Friday, 25 September 2020

Olé. Watch your language. You could get lost in translation.

 

Just yesterday, Mrs, Sánchez and I took Monty for his morning consitutional though Moseley Bog, an unfortunately named but beautiful wild and wooded wilderness, close to the historical, and also unfortunately named, Sarehole MIll.

Both were popular haunts of J.R.R. Tolkien, mythopoeist, author of The Lord of the Rings, and former Brummie, who spent his childhood just a cock´s stride away from us in Wake Green Road.      

J.R.R. Tolkien

'Yampy Ron' or 'Bab', as he was effectionately named by the local lads, spent all his spare time reading books or wandering round Moseley Bog, making up stories about elves, dwarves and orcs etc. The Bog and Mill haven't changed much since Ronnie's day, but you can now get a nice cream tea and an artisan pizza in the mill yard Wednesday to Sunday (Booking advisable).

                                      Moseley Bog

The Bog is a popular venue for dog walkers, nature lovers, serial killers and Gandalf impersonators (which astonishingly is NOT a crime), so I wasn´t surprised when The Hound of the Baskervilles shot past us in pursuit of little Monty. A strongly accented voice shouted what I took to be, ´¡Pa´Ca!´ (pa ka),which, in Álora means ´Come here!´and  I was immediately whisked back to the village of The Perotes, where we are usually in residence at this time of the year.       

The owners of the dog turned out to be from Salamanca in north west Spain and are on holiday in Birmingham because they are big ´Lord of the Rings' fans. We had a bit of a chat in Spanish and it turned out that the dog's name actually was Paca, short for Francisca. How we all laughed together about my mistake. Spanish people don´t say Ha Ha Ha , like us, they say 'Jajaja!' which sounds just the same. They didn't seem to have heard of the 2 weeks isolation rule either.

 

 may have to hand in my Man in Álora badge if we can't  get back to Spain soon. Brittany Ferries which operates the MV Pont Aven to Santander and Bilbao has already shut down several routes and cancelled hundreds of sailings, including our return boat in November! They have been hit hard by Britain's quarantine rules and are struggling to survive.

                               The MV Pont Aven

Our sailing for October seems to be still on, so fingers crossed. Monty will be looking forward to 24hrs. banged up in a cage on Deck 10. If he was a cat he'd have to stay in the car. Cats must have very strong bladders. I don´t know what would happen if you wanted to take your pet ferret for a holiday, the third animal that can be transported on a Pet Passport. I suppose you could keep it down your trouser leg like Eddie Grundy.

 

By the way, if anyone reading this venereal organ is planningto take their pet rabbit abroad by ship, you can think again. Rabbits are banned on all French sailing vessels.

                     Pas de lapins! - ¡Conejos No!

It´s all because of a superstition dating back to the 17th. century when some rabbits, which were being kept on board a ship for food, heroically nibbled their way through the wooden hull and sank the ship. I thought this was maritime myth until I called my old pal Christophe Matthieu the CEO of Brittany Ferries. He confirmed that if a crew member got so much as a whiff of a rabbit, the whole crew would munity. If you don't believe me, ask him.

The Pet Passports will be be invalid when Britain leaves the EU at the end of December. I don't know what we'll do with little Monty then.

'You see that big boat muchachos? That´s the Good Ship Pont Aven bringing Mr. and Mrs. Sánchez back to Spain.'

I must say Mrs. Sánchez and I are really looking forward to being back in Álora after 10 months away, even though we can only stay for 4 weeks this time, unless Pedro Sánchez (no relation) Spain´s Prime Minister delares another Estado de Alarma (State of Emergency) and we are locked down ad infinitum.

My chief Álora correspondent, Good-timin' Simon, tells me that life there has settled into ´the new normal' and everybody is wearing masks around town. That must have been unpleasant in the hot weather. I can't wait to visit the new bars and shops that have opened. Apparently there's a place where you can buy all sorts of British products, right in the centre of town. Much more convenient that having to go all the way to Iceland.                                                                         I'll be stocking up there on Oxo cubes, Ambrosia Creamed Rice, Wotsits and Sunny Delight to bring back to Blighty. That reminds me of another.........

Hero of  Álora. (number 2 in the series)

Corned Beef Keef

I don't know if anyone remembers Corned Beef Keef who lived in Álora about fifteen years ago. He had a house on Calle Carril with a back wall that overlooked the road from the Plaza Baja (Bottom Square) to the station.

Keef was 'a larger than life figure', which means a loud-mouthed pain in the arse. For some reason he always used to shout 'Watford!' at me whenever he saw me. He also used to sell tinned English food to homesick Brits from his back room.  Keef got involved with a bunch of British ne'er-do-wells who had a house in the square at the bottom of Calle Ancha.


La Plaza Baja (
The Bottom Square) looking towards Calle Carril and Calle Toro.

The story I heard was that he'd come to Álora to reclaim his wife who had 'taken up' with a local artist. They all used to hang out at the aforementioned antro de perdición (den of iniquity). A lot of drink and drugs were being necked and nosed down there in those days. One morning, as I was passing through the bottom square, I noticed a very large, very rude word daubed in red paint across the front of the house which I took to be a reference to his ex-wife. That went down well with the neighbours, I can tell you, even though I doubt that any of the vecinos had seen the word before.

Soon after, Keef's 12 ft. (3.65 metre) back wall collapsed into Calle Toro, which leads down to the Estación de Álora, completely blocking it. Months went by while Keef ranted about the 'f-ing council' being responsible for clearing it up and with neither Keef nor the 'f-ing ayuntamiento' doing anything to clear the road. Very inconvenient for everyone

One night someone fell out of a first floor window of the 'painted' house and was badly injured. This was followed by a fire which burnt out the front bedroom. The occupants were deported and Keef went back to England without his wife and hanged himself.

Oh! Those were the days!

Channel 4 has finally screened the episode of 'A Place In the Sun' that was filmed in Álora 18 months ago and featured an interesting, but sadly brief, interview with Yo mismo. The fee had not arrived when we left Álora in November, but I expect it will be waiting behind the door for me when we get back.

Watch Your Language! It could get lost in translation.

                         David Simon and Pablo Iglesias

There was a big fuss on Twitter in August when a Deputy Prime Minister of Spain, Pablo Iglesias congratulated David Simon, creator of The Wire on his film, 'The Plot Against  America', based on a Philip Roth novel about a Fascist take-over of America.

It all happened in the world of 'Twitter', when Pablo, socialist leader of the Unidos Podemos party tweeted: 

Vista “La conjura contra América”. @AoDespair y Ed Burns nunca decepcionan pero el momento en el que ha aparecido la serie le da un significado especial. A veces nos parece inconcebible el éxito del fascismo y, sin embargo, los colaboracionistas están siempre muy cerca.
Image

Image

(I just finished watching The Plot Against America. David Simon and Ed Burns never disappoint but the moment in which the series has come out gives it special meaning. Sometimes, the success of fascism seems inconceivable to us, and yet sympathizers are always close.” )

David Simons checked his phone the next morning and found that he had been mentioned on hundreds of replies to Iglesias's tweet. He must have got out of bed on the wrong side that morning, as we used to say, because he retweeted the comment and added:

“So, if my poor Spanish holds, this fellow liked the bent of a mini-series and tagged me. And so now into a second day, my Twitter feed is full of Francoists and Catalunyans screaming at each other in languages not my own. Well okay. It’s 1937 again. Fuck the fascists. No pasaran [sic]” – a reference to the anti-fascist slogan “They shall not pass.”

If some people could just resist the temptation to put their fingers to work on Twitter, the world would be a much calmer place. That´s my opinion anyway. David Simon couldn´t resist, though. He became embroiled in a slanging match in Spanish with Francoists, Fascists,communists, socialists, you name it. He even had a go at the USA. His knowledge of coloquial Spanish let him down when a supporter texted, 'Olé tus cojones' which translates as 'I smelt your balls.'  Taking it as an insult he replied, 'Tu madre', (Your mother) which really IS an insult. Imagine what a prat he felt when someone told him that Olé isn't just the first person singular form of the preterito of the the verb to smell (You knew that, didn't you?) but means ´Bravo!' or 'Fantastic', or ´'You've really got balls!' Here's Pablo's dad, Julio Iglesias showing us how it's done.(I think the words at the top are a bit suspect too)


 “Okay, so I’ve wasted the entire morning insulting the mothers and rhetorical paucity of Spanish fascists and Francoists on Twitter. But I have learned that ‘smell your balls’ is actually a compliment. So it’s a bit of a break-even.”

David Simon

Pie News 

Pie-lovers may have noticed the absence of this popular section. I do apologise. I can report that the Cornish Pasties (a close cousin of the pie) in the Isles of Scilly are still top class. I managed at least one a day. The Isles were still Covid 19-free when we left, which seemed to confirm the old Cornish saying, 'A pasty a day keeps a virus at bay'. I'm sad to report that the first confirmed case there was announced this morning. 

On a happier note, although Mrs Sánchez and I haven't been going out much recently I have discovered a top notch pastry treat.

                   The Charlie Bigham full pastry pie

Regular readers and pie-fanciers will know that there are pies....and mis-named pastry pretenders that may be scrummy in their own right but are not proper pies. (I know I'm very close to boring you, or making your mouth water, here).

A good Cornish Pasty can score 100% for taste, texture and practicality and is one of my favourites, but it's not a pie, and does not pretend to be - unlike the Spanish empanada which is a pasty masquerading as a pie. Likewise, many items served in restaurants and pubs as pies turn out to be a 'filling' in a pot bowl with a pastry topping. Pie experts call this a 'top crust'.


 Not a proper pie.

 

 

 

 

A real pie consists of a filling entirely enclosed in pastry, regardless of the filling or type of pastry - puff, shortcrust or hot water pastry.

Charlie Bigham has been producing high quality ready to cook meals for several years His pies are delicious but until recently they have been 'top crust'. In 2019 he announced:

“Pies are a national treasure, which is why we want to give diners the option of choosing between flaky lid pies and proper full pastry pies.” “At this time of the year, they’re truly the perfect mouthful of food – buttery pastry blended with tender meat, flavoursome vegetables and a rich stock or sauce.”

There are four meat varieties. The one above is a Roast Chicken, Ham Hock and Leek Pie. No vegetarian ones yet.

The trouble is that they are very overpriced at £4.50. I get mine from Waitrose, where, with a little planning, you can bag one at a reduced price.


Result!

I've always looked forward to reading comments from my readers, if you will excuse the familiarity, even if it was just to correct my spelling or grammar. The updated version of Google Blogspot doesn't allow this, so that's that.

 ¡Hasta pronto!

Juanito Sánchez

 24th. September 2020

 

 


4 comments:

  1. Hurrah, Juan, back in the saddle, I've been checking your blogspot regularly for new news of your adventures, I was wondering if your sailing would go ahead, too. We've been getting out of town at least once a week, visiting National Trust gardens and parklands and I recently had a most unusual experience at Croft Castle when, sitting at a picnic table with Lydia whilst Annie had wandered off to take photographs, I was flashed at by a female at an adjacent table, at my age, too. I shan't go into details here but needless to say I was glad we both had sunglasses on! I mean, where does one look? You'd think an old rock 'n' roller like me would have seen everything but that has never happened to me before. Anyway, back to lockdown normality here, walking around the bog and the field, did I ever tell you that back in the 60s I knew Tolkien's granddaughter? Have a good journey back to Alora and we can hopefully catch up when you return.

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