train would carry. A train line from Alcúdia into the centre of Palma would have the distinct advantage for many, myself included, who shy away from driving into the centre of Palma as it is, frankly, something of a nightmare. It would take longer, but it would be considerably less stressful. But the capacity of the trains would be an issue, especially in summer. At present, tourists tend not to use the train (from Sa Pobla) in great numbers because of the obvious hassle with getting to Sa Pobla in the first place; this would all change with a terminal in Alcúdia.

Then there is the proposed tram. To connect with Can Picafort, there is only one way that it could go, and that would be along the main road (the carretera Artà). This would not be without difficulties, one of which would be how to deal with the bridge over the canal from Albufera in Playa de Muro. Short of widening the bridge (which would be no bad thing as it is currently quite dangerous anyway), there presumably would have to be a traffic light system to give the tram priority. In addition, there would be the new roundabouts along the carretera to negotiate; the one at the top of the Mile, which is tight already, should prove fun. Which does of course raise the question as to whether the new layout of the carretera from the Magic Roundabout all the way to Can Picafort was ever conceived with a tram in mind. I very much doubt it. All that development and all that cost, and they'll have to rip it up and start again. I guess that a tram could use the side roads, but there are breaks in these, so the simplest solution would be to go straight down the middle of the main road, which raises the question as to whether the space really exists. The tram line (or lines) by itself (themselves) could probably be accommodated, but then there are the platforms to be taken into account.

Whatever they decide, and God knows how long it would take to build the thing (if it gets done), the presence of a few trams hacking along the centre of the carretera is going to make using a car even more joyous than it already is. Cyclists, people on roller blades, trikes, tourists wandering in the middle of the road and now trams. Sounds like great fun.


And talking of fun. On the WHAT'S ON BLOG, I have added the events for the La Victoria fiesta that takes place on 1 and 2 July. This is one of the most traditional local fiestas, but it is a bit out of the way, and a taxi is advisable partly because of the amount of drinking that goes on on the night of 1 July.


QUIZ
Chain - Ohio to the Ohio Players to the Players Association and therefore "Turn The Music Up". Yesterday's title - Elvis Costello, "Shipbuilding", but here is Robert Wyatt's version (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6T9qp9XbRY). Today's title - those who remember Uncle Mac should know this.

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

It's Just A Rumour That Was Spread Around Town

With the due predictability of night following day, the Balearic Government, responding to the current economic mess, is going to stump up over 1000 million euros, much it being directed towards construction and a fair chunk to paying debts.

This is the unreal reality of the local economy. It is hard to ever categorise construction as a strategic industry, but in Mallorca that is pretty much what it is. It is a strategic industry in that it creates a cycle of employment and wealth generation and thus is, in effect, a glorified subsistence industry. The government, with little else to turn to, is left with little alternative but to prop it up. And propping up is what it is doing.

It cannot be denied that certain public projects, such as the upgrading of water-treatment plants and the planned extensions to the rail network, are necessary or to-be-desired infrastructure developments and job creators, but one does have to wonder as to the efficiency of the capital being handed over to local construction firms. The current economic malaise is one created by many factors, but debt and therefore business collapse are the consequences. Take the Drac Group, the company presided over by Vicente Grande, he also of the Real Mallorca football club to which Freddy Shepherd has turned his covetous eyes. Drac has applied for the suspension of payments to creditors. A financial restructuring may yet save the company, but it is, to all intents and purposes, bankrupt. A substantial player like Drac going almost or totally belly-up obviously means that supplier firms are left with unpaid invoices, cascading the economic problem down through the economic chain of the island. This is the debt-payment alleviation to which the government is willing to divert funding.

I have no way of knowing the ins and outs of the Drac situation, but the construction sector stands (and appears to also fall) as an example of why things are in a mess. Many construction companies have been like Leeds United; they have bet the future with easy credit that has of course now dried up. Again, I make no comment specifically about Drac, but one has to ask - in a wider context - about the management and governance that has brought this situation about.

The government is left with a Hobson's choice - and that is to support an industry that has become de facto strategic in the absence of alternatives. If nothing else, this should all be exercising the minds of Balearic politicians as to diversification, and a shift away from the relationship with the construction sector, a relationship that seems to enable firms in difficulty to go cap in hand for a bail-out and for more public funds and therefore more borrowing to jump-start the sector. The construction industry may be in difficulty, but it virtually can hold a gun to the government's head. Let firms go under and that means unemployment, more grim economic news, and the blame will be lain at the government's door, which would be only partially true. And don't think this is all a consequence of an acquiescent Socialist-led government; it would have been no different under a PP administration.

But what, one might well ask, would happen were there to be a sudden collapse in the tourism sector, which can more genuinely be called a strategic industry? Would hoteliers and others, faced with debts from unsold holidays, be able to get the government to dig into the coffers for assistance? Aid because of, say, a natural disaster is one thing, but aid occasioned by market failure is another. Which brings one back to the notion of diversification. There is just the possibility of a "shock" that could derail the tourism sector; it cannot ever be discounted. But the question of course is diversification into what. I don't know that anyone has a good answer to that.


QUIZ
Chain - Hang On Sloopy is the official rock song of the state of Ohio, which does rather beg the question why a state needs an official rock song, but there you go. And by which soul and funk route do you get from Ohio to "Turn The Music Up". Yesterday's title - Man Ray's real name was Emmanuel Radnitzky. Today's title - though it was about more than just a decaying industry (not that construction here is, but it seemed like a good opportunity to use the title), where does this come from?

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

Man Ray

Back to prices. I read somewhere someone moaning that things are much more expensive in Alcúdia this year, that all the restaurants have put their prices up. Well, yes, some may well have put their prices up, but equally there are those that have not. But if a bar has whacked on 50 centimos to the price of a pint, and a returning client notices, then that bar's going to have to be doing something else well if that client is not going to shop around. Prices do vary even within reasonably close areas. In Puerto Pollensa, for instance, a pint of Mahou can cost 4.60 euros around and in the square; a bit away and you can get one for 3 euros. Similarly a round of four drinks for a family that can come to 9 euros off the square is 6 just down the road.

There are plenty of reasons why prices may have gone up - the additional costs of energy, petrol, social security etc. have to be taken into account. But while upping the price of a pint by 50 cents or so may increase the profit per pint, the question is whether those increased prices translate into volume of sales. It is volume that counts, and price, ever more so this season, is the key selling point for many. Of course, there is also the price perception issue, among the Brits most obviously. The strength of the euro has changed the mental picture for the tourist. Last year's 1.40 plus to the pound has gone down to 1.20 or so to the pound. Last year, that 1.40 was rounded up - to 1.50 in the tourist's mind; this year, it has been rounded down to 1.00. The tourist makes a cognitive error in calculating a 33% difference in value, even if it is an understandable error of mathematical convenience and even if the real cost has not shifted or has gone up by no more than, say, 10%. However, it cannot of course be denied that the euro in your pocket (if you are British) is worth less. And an evening out with a hundred euro note may, last year, have allowed you to enjoy a good night out and leave you with considerably more than enough for a bag of chips on the way back; this year, it would probably just be enough to cover the cost of that bag of chips.


And just on Puerto Pollensa. There will, in the next couple of weeks, be a new Chinese restaurant opening. Another Chinese, you ask? Well yes, except this one will bring with it an already strong reputation, as Ray from La Villa in Puerto Alcúdia has taken over what was La Vall (a remarkable piece of closely named serendipity, one feels) and will be bringing the 15 years of La Villa experience to Puerto Pollensa, from where people already go to Alcúdia in order to sample the La Villa menu. Well, from 8 July, they will not need to. And I think I may have mentioned this before, but La Villa is the only Chinese I know locally that gets itself listed in the a la carte league; it has also, unlike many Alcúdia Chinese restaurants, not had to stoop to the "buffet libre" form of promotion. Price is indeed important, but it is not everything.


QUIZ
Chain - The Four Seasons, "Let's Hang On"; The McCoys, "Hang On Sloopy". And what official role does Hang On Sloopy have? Yesterday's title - Kajagoogoo (see this here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3P6I4pT_tVA). Today's title - a very different sort of question today. Ray isn't really Ray's name as such (I could give you the full Chinese, but I won't); neither was Man Ray the actual name of ...?

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

Too Shy, Shy

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


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

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


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


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

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

One On One

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

John Kettley Is A Weatherman

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

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

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

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

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


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

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