Friday, August 16, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Weather Alcúdia and Pollensa 16 August 2013
No Frills Excursions
Morning high (7.15am): 21.5C
Forecast high: 31C
Sea conditions (northern Mallorca; Alcúdia and Pollensa bays): Northeast 2 to 3 increasing 3 to 4 during the day.
Another fine, sunny and hot day beckons. And no indication that the pattern will alter. May be a bit cloudy tomorrow, but otherwise ...
Evening update (19.30): A high of 30.7C on another lovely summer's day.
#DistrustCarpenters: Balearics Twitter economics
Twitter is an odd old thing. So is Facebook. Where you once might have had a grievance with someone and dealt with it by slagging that person off down the pub to a group of mates who were probably less than interested in what you had to say, you now go to social media. If you are a complete idiot, and it is almost a pre-requisite of using social media that you are, you will bombard your status with bile, vitriol and expletives, the target of this malevolence being the one with whom you have a grievance. When it goes too far, and it often does, you may find yourself suspended from the relevant network or, worse, find plod knocking on your door or a summons for defamation being issued.
There is, though, an alternative approach to social media Tourette's. It is the one that doesn't actually address directly the grievance or the one with whom you have a grievance. It is more subtle, more obscure, less likely to be libellous or hate-filled, and, in many ways, more effective.
Josep (Pep) Ignasi Aguiló is the former Balearics minister for employment, business and finance. He lost his job when President Bauzá shuffled the chairs around the cabinet table in May. On the first of that month, all was hunky-dory. He tweeted that he was at the opening of the Palma boat show with his Twitter friend @JRBauza. There was no other entry until 13 May; after he had been dismissed. "I have not been in politics for ambition. Power in itself has never interested me. Sincere thanks." He added a couple more anodyne comments in the wake of his dismissal and then, on 13 June, changed tack. He went on the offensive but in a veiled fashion. "Medicine saves people. Good economic theory does too."
Aguiló also made references to improvements in the Balearic economy (attributable, one presumes, to his handling) before a few days ago coming out with this: "Always distrust the carpenter who blames the hammer for a bad result". It is a variant on a poor workman who blames his tools.
Aguiló's @PepAguilo aphorisms have aroused some discussion as well as tweeting responses. Who exactly is the carpenter? Is there no longer good economic theory? It doesn't take a doctorate in economics (which Aguiló has) to figure out who the carpenter is and that the bad result stems from less good economic theory, but there is a flaw in Aguiló's apothegm; he is speaking in the present tense rather than the future. The improvements about which he had tweeted will take time to unravel without him at the economic helm and with the carpenter let loose with a ruddy great hammer to destroy all his good work.
The carpenter, though Aguiló in suitably enigmatic style has not named him, is, one has to conclude, his old friend @JRBauza. But by not explicitly naming him, Aguiló makes as much of a headline as if he had said "always distrust a bloody useless president - @JRBauza - who is making a total pig's ear of things". Aguiló could have been more explicit by dropping the carpenter motif and saying "always distrust the pharmacist (which is what @JRBauza is when not being president, though he might, for the purposes of the Balearics High Court, deny this) who blames medicine for a bad result. It would have been clearer, but it would have also compromised his earlier tweet-aphorism, the one about medicine saving people. Or, now one thinks about it, was that earlier tweet also meant to have been a dig at @JRBauza?
Though various "sources" believe that @PepAguilo has gone for the jugular of @JRBauza by tweeting his carpentry axiom, it doesn't come across as the mad rant of one who would pick up a carpenter's saw and remove the head of the head of the government. It is, one guesses, Aguiló's way of, some weeks after getting the boot, voicing his displeasure. I'm not surprised. A victim of the cabinet musical chairs, Aguiló would have had every right to have felt aggrieved that he was being hung out to dry for what was clearly a factor in his removal - the hugely unpopular proposal for green taxes. That these were swiftly dropped (at least for the time being) after Aguiló had gone hinted that they were taxes he, and he alone, had devised. Of course he did; @JRBauza would not have had any say in them.
The reason for Aguiló's dismissal was transparent to all but the blindest of @JRBauza followers, but though it was a crude way of attempting to deflect criticism and to bolster support by the president, Aguiló couldn't really have had too much to complain about. "Good economic theory" saves people. Perhaps it does, but whoever said that putting a tax on bottles of water was a good economic theory?
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
There is, though, an alternative approach to social media Tourette's. It is the one that doesn't actually address directly the grievance or the one with whom you have a grievance. It is more subtle, more obscure, less likely to be libellous or hate-filled, and, in many ways, more effective.
Josep (Pep) Ignasi Aguiló is the former Balearics minister for employment, business and finance. He lost his job when President Bauzá shuffled the chairs around the cabinet table in May. On the first of that month, all was hunky-dory. He tweeted that he was at the opening of the Palma boat show with his Twitter friend @JRBauza. There was no other entry until 13 May; after he had been dismissed. "I have not been in politics for ambition. Power in itself has never interested me. Sincere thanks." He added a couple more anodyne comments in the wake of his dismissal and then, on 13 June, changed tack. He went on the offensive but in a veiled fashion. "Medicine saves people. Good economic theory does too."
Aguiló also made references to improvements in the Balearic economy (attributable, one presumes, to his handling) before a few days ago coming out with this: "Always distrust the carpenter who blames the hammer for a bad result". It is a variant on a poor workman who blames his tools.
Aguiló's @PepAguilo aphorisms have aroused some discussion as well as tweeting responses. Who exactly is the carpenter? Is there no longer good economic theory? It doesn't take a doctorate in economics (which Aguiló has) to figure out who the carpenter is and that the bad result stems from less good economic theory, but there is a flaw in Aguiló's apothegm; he is speaking in the present tense rather than the future. The improvements about which he had tweeted will take time to unravel without him at the economic helm and with the carpenter let loose with a ruddy great hammer to destroy all his good work.
The carpenter, though Aguiló in suitably enigmatic style has not named him, is, one has to conclude, his old friend @JRBauza. But by not explicitly naming him, Aguiló makes as much of a headline as if he had said "always distrust a bloody useless president - @JRBauza - who is making a total pig's ear of things". Aguiló could have been more explicit by dropping the carpenter motif and saying "always distrust the pharmacist (which is what @JRBauza is when not being president, though he might, for the purposes of the Balearics High Court, deny this) who blames medicine for a bad result. It would have been clearer, but it would have also compromised his earlier tweet-aphorism, the one about medicine saving people. Or, now one thinks about it, was that earlier tweet also meant to have been a dig at @JRBauza?
Though various "sources" believe that @PepAguilo has gone for the jugular of @JRBauza by tweeting his carpentry axiom, it doesn't come across as the mad rant of one who would pick up a carpenter's saw and remove the head of the head of the government. It is, one guesses, Aguiló's way of, some weeks after getting the boot, voicing his displeasure. I'm not surprised. A victim of the cabinet musical chairs, Aguiló would have had every right to have felt aggrieved that he was being hung out to dry for what was clearly a factor in his removal - the hugely unpopular proposal for green taxes. That these were swiftly dropped (at least for the time being) after Aguiló had gone hinted that they were taxes he, and he alone, had devised. Of course he did; @JRBauza would not have had any say in them.
The reason for Aguiló's dismissal was transparent to all but the blindest of @JRBauza followers, but though it was a crude way of attempting to deflect criticism and to bolster support by the president, Aguiló couldn't really have had too much to complain about. "Good economic theory" saves people. Perhaps it does, but whoever said that putting a tax on bottles of water was a good economic theory?
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Labels:
Balearics,
Economics,
José Ramón Bauzá,
Josep Ignasi Aguiló,
Politics,
Twitter
Thursday, August 15, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Geese to take part in Can Picafort Assumption Day celebrations
Santa Margalida town hall has only reluctantly agreed with the prohibition of the use of live ducks during the traditional event that occurs today in Can Picafort and which now uses plastic ducks instead. The town hall has arranged for a parade of geese prior to today's event as a mark of its desire to see the law changed that would reduce the qualifying period of a "tradition" to 75 years and so, in theory, allow the use of live ducks.
See more: Diario de Mallorca
See more: Diario de Mallorca
MALLORCA TODAY - Regulation against party boats draws nearer
A proposal by the Més parliamentary grouping for there to be clear regulation controlling party boats is to be considered by the Balearic parliament. Complaints against party boats have been increasing, but they have been operating in something of a legal vacuum.
See more: Diario de Mallorca
See more: Diario de Mallorca
MALLORCA TODAY - Weather Alcúdia and Pollensa 15 August 2013
No Frills Excursions
Morning high (7.30am): 23.5C
Forecast high: 32C
Sea conditions (northern Mallorca; Alcúdia and Pollensa bays): Northeast 3 to 4 easing 2 to 3 by the evening. Northeast swell to one metre in areas.
A fresh feeling morning. Lots of sun ahead on this holiday, the day being the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. Into the weekend, still hot and sunny.
Evening update (20.00): Cooler day, relatively, a high of 27.6C.
Tourism For Despots: Beauty pageants
Stunning Andrea, a 23-year-old student, model and television presenter, speaks four languages, enjoys horseback riding, going to the cinema and looking after her pet Chihuahua. We don't know if stunning Andrea is hoping for world peace and to also look after children, but she is looking forward to visiting Equatorial Guinea and promoting Spain to the people whilst experiencing the culture on offer.
Why on earth would anyone look forward to visiting Equatorial Guinea? Simon Mann didn't, but there again he was facing 34 years in prison there. He got off lightly and was released after only 16 months. Mann and his barmy mercenary army were involved in a coup plot, as supposedly was mad Mark Thatcher. When the awfulness of over 30 years in nick started to dawn on a western media, Equatorial Guinea was portrayed as being little better than a hell on earth. So, one asks again, why would anyone look forward to visiting there?
Equatorial Guinea is a former Spanish colony. It isn't an unwealthy country as it has a good deal of oil money. But very few people benefit from the black gold. Instead, much of the population is deprived access to clean drinking water, the country has an appalling human rights record, it has a reputation for sex trafficking and it ranks among the world's worst for failing to comply with minimum standards. It has a democracy of sorts, its president, Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo, having ruled since 1979 and having received 95.8% of the vote at the last election. The country's motto is "unity, peace, justice". Its anthem says "let us walk the paths of our immense happiness".
Obiang is from the Saddam-Gaddafi-Mugabe school of lunatic despotism. All his country normally attracts are headcases like Mann and (allegedly) Thatcher. They are welcome to each other. It typically doesn't attract the stunning Andreas of this world. But Andrea will be there in October this year. The Sipopo Conference Centre in the capital Malabo will be the location for the 2013 Miss Tourism beauty pageant.
The conference centre was completed two years ago. Its cost is unknown. But as Obiang junior can splash out the equivalent of over two hundred and fifty million euros on a superyacht, stumping up for a grandiose conference centre wouldn't have posed much funding difficulty.
What in God's name is a global beauty pageant doing taking place in such a wretched country? This is something for the organisers to search their consciences in seeking an answer. Little chance. The website for the pageant insists that the country's image has been distorted and that the contest is designed to promote Equatorial Guinea as a "destination of business, travel and leisure".
I had been unaware that there was such a thing as Miss Tourism until it emerged that Miss Tourism Spain 2013 is to be held primarily in Puerto Alcúdia over ten days next month. I am assuming, as I am rather confused, that the winner of this will go forward to the 2014 Miss Tourism contest, wherever this might be staged. Andrea was Miss Tourism Spain in 2012 but only now (or in October) will she have the chance to take to the world stage: in a lavish conference centre, a tribute to a wholly corrupt dictatorial regime with barely any redeeming features. My confusion is compounded by the fact that Andrea, it would appear, picked up the 2012 award earlier this year. Whatever.
Andrea features in publicity for the September event to which Alcúdia town hall is evidently delighted to lend its shield. From the 20th to the 30th of September, the eighteen candidates will be whisked around the island, doing some Palma sightseeing, attending Miss Bikini Spain (no, I didn't know either) and visiting the Caves of Drach. They will be based in Alcúdia, though, having lunches and dinners before finally (on 28 September) actually getting down to the serious (sic) business of deciding the winner.
Doubtless they will enjoy themselves and doubtless they will like their accommodation. They will be staying at Bellevue. Yes, that Bellevue. One presumes they will be segregated and not have to come into contact with who one typically sees waddling around Bellevue in late season - bra-wearing Bella Embergs often with more than a hint of facial hair.
Whoever wins may not have to endure Andrea's fate and pretend that she might actually like Equatorial Guinea. Miss Tourism is peripatetic. One of its irregular previous editions promoted another despotic regime. Zimbabwe's. Why not go there again and allow a nonagenarian madman to drool and slobber at the sight of young females and all in the name of tourism. It makes you want to throw up.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Why on earth would anyone look forward to visiting Equatorial Guinea? Simon Mann didn't, but there again he was facing 34 years in prison there. He got off lightly and was released after only 16 months. Mann and his barmy mercenary army were involved in a coup plot, as supposedly was mad Mark Thatcher. When the awfulness of over 30 years in nick started to dawn on a western media, Equatorial Guinea was portrayed as being little better than a hell on earth. So, one asks again, why would anyone look forward to visiting there?
Equatorial Guinea is a former Spanish colony. It isn't an unwealthy country as it has a good deal of oil money. But very few people benefit from the black gold. Instead, much of the population is deprived access to clean drinking water, the country has an appalling human rights record, it has a reputation for sex trafficking and it ranks among the world's worst for failing to comply with minimum standards. It has a democracy of sorts, its president, Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo, having ruled since 1979 and having received 95.8% of the vote at the last election. The country's motto is "unity, peace, justice". Its anthem says "let us walk the paths of our immense happiness".
Obiang is from the Saddam-Gaddafi-Mugabe school of lunatic despotism. All his country normally attracts are headcases like Mann and (allegedly) Thatcher. They are welcome to each other. It typically doesn't attract the stunning Andreas of this world. But Andrea will be there in October this year. The Sipopo Conference Centre in the capital Malabo will be the location for the 2013 Miss Tourism beauty pageant.
The conference centre was completed two years ago. Its cost is unknown. But as Obiang junior can splash out the equivalent of over two hundred and fifty million euros on a superyacht, stumping up for a grandiose conference centre wouldn't have posed much funding difficulty.
What in God's name is a global beauty pageant doing taking place in such a wretched country? This is something for the organisers to search their consciences in seeking an answer. Little chance. The website for the pageant insists that the country's image has been distorted and that the contest is designed to promote Equatorial Guinea as a "destination of business, travel and leisure".
I had been unaware that there was such a thing as Miss Tourism until it emerged that Miss Tourism Spain 2013 is to be held primarily in Puerto Alcúdia over ten days next month. I am assuming, as I am rather confused, that the winner of this will go forward to the 2014 Miss Tourism contest, wherever this might be staged. Andrea was Miss Tourism Spain in 2012 but only now (or in October) will she have the chance to take to the world stage: in a lavish conference centre, a tribute to a wholly corrupt dictatorial regime with barely any redeeming features. My confusion is compounded by the fact that Andrea, it would appear, picked up the 2012 award earlier this year. Whatever.
Andrea features in publicity for the September event to which Alcúdia town hall is evidently delighted to lend its shield. From the 20th to the 30th of September, the eighteen candidates will be whisked around the island, doing some Palma sightseeing, attending Miss Bikini Spain (no, I didn't know either) and visiting the Caves of Drach. They will be based in Alcúdia, though, having lunches and dinners before finally (on 28 September) actually getting down to the serious (sic) business of deciding the winner.
Doubtless they will enjoy themselves and doubtless they will like their accommodation. They will be staying at Bellevue. Yes, that Bellevue. One presumes they will be segregated and not have to come into contact with who one typically sees waddling around Bellevue in late season - bra-wearing Bella Embergs often with more than a hint of facial hair.
Whoever wins may not have to endure Andrea's fate and pretend that she might actually like Equatorial Guinea. Miss Tourism is peripatetic. One of its irregular previous editions promoted another despotic regime. Zimbabwe's. Why not go there again and allow a nonagenarian madman to drool and slobber at the sight of young females and all in the name of tourism. It makes you want to throw up.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Weather Alcúdia and Pollensa 14 August 2013
No Frills Excursions
Morning high (7.15am): 23.5C
Forecast high: 32C
Sea conditions (northern Mallorca; Alcúdia and Pollensa bays): Northeast 4 easing 3 from the afternoon.
A clear morning. Northerlies dominating on another hot day with highs into the low-30s. Tomorrow's holiday (15 August) will be more of the same, and so packed beaches.
Evening update (20.15): A high of 29.9C on the coast and inland. Nice day. Not excessively hot.
I Predict A Race Riot
The England and Wales Public Order Act of 1986 defines a riot as being "where twelve or more persons who are present together use or threaten unlawful violence for common purpose and the conduct of them (taken together) is such as would cause a person of reasonable firmness present at the scene to fear for his personal safety".
Definitions of riot differ as do the numbers required to constitute a riot, but the generally accepted principles of riot are that there has to be common purpose and that there is violence, implied or actual. The numbers are, nevertheless, important in creating an impression as to whether there is or there isn't a riot. Do fifty people on the streets of Arenal really constitute a riot? In legal terms, they do; in perceptual terms, perhaps not. Riot implies masses. Hundreds rather than two score and ten.
Riots vary in their type, their definitions requiring an adjective to establish the type. Put "race" in front of "riot" and an emotional mix is formed, one that is as explosive as the race riot has always been. In Britain, the first race riots took place in 1958. Twenty years later, the location of those original riots - Notting Hill - saw more "race riots", but there was a difference between the 1958 riot and what happened over successive years in the late 1970s. The first one was the product of the classic and potent elements that foment riots - simmering and brewing tensions between opposing groups that finally break out into violence with the unpredictability of spontaneous combustion. The riots at the end of the Notting Hill Carnival were, on the other hand, more predictable.
The "sus" law was unquestionably a factor and the black community had legitimate grievances, but these grievances tended to be obscured. The riots came to be predictable because they masked a criminal intent, that of "steaming" (organised and mass muggings). They shielded acts of robbery with violence, and they involved considerable numbers of people. Around 6pm on August Bank Holiday, if you had an instinct for sensing trouble or intelligence from within the community itself (and I had both), you got the hell out of the areas around Ladbroke Grove and near the sound systems under the Westway. You knew it was all about to kick off, and it did.
Two years ago in Arenal, nine skinheads, eight Germans and one Austrian, were arrested following incidents in the resort. The skinheads, described as neo-Nazis, had been engaging in some racially motivated aggro. The incidents were described as having been a "race riot", even if the number of people was comparatively small. Nevertheless, it was a riot in that there was common purpose and there was violence. The common purpose was race hate.
Arenal has witnessed other such incidents, and at the weekend came the incident which involved, so it was said, some thirty German neo-Nazi skins and twenty black street sellers. Reports differ as to what actually happened. One suggested that the heat was taken out of the episode by the police and that there were no arrests. Another said that there were both injuries and arrests. Whatever the accuracy of the reports, the intent was the same. Here was a bunch of so-called German tourists who came, as they have in previous years, to start trouble of a racially motivated variety. Race riot perhaps, but utterly predictable certainly. Stage-managed. What occurs in Arenal has nothing to do with simmering tensions and grievances, it has everything to do with loutishness. One can call it a race riot, but it was really thuggery with a racial motive. And planned thuggery at that.
In a sense, it can be said that there are regular "riots" in Mallorca's trouble resorts. The incident along Magalluf's strip, captured on camera and circulated on YouTube, when a car was trapped by a horde of youthful tourists screaming "who are you?" and simulating urinating through the driver's window became a riot. There may not initially have been common purpose but ultimately there was. Personal safety was threatened. Violence was implicit.
Defining an incident as a riot might be considered an over-dramatisation and embellishing a riot with racial overtones adds further drama, but it isn't wrong to suggest that riots are not uncommon. These, though, are riots without any hint of justification that erupts from legitimate grievance. These small-scale Mallorcan resort riots are the product of drunkenness, thuggery or both. And the worst ones are those which are racially motivated and planned. This is not what tourism was supposed to be about. It was supposed to be about broadening cultural understanding.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Definitions of riot differ as do the numbers required to constitute a riot, but the generally accepted principles of riot are that there has to be common purpose and that there is violence, implied or actual. The numbers are, nevertheless, important in creating an impression as to whether there is or there isn't a riot. Do fifty people on the streets of Arenal really constitute a riot? In legal terms, they do; in perceptual terms, perhaps not. Riot implies masses. Hundreds rather than two score and ten.
Riots vary in their type, their definitions requiring an adjective to establish the type. Put "race" in front of "riot" and an emotional mix is formed, one that is as explosive as the race riot has always been. In Britain, the first race riots took place in 1958. Twenty years later, the location of those original riots - Notting Hill - saw more "race riots", but there was a difference between the 1958 riot and what happened over successive years in the late 1970s. The first one was the product of the classic and potent elements that foment riots - simmering and brewing tensions between opposing groups that finally break out into violence with the unpredictability of spontaneous combustion. The riots at the end of the Notting Hill Carnival were, on the other hand, more predictable.
The "sus" law was unquestionably a factor and the black community had legitimate grievances, but these grievances tended to be obscured. The riots came to be predictable because they masked a criminal intent, that of "steaming" (organised and mass muggings). They shielded acts of robbery with violence, and they involved considerable numbers of people. Around 6pm on August Bank Holiday, if you had an instinct for sensing trouble or intelligence from within the community itself (and I had both), you got the hell out of the areas around Ladbroke Grove and near the sound systems under the Westway. You knew it was all about to kick off, and it did.
Two years ago in Arenal, nine skinheads, eight Germans and one Austrian, were arrested following incidents in the resort. The skinheads, described as neo-Nazis, had been engaging in some racially motivated aggro. The incidents were described as having been a "race riot", even if the number of people was comparatively small. Nevertheless, it was a riot in that there was common purpose and there was violence. The common purpose was race hate.
Arenal has witnessed other such incidents, and at the weekend came the incident which involved, so it was said, some thirty German neo-Nazi skins and twenty black street sellers. Reports differ as to what actually happened. One suggested that the heat was taken out of the episode by the police and that there were no arrests. Another said that there were both injuries and arrests. Whatever the accuracy of the reports, the intent was the same. Here was a bunch of so-called German tourists who came, as they have in previous years, to start trouble of a racially motivated variety. Race riot perhaps, but utterly predictable certainly. Stage-managed. What occurs in Arenal has nothing to do with simmering tensions and grievances, it has everything to do with loutishness. One can call it a race riot, but it was really thuggery with a racial motive. And planned thuggery at that.
In a sense, it can be said that there are regular "riots" in Mallorca's trouble resorts. The incident along Magalluf's strip, captured on camera and circulated on YouTube, when a car was trapped by a horde of youthful tourists screaming "who are you?" and simulating urinating through the driver's window became a riot. There may not initially have been common purpose but ultimately there was. Personal safety was threatened. Violence was implicit.
Defining an incident as a riot might be considered an over-dramatisation and embellishing a riot with racial overtones adds further drama, but it isn't wrong to suggest that riots are not uncommon. These, though, are riots without any hint of justification that erupts from legitimate grievance. These small-scale Mallorcan resort riots are the product of drunkenness, thuggery or both. And the worst ones are those which are racially motivated and planned. This is not what tourism was supposed to be about. It was supposed to be about broadening cultural understanding.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Weather Alcúdia and Pollensa 13 August 2013
No Frills Excursions
Morning high (8.15am): 24.5C
Forecast high: 32C
Sea conditions (northern Mallorca; Alcúdia and Pollensa bays): Variable 2 to 3 increasing North 3 to 4 by midday.
Some spots of rain early on but only some spots and otherwise sunny. Less cloud likely today than had been forecast.
Evening update (19.30): Not a lot of difference between inland and coastal highs for once, the maximum inland in Sa Pobla having been 33.2C and on the coasts, 32.6C. Cloud at different times of the day and quite muggy therefore.
George On The Beach: Looky-looky
George is his name. The name he gives himself at any rate. George doesn't really have a name because he doesn't exist. Officially. "Where are you from?" He waves with a surprisingly limp wrist in a direction along the beach. Somewhere over there. "No, not where are you from here. Which country?" George smiles. No, smile is the wrong word. He beams. He does a lot of beaming. You wonder what it is that he has to beam about.
I hazard a guess. "Senegal?" He laughs. No, laugh is not right. He splutters. "Ghana?" Now he splutters and thwacks an ochre palm lined with crevices of deeper brown on to a jeans-covered thigh. He's not telling, is he. Or it's a game. It doesn't matter.
He must get hot. It can't be easy walking up and down, up and down, up and down in the soft and deep sand. In the heat. With long trousers on and a bag over his shoulder. Keeps him fit, he says, and splutters through teeth clenched not because he's fighting off annoyance or anger but because his laughter is his defence.
For now, he's resting. It doesn't appear to bother him that the seat of his jeans will get covered by sand. He rocks from side to side as though there were a song in his head. "Manchester United?" he asks. Paul pulls a quizzical face. "He's a German boy." Momentarily, George appears baffled. You can see he's thinking. Then his eyes light up. "Bayern Munich." And he splutters all over again. The boy is the one who now beams, and George offers a high-five, which is happily reciprocated.
He is sitting in the sand because he is waiting. He hasn't been invited but nor is he asked to move on. He has business. Should the boy have been discouraged? He wanted the sunglasses though. And George is likable. Money has to be collected, as none had been brought to the beach. He doesn't mind waiting. He has all the time in the world. Plenty of time to rest from his endless trudging.
A different George ambles past, sand being gently kicked up by his flip-flops. The two Georges exchange languid nods of the head and indeterminate noises from somewhere deep in their throats. "A friend?" I ask. More spluttering.
I start to think that this laughing isn't because he can't speak English (or Spanish), as he can, but because he doesn't want to give any information. How often does he get asked questions by greater authorities than a group he has encountered on the beach? I would like to know, but it would get me nowhere. When he waved along the sand, where was he waving towards? What was he waving towards? Some pokey flat that he shares with four or five others? Towards or around Bellevue, I'd guess, though I could be wrong.
Heike's returned with her purse. George takes the note (notes) apologetically but graciously. He beams but doesn't splutter. Paul screws his eyes up behind his new sunglasses, sticks his chin out and moves his head towards and away from the direction of the sun. Now George does splutter. "Hey, cool," he says. "Cool," echoes Paul in the way that Germans of any age do, "Koo-ull".
George slopes off, loafing and shuffling in the sand, his bag over his shoulder. What does he have in the bag? More sunglasses? T-shirts? Something else? I doubt it. Not on the beach. Not during the day. He moves away but turns, waves and beams. He's happy, but how can he be happy?
What had George thought that he was going to find when he came from the country he won't admit to? A better life? Had he really thought that? What had he given up in wherever he was in exchange for traipsing along a Mallorcan beach, selling fake goods to tourists with wealth of which he could only dream? How had he got to Spain, to Mallorca? What dangers had he endured on a sea journey from Africa in order to be able to stop by a bunch of beachgoers and, in an almost childlike manner, enthral a child with his pirated wares?
What is it like to be George? To not see his family for years. To post by Western Union what he can for their upkeep. To not be at the margins of Mallorcan society but to not even be a part of it. To know that even if he becomes very poorly he would probably be refused treatment. What does George think of?
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
I hazard a guess. "Senegal?" He laughs. No, laugh is not right. He splutters. "Ghana?" Now he splutters and thwacks an ochre palm lined with crevices of deeper brown on to a jeans-covered thigh. He's not telling, is he. Or it's a game. It doesn't matter.
He must get hot. It can't be easy walking up and down, up and down, up and down in the soft and deep sand. In the heat. With long trousers on and a bag over his shoulder. Keeps him fit, he says, and splutters through teeth clenched not because he's fighting off annoyance or anger but because his laughter is his defence.
For now, he's resting. It doesn't appear to bother him that the seat of his jeans will get covered by sand. He rocks from side to side as though there were a song in his head. "Manchester United?" he asks. Paul pulls a quizzical face. "He's a German boy." Momentarily, George appears baffled. You can see he's thinking. Then his eyes light up. "Bayern Munich." And he splutters all over again. The boy is the one who now beams, and George offers a high-five, which is happily reciprocated.
He is sitting in the sand because he is waiting. He hasn't been invited but nor is he asked to move on. He has business. Should the boy have been discouraged? He wanted the sunglasses though. And George is likable. Money has to be collected, as none had been brought to the beach. He doesn't mind waiting. He has all the time in the world. Plenty of time to rest from his endless trudging.
A different George ambles past, sand being gently kicked up by his flip-flops. The two Georges exchange languid nods of the head and indeterminate noises from somewhere deep in their throats. "A friend?" I ask. More spluttering.
I start to think that this laughing isn't because he can't speak English (or Spanish), as he can, but because he doesn't want to give any information. How often does he get asked questions by greater authorities than a group he has encountered on the beach? I would like to know, but it would get me nowhere. When he waved along the sand, where was he waving towards? What was he waving towards? Some pokey flat that he shares with four or five others? Towards or around Bellevue, I'd guess, though I could be wrong.
Heike's returned with her purse. George takes the note (notes) apologetically but graciously. He beams but doesn't splutter. Paul screws his eyes up behind his new sunglasses, sticks his chin out and moves his head towards and away from the direction of the sun. Now George does splutter. "Hey, cool," he says. "Cool," echoes Paul in the way that Germans of any age do, "Koo-ull".
George slopes off, loafing and shuffling in the sand, his bag over his shoulder. What does he have in the bag? More sunglasses? T-shirts? Something else? I doubt it. Not on the beach. Not during the day. He moves away but turns, waves and beams. He's happy, but how can he be happy?
What had George thought that he was going to find when he came from the country he won't admit to? A better life? Had he really thought that? What had he given up in wherever he was in exchange for traipsing along a Mallorcan beach, selling fake goods to tourists with wealth of which he could only dream? How had he got to Spain, to Mallorca? What dangers had he endured on a sea journey from Africa in order to be able to stop by a bunch of beachgoers and, in an almost childlike manner, enthral a child with his pirated wares?
What is it like to be George? To not see his family for years. To post by Western Union what he can for their upkeep. To not be at the margins of Mallorcan society but to not even be a part of it. To know that even if he becomes very poorly he would probably be refused treatment. What does George think of?
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Monday, August 12, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Weather Alcúdia and Pollensa 12 August 2013
No Frills Excursions
Morning high (7.15am): 21.5C
Forecast high: 32C
Sea conditions (northern Mallorca; Alcúdia and Pollensa bays): West and Northwest 2 to 3 increasing and veering East and Northeast 3 to 4 during the central part of the day.
Easterlies coming in today may increase the heat index a little, so feeling a bit hotter on another sunny day. Tomorrow, there may be some cloud around. The outlook for the week, staying hot at over 30 degrees and mostly sunny.
Evening update (20.15): Some cloud coming in later in the day, and tomorrow is due to be cloudy. Highs today: 33.6C inland and 31.9C on the coast.
Mariano's Island In The Sun
Stephanie Banister is (was) a candidate in the Australian election. Innocence or ignorance of youth might explain Ms. Banister's loose grip on geography. More likely was the ignorance of the lunatic right. Ms. Banister, 27, is a member of the One Nation Party. She thinks that Islam is a country, a gaffe that has contributed to her withdrawing her candidacy for a seat in Queensland, a state once dominated by Joh Bjelke-Petersen, who appeared to believe that Queensland was part of apartheid South Africa and who could have taught even Spain's politicians a thing or two about corruption.
Ms. Banister can at least console herself that she is not alone. She is the distant cousin of other rightist, global geographical ignoramuses, Sarah Palin and George W. Or maybe she thinks she isn't so distant and believes that Queensland has in fact been relocated to redneck America (not of course that there is anywhere that is officially redneck America in geographical terms). Given her knowledge, Ms. Banister probably wouldn't be able to tell you where Mallorca is. Again, though, she wouldn't be alone. Nor can the prime minister of Spain.
While politicians of varying colours fret about the imposition of TIL, the integrated treatment of languages, they might prefer to improve the educational system by adopting GIL, the integrated treatment of geography, and make Mariano sit his Spanish geography 101. "Now, Mariano, see this thing in the Mediterranean. It's an island and it begins with an M. Not these other ones - Menorca or Malta - this one. What's its name?" "Erm, Palma."
Heralding as he does from Galicia, a part of Spain that is about as far away as you can get from Mallorca, premier Rajoy might be excused his little "lapse" but, hang on, Mariano's a football fan, admittedly not an ultra with Galicia's Deportivo but one of Real Madrid's prawn-sandwiches brigade, so, and if only because of La Liga (before relegation), he should be aware that it is Real Mallorca and not Real Palma.
Rajoy's little lapse occurred during a press briefing following his chinwag with the King at the Marivent last week. "The island of Palma", he said, thus confirming what many believe, which is that Palma is all that matters in Mallorca. Gaffe it was, but was it attributable to a toponymic slip or does Mariano simply have no comprehension of geography?
It is possible that he doesn't and that he took to heart his introduction at the UN's Rio+20 conference last summer as the first minister of the Solomon Islands as well as the subsequent invitation from the head of those islands' visitor-bureau general manager of an official residence on the islands. Ah but, does he know where the Solomon Islands are? South of Mallorca maybe. No, sorry, south of the island of Palma.
It is equally possible that Mariano had been confused and unnerved by an item on the agenda with Juan Carlos, the small matter of smokescreen affairs of state relating to Gibraltar. Perhaps he had confused a lump of rock that isn't an island with a larger lump of rock that is and had thought that he was in fact on Gibraltar. Not having a clue where he was, all he had to go by was a piece of promotional literature for "passion for Palma de Mallorca" shoved into his hand by Mateo Isern. Ah, Palma, the island of Palma. Or is it La Palma? That's an island as well. Isn't it? Now, where's that?
Rajoy observers can testify to the prime minister being unnerved every time he comes within muttering distance of a microphone boom. He was unnerved during his press briefing because he is always nervous. He tries to cover this up by being belligerent but he ends up sounding surly. He knew what questions would arise: Gibraltar, financing for the Balearics and the B-question. The financing is "complicated", as many things are for Mariano; it is one of his stock responses. The Barcenas question received a curt "no". As an exercise in PR, the briefing was as charmless as a monosyllabic Kevin Pietersen being taken to task for whatever his latest grievance with the press is.
Rajoy should lighten up, crack a few gags. He could take a lesson from David Warner, who has achieved what would have seemed impossible, namely endearing himself to a British cricket-loving audience and a cricket-writing media. But then, Warner isn't from Queensland, so he may know something about geography like he knows something about working his audience. Mariano doesn't and he doesn't even know where he is.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Ms. Banister can at least console herself that she is not alone. She is the distant cousin of other rightist, global geographical ignoramuses, Sarah Palin and George W. Or maybe she thinks she isn't so distant and believes that Queensland has in fact been relocated to redneck America (not of course that there is anywhere that is officially redneck America in geographical terms). Given her knowledge, Ms. Banister probably wouldn't be able to tell you where Mallorca is. Again, though, she wouldn't be alone. Nor can the prime minister of Spain.
While politicians of varying colours fret about the imposition of TIL, the integrated treatment of languages, they might prefer to improve the educational system by adopting GIL, the integrated treatment of geography, and make Mariano sit his Spanish geography 101. "Now, Mariano, see this thing in the Mediterranean. It's an island and it begins with an M. Not these other ones - Menorca or Malta - this one. What's its name?" "Erm, Palma."
Heralding as he does from Galicia, a part of Spain that is about as far away as you can get from Mallorca, premier Rajoy might be excused his little "lapse" but, hang on, Mariano's a football fan, admittedly not an ultra with Galicia's Deportivo but one of Real Madrid's prawn-sandwiches brigade, so, and if only because of La Liga (before relegation), he should be aware that it is Real Mallorca and not Real Palma.
Rajoy's little lapse occurred during a press briefing following his chinwag with the King at the Marivent last week. "The island of Palma", he said, thus confirming what many believe, which is that Palma is all that matters in Mallorca. Gaffe it was, but was it attributable to a toponymic slip or does Mariano simply have no comprehension of geography?
It is possible that he doesn't and that he took to heart his introduction at the UN's Rio+20 conference last summer as the first minister of the Solomon Islands as well as the subsequent invitation from the head of those islands' visitor-bureau general manager of an official residence on the islands. Ah but, does he know where the Solomon Islands are? South of Mallorca maybe. No, sorry, south of the island of Palma.
It is equally possible that Mariano had been confused and unnerved by an item on the agenda with Juan Carlos, the small matter of smokescreen affairs of state relating to Gibraltar. Perhaps he had confused a lump of rock that isn't an island with a larger lump of rock that is and had thought that he was in fact on Gibraltar. Not having a clue where he was, all he had to go by was a piece of promotional literature for "passion for Palma de Mallorca" shoved into his hand by Mateo Isern. Ah, Palma, the island of Palma. Or is it La Palma? That's an island as well. Isn't it? Now, where's that?
Rajoy observers can testify to the prime minister being unnerved every time he comes within muttering distance of a microphone boom. He was unnerved during his press briefing because he is always nervous. He tries to cover this up by being belligerent but he ends up sounding surly. He knew what questions would arise: Gibraltar, financing for the Balearics and the B-question. The financing is "complicated", as many things are for Mariano; it is one of his stock responses. The Barcenas question received a curt "no". As an exercise in PR, the briefing was as charmless as a monosyllabic Kevin Pietersen being taken to task for whatever his latest grievance with the press is.
Rajoy should lighten up, crack a few gags. He could take a lesson from David Warner, who has achieved what would have seemed impossible, namely endearing himself to a British cricket-loving audience and a cricket-writing media. But then, Warner isn't from Queensland, so he may know something about geography like he knows something about working his audience. Mariano doesn't and he doesn't even know where he is.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Labels:
Island of Palma gaffe,
Mallorca,
Mariano Rajoy,
Spain
Sunday, August 11, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Police who mocked defecating tourist await interior ministry decision
The three policemen from the local force in Santa Margalida who mocked and insulted a drunk tourist who was defecating in the Paseo Colon in Can Picafort are awaiting a decision as to their futures by the interior ministry, a report into the matter having been forwarded to it by the town hall. The incident, which occurred last year, was captured on a mobile and the video has been circulating on the internet. One of the officers now works for another town hall, while the other two are still with Santa Margalida, but all three face suspension from duty with loss of pay for up to three years, their offences including a failure in duty of care.
See more: Diario de Mallorca
See more: Diario de Mallorca
MALLORCA TODAY - Weather Alcúdia and Pollensa 11 August 2013
No Frills Excursions
Morning high (7.15am): 21C
Forecast high: 31C
Sea conditions (northern Mallorca; Alcúdia and Pollensa bays): Northeast 3 increasing 4 and backing North 3 to 4 during the middle of the day. A Northeast swell of up to one metre.
A Sunday of full beaches with plenty of hot sun. The sea is likely to have a good amount of waves with stiffish northerlies from midday. The outlook remains good with those northerlies dominating, so taking the edge of the high temperatures.
Evening update (19.00): A lovely day. Inland high 32.6C, coastal high 31.7C.
All The World's Your Lobster
There is a restaurant in Alcúdia which has long publicised itself as being a specialist in lobster. It is a restaurant owned by one of the port's dominant families. It is, as a consequence, a big name in matters of local nosebagging.
When a couple of hundred of the world's filthy rich pitch up on "The World", there would be, one would assume, a pecking order for enticing it to part with healthy wads in local eateries. One wouldn't be surprised if there had been some prior-to-docking invitations being forwarded to on-board handheld communications devices. Or perhaps protocol demands that such unseemly acts of publicity are frowned upon. It's rather as though royalty were going to be disembarking. It's simply not the done thing to be touting one's establishment so brazenly.
"The World" duly came to Alcúdia and duly left. Nothing of such size, in passenger terms, or of such seaborne wealth had ever been witnessed or hoped for in the admittedly short life of the new commercial port. What a sight it was. Sort of. "The World" doesn't really look like ships should be. Or as they used to be. Gone is a sleek arrow shape. One cannot distinguish between fore and aft, between bow and stern. "The World" wasn't designed so much as it was drafted by an architect, one familiar with the creation of multi-storey car parks and one who had spent too long as a small child using one part of an egg box to make a hull and placing piles of Ryvita in it to look like decks.
One assumes that the inhabitants of "The World" do, from time to time, live on land in houses like normal people (or probably in stately pleasure-domes like less than normal people). Or maybe they don't. As is said of the ship, it is constantly circumnavigating the globe, so perhaps the owners, i.e. the inhabitants and therefore residents, are a tribe of circumnavigational Kevin Costners in the endless search for Dryland and succeeding rather better than Costner's Mariner character in finding some.
What a bizarre existence it must be. They must get shore time or they would go mad. A claustrophobic world moving around the world with the sea as the back garden and the horizon as the view from the living-room. "The World" says that for the prices of a cabin - from 600 grand US dollars for the poor rich to 13 million dollars for the Bill Gateses - you get comfort from each other, "good company and lots of laughter". The maniacal laughter that is induced by cabin fever, of being too long before the mast, of being struck by a form of calenture and imagining the sea to be green fields and needing to throw oneself into it. There is presumably a permanent on-board team of psychologists, but who counsels them?
For three days the giant pile of white Ryvita was docked at Alcúdia's port. Now it has gone to continue its endless voyage, its many years mission to seek out new life and new civilisations, boldly going where no billionaires have gone before, which probably isn't accurate as they have been before. But few, if any, would have been to the new civilisation of Alcúdia before.
Where will it be heading? Not along the east coast of Africa past Somalia, one would wager. There is world and there is world. And the world is lobster-shaped.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
When a couple of hundred of the world's filthy rich pitch up on "The World", there would be, one would assume, a pecking order for enticing it to part with healthy wads in local eateries. One wouldn't be surprised if there had been some prior-to-docking invitations being forwarded to on-board handheld communications devices. Or perhaps protocol demands that such unseemly acts of publicity are frowned upon. It's rather as though royalty were going to be disembarking. It's simply not the done thing to be touting one's establishment so brazenly.
"The World" duly came to Alcúdia and duly left. Nothing of such size, in passenger terms, or of such seaborne wealth had ever been witnessed or hoped for in the admittedly short life of the new commercial port. What a sight it was. Sort of. "The World" doesn't really look like ships should be. Or as they used to be. Gone is a sleek arrow shape. One cannot distinguish between fore and aft, between bow and stern. "The World" wasn't designed so much as it was drafted by an architect, one familiar with the creation of multi-storey car parks and one who had spent too long as a small child using one part of an egg box to make a hull and placing piles of Ryvita in it to look like decks.
One assumes that the inhabitants of "The World" do, from time to time, live on land in houses like normal people (or probably in stately pleasure-domes like less than normal people). Or maybe they don't. As is said of the ship, it is constantly circumnavigating the globe, so perhaps the owners, i.e. the inhabitants and therefore residents, are a tribe of circumnavigational Kevin Costners in the endless search for Dryland and succeeding rather better than Costner's Mariner character in finding some.
What a bizarre existence it must be. They must get shore time or they would go mad. A claustrophobic world moving around the world with the sea as the back garden and the horizon as the view from the living-room. "The World" says that for the prices of a cabin - from 600 grand US dollars for the poor rich to 13 million dollars for the Bill Gateses - you get comfort from each other, "good company and lots of laughter". The maniacal laughter that is induced by cabin fever, of being too long before the mast, of being struck by a form of calenture and imagining the sea to be green fields and needing to throw oneself into it. There is presumably a permanent on-board team of psychologists, but who counsels them?
For three days the giant pile of white Ryvita was docked at Alcúdia's port. Now it has gone to continue its endless voyage, its many years mission to seek out new life and new civilisations, boldly going where no billionaires have gone before, which probably isn't accurate as they have been before. But few, if any, would have been to the new civilisation of Alcúdia before.
Where will it be heading? Not along the east coast of Africa past Somalia, one would wager. There is world and there is world. And the world is lobster-shaped.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Weather Alcúdia and Pollensa 10 August 2013
No Frills Excursions
Morning high (7.45am): 21.5C
Forecast high: 31C
Sea conditions (northern Mallorca; Alcúdia and Pollensa bays): Variable 2 to 3 increasing Northeast 3 and occasionally 4 during the middle of the day. Swells between one and two metres.
A fresh feel to the morning, sunny and staying sunny. Breezes predominantly northerlies so, although the temperatures are high, the atmosphere will not be as oppressive as earlier in the week. The outlook remains good with highs into the low 30s.
Evening update (19.30): An inland high of 31.4C and coastal of 29.8C.
Conspiracy Of Silence: The "Stern" report
"Stern" is a German magazine. It isn't sensationalist but nor is it über-serious or über-important, like "Der Spiegel". But like other German publications and media, "Stern" takes an interest in Mallorca which goes beyond the mere holiday angle. Mallorca to the Germans is almost a separate state.
In 2002, "Stern" laid into attitudes on the island which had caused a deterioration in the island's image as a tourist destination. Singled out for criticism was the tourism minister at the time, Celesti Alomar, who had uttered the infamous words - "cheap tourists are no longer wanted in Mallorca". The German consul was so put out by this that he reminded Alomar who it had been who had enriched the island; those "cheap" tourists of whom he had been dismissive.
Alomar was an example, as was Maria Antònia Munar, then at the Council of Mallorca, of a Mallorcan politician who, with their insensitive remarks about "cheap" tourists, totally failed to appreciate the link between the mass of tourism in Mallorca and cost.
And Munar is one who gets a dishonourable mention in the latest "Stern" study of Mallorca. She is referred to as having belonged to a "highly corrupt political caste", corruption being just one theme that "Stern" has chosen to feature in its current edition. The cover of the magazine tells you what to expect: "Mallorca, the dark side of the holiday island". Under the heading "the Mallorcan brand", the leader says that "behind the facade" is "a great mass of misery, criminality and despair".
The report itself, across ten pages of the magazine, features desolate urban scenes in Palma. There is a photo of a drug user, taken, it is said, after a visit to a drug supermarket in the shanty town of Son Banya. There is a photo of a queue for a soup kitchen. You can count around forty people in the queue, but you can't see where the queue ends.
A doctor in Calvia is quoted as saying that "this is an island of problems". He wishes to remain anonymous. The misery being as it is, "important people do not want it to be spoken about". This is one of the more striking observations made by the three journalists responsible for the report. A further one is this: "Business and justice on the island are closely intertwined. There are twelve families who exert significant influence. A quip goes thus - 'Mallorca is Sicily without the guns' ".
It would be revealing to know who these twelve families are and who the important people are, as these two observations allude to conspiracies of silence which demand that as little as possible is said that might harm Mallorca's paradise image and the interests of important people and important families.
In truth, there isn't a great deal in the "Stern" report that one doesn't already know. Drugs, violence, prostitution (reference is made to Arenal as opposed to Magalluf), lack of credit, poverty and the enormous and widening gap between rich and poor. They are known about.
I look through this report and it is as if it has collated things about which I have written over the years. It is not a report into the sensationalist goings-on in resorts like Magalluf. It goes much wider, considering education "it is not an investment, it is considered a waste" and innovation, or the lack of, "you become rich through nepotism and cunning not through innovation".
The report starts by painting a picture of this paradise island and of obscene wealth before revealing the darker side. It ends by considering the paradise that is enjoyed by one wealthy German businesswoman, Heidi Warth of the Mallorca Gold estate agency. It says that she still enjoys the good times, selling Mallorca's crown jewels, but that she has moved her assets to Zürich, fearing a Cyprus may occur, and she complains about a Mallorcan unwillingness to really change anything. She says that the quality of life is unlike that anywhere else but that it is only on the surface; "otherwise it is cruel".
This conclusion is perhaps the most astonishing part of the report. Here's a purveyor of the paradise image who has done very nicely out of it but who admits to the island's superficiality. Beautiful island but a suffering island; the beautiful people who are shallow people. I can already hear the sound of ranks being closed, of righteous, self-delusional denial. It is a report that is less revealing than the magazine might believe, but it is a report, nevertheless, that local media would be most wary of compiling. It contains truths, ones which, because of the conspiracy of silence, are too rarely confronted with honesty.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
In 2002, "Stern" laid into attitudes on the island which had caused a deterioration in the island's image as a tourist destination. Singled out for criticism was the tourism minister at the time, Celesti Alomar, who had uttered the infamous words - "cheap tourists are no longer wanted in Mallorca". The German consul was so put out by this that he reminded Alomar who it had been who had enriched the island; those "cheap" tourists of whom he had been dismissive.
Alomar was an example, as was Maria Antònia Munar, then at the Council of Mallorca, of a Mallorcan politician who, with their insensitive remarks about "cheap" tourists, totally failed to appreciate the link between the mass of tourism in Mallorca and cost.
And Munar is one who gets a dishonourable mention in the latest "Stern" study of Mallorca. She is referred to as having belonged to a "highly corrupt political caste", corruption being just one theme that "Stern" has chosen to feature in its current edition. The cover of the magazine tells you what to expect: "Mallorca, the dark side of the holiday island". Under the heading "the Mallorcan brand", the leader says that "behind the facade" is "a great mass of misery, criminality and despair".
The report itself, across ten pages of the magazine, features desolate urban scenes in Palma. There is a photo of a drug user, taken, it is said, after a visit to a drug supermarket in the shanty town of Son Banya. There is a photo of a queue for a soup kitchen. You can count around forty people in the queue, but you can't see where the queue ends.
A doctor in Calvia is quoted as saying that "this is an island of problems". He wishes to remain anonymous. The misery being as it is, "important people do not want it to be spoken about". This is one of the more striking observations made by the three journalists responsible for the report. A further one is this: "Business and justice on the island are closely intertwined. There are twelve families who exert significant influence. A quip goes thus - 'Mallorca is Sicily without the guns' ".
It would be revealing to know who these twelve families are and who the important people are, as these two observations allude to conspiracies of silence which demand that as little as possible is said that might harm Mallorca's paradise image and the interests of important people and important families.
In truth, there isn't a great deal in the "Stern" report that one doesn't already know. Drugs, violence, prostitution (reference is made to Arenal as opposed to Magalluf), lack of credit, poverty and the enormous and widening gap between rich and poor. They are known about.
I look through this report and it is as if it has collated things about which I have written over the years. It is not a report into the sensationalist goings-on in resorts like Magalluf. It goes much wider, considering education "it is not an investment, it is considered a waste" and innovation, or the lack of, "you become rich through nepotism and cunning not through innovation".
The report starts by painting a picture of this paradise island and of obscene wealth before revealing the darker side. It ends by considering the paradise that is enjoyed by one wealthy German businesswoman, Heidi Warth of the Mallorca Gold estate agency. It says that she still enjoys the good times, selling Mallorca's crown jewels, but that she has moved her assets to Zürich, fearing a Cyprus may occur, and she complains about a Mallorcan unwillingness to really change anything. She says that the quality of life is unlike that anywhere else but that it is only on the surface; "otherwise it is cruel".
This conclusion is perhaps the most astonishing part of the report. Here's a purveyor of the paradise image who has done very nicely out of it but who admits to the island's superficiality. Beautiful island but a suffering island; the beautiful people who are shallow people. I can already hear the sound of ranks being closed, of righteous, self-delusional denial. It is a report that is less revealing than the magazine might believe, but it is a report, nevertheless, that local media would be most wary of compiling. It contains truths, ones which, because of the conspiracy of silence, are too rarely confronted with honesty.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Labels:
Corruption,
Drugs,
Germany,
Mallorca,
Media,
Misery,
Sensationalism,
Stern magazine
Friday, August 09, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Weather Alcúdia and Pollensa 9 August 2013
No Frills Excursions
Morning high (7.30am): 20.5C
Forecast high: 31C
Sea conditions (northern Mallorca; Alcúdia and Pollensa bays): North 3 to 4 easing Variable 2 by the end of the afternoon. Swells from the north up to two metres.
An easier night for sleeping, the mugginess having gone. A clear morning and sunny all the way. Staying sunny over the weekend, the temperatures edging back up slightly.
Evening update (19.00): Fresher day, but highs still high. 32.2C inland and 30.1C on the coast.
Summer Days Of The Living Dead
Muro town is typically one of the hottest places in Mallorca. It in fact holds the record for having registered the highest ever temperature on the island - plus 44 degrees in July 1994.
Just look at that number. A thermometer value of over 44 degrees is a temperature at which human existence is threatened. Mercifully, the temperatures in Mallorca only rarely exceed 40 degrees, but were they to for any length of time, then the casualty wards and the undertakers would struggle. Yet, for all that such excessive temperatures are not the norm, excessive values are regularly reported. When a reading is taken in the sun, then these are hardly surprising.
Over the weeks of this summer's heatwave, Muro's neighbour, Sa Pobla, has recorded the highest temperature, one of over 40C on 27 July. The interior towns are hotter than the coastal resorts for fairly obvious reasons, but at times the degree to which the interior degrees are greater is striking; it can be anything up to four or five degrees.
A brief report in "Ultima Hora" yesterday confirmed that Muro and Sa Pobla are Mallorca's hottest spots (or are during the current heatwave). What do the people of these towns do when the thermometer has gone over the 100 Fahrenheit mark and is edging towards the 40 mark in new money? Very little is the answer. And what is done is done before it gets too hot to do anything.
For those of us who live and work in Mallorca, arranging days according to how hot it is going to be is a familiar story, assuming you are in a position to be able to arrange your day in such a way. The best time to do work that requires concentration is the early morning, but this brings with it attendant problems. Getting up early requires going to bed early, but no one does.
Siesta is supposed to compensate for this burning of both ends, but it only does so if you are able to have a siesta or indeed that you are able to fall asleep during the day. I, for one, cannot. Or not for any longer than a couple of minutes.
Sleep deprivation is what causes what you get come August. Workers, bar owners, many tourists enter a state of the living dead. They don't suffer from heat exhaustion as such, just the exhaustion brought about by lack of sleep, some of which is self-inflicted. At the height of summer, at the height of the temperatures, 24-hour party people come out to play, and even those who don't want to join the party become a part of it; nights and nights with far too little sleep.
It is the heat, though, which is the main cause of the debilitation and enervation, and for those in the interior the heat is that much more debilitating. Think for a moment and wonder if climate change were to produce what it is said it will, how hot it might be.
In an interior town such as Muro the afternoon heat is colossal. The shallow wetlands of Albufera, far from supplying a cooling effect, have the opposite effect. One study of wetlands discovered that daytime temperatures within and by wetlands can be higher by two to three degrees. This may well help to explain why Muro and Sa Pobla are typically Mallorca's hottest places.
Years ago, I found myself in Muro at around two o'clock on one particularly savage afternoon. It may be the mind playing tricks, but I'm sure that the square in front of the church wasn't paved then. Maybe I imagined it not to have been or maybe I had been affected by the heat. But I remember it as though it were a scene from a spaghetti western. Unusually for a square, it doesn't have bars or cafes surrounding it. There was not a soul to be seen. The place was dead, totally dead. And baking hot and dusty. I expected a Morricone soundtrack to play and Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef to suddenly appear menacingly at one corner of the square. Or Rik Mayall and Peter Richardson to materialise from behind the church and ask "tell me, amigo, what's the meanest, nastiest hotel for two mean, ugly, gunslinging bastards like us to stay in?".
It was how one imagined Spain to be, and it didn't disappoint. It was hellish, merciless and unrelenting heat. It was heat that was unprecedented, when temperatures really were heading into the mid-40s. It was July 1994. A summer day of the living dead like no other.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Just look at that number. A thermometer value of over 44 degrees is a temperature at which human existence is threatened. Mercifully, the temperatures in Mallorca only rarely exceed 40 degrees, but were they to for any length of time, then the casualty wards and the undertakers would struggle. Yet, for all that such excessive temperatures are not the norm, excessive values are regularly reported. When a reading is taken in the sun, then these are hardly surprising.
Over the weeks of this summer's heatwave, Muro's neighbour, Sa Pobla, has recorded the highest temperature, one of over 40C on 27 July. The interior towns are hotter than the coastal resorts for fairly obvious reasons, but at times the degree to which the interior degrees are greater is striking; it can be anything up to four or five degrees.
A brief report in "Ultima Hora" yesterday confirmed that Muro and Sa Pobla are Mallorca's hottest spots (or are during the current heatwave). What do the people of these towns do when the thermometer has gone over the 100 Fahrenheit mark and is edging towards the 40 mark in new money? Very little is the answer. And what is done is done before it gets too hot to do anything.
For those of us who live and work in Mallorca, arranging days according to how hot it is going to be is a familiar story, assuming you are in a position to be able to arrange your day in such a way. The best time to do work that requires concentration is the early morning, but this brings with it attendant problems. Getting up early requires going to bed early, but no one does.
Siesta is supposed to compensate for this burning of both ends, but it only does so if you are able to have a siesta or indeed that you are able to fall asleep during the day. I, for one, cannot. Or not for any longer than a couple of minutes.
Sleep deprivation is what causes what you get come August. Workers, bar owners, many tourists enter a state of the living dead. They don't suffer from heat exhaustion as such, just the exhaustion brought about by lack of sleep, some of which is self-inflicted. At the height of summer, at the height of the temperatures, 24-hour party people come out to play, and even those who don't want to join the party become a part of it; nights and nights with far too little sleep.
It is the heat, though, which is the main cause of the debilitation and enervation, and for those in the interior the heat is that much more debilitating. Think for a moment and wonder if climate change were to produce what it is said it will, how hot it might be.
In an interior town such as Muro the afternoon heat is colossal. The shallow wetlands of Albufera, far from supplying a cooling effect, have the opposite effect. One study of wetlands discovered that daytime temperatures within and by wetlands can be higher by two to three degrees. This may well help to explain why Muro and Sa Pobla are typically Mallorca's hottest places.
Years ago, I found myself in Muro at around two o'clock on one particularly savage afternoon. It may be the mind playing tricks, but I'm sure that the square in front of the church wasn't paved then. Maybe I imagined it not to have been or maybe I had been affected by the heat. But I remember it as though it were a scene from a spaghetti western. Unusually for a square, it doesn't have bars or cafes surrounding it. There was not a soul to be seen. The place was dead, totally dead. And baking hot and dusty. I expected a Morricone soundtrack to play and Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef to suddenly appear menacingly at one corner of the square. Or Rik Mayall and Peter Richardson to materialise from behind the church and ask "tell me, amigo, what's the meanest, nastiest hotel for two mean, ugly, gunslinging bastards like us to stay in?".
It was how one imagined Spain to be, and it didn't disappoint. It was hellish, merciless and unrelenting heat. It was heat that was unprecedented, when temperatures really were heading into the mid-40s. It was July 1994. A summer day of the living dead like no other.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
Thursday, August 08, 2013
MALLORCA TODAY - Llenaire "dogs beach" re-opens after poisoning
The area of Llenaire beach in Puerto Pollensa reserved for pets is to re-open today, several days after two dogs died as a result of poison being laid on the beach. Advice has been issued to owners, including muzzling dogs to prevent them from eating anything inadvertently, and the town hall is looking at introducing security cameras.
See more: Diario de Mallorca
See more: Diario de Mallorca
Labels:
Dogs poisoned,
Llenaire beach,
Mallorca,
Puerto Pollensa
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