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Wednesday, 24 September 2008

Aragon

I'm trying to find out if it is true that an Aragonese, one Emilio Bellvis, invented the mop. So much time and devotion is spent on this subject here. On the tele the other night they devoted at least half an hour on how great this invention was and showed clip after clip of a mop being wrung out that by the end of the programme I was exhausted. Along with that other great invention the lolly or 'chupachup' I can't think of anything else. As the Dutchman says, ' they are not quite the Internet though are they?'

Flats in Spain are designed to leave you thinking you have understood the Doors of Perception or have entered a labyrinth from which there is no escape. Lying awake in the early hours I will often wonder what the hell the other insomniacs are doing upstairs. Sounds of screws being dropped on the floor, sweeping and strange twangs resonate through the whole block. There's also a strange scratching noise which I first thought was mice but is always followed by the bloke in 3E flushing his loo. This sounds like an applause and I feel compelled to bow everytime it happens. The Dutchman decided to change a lightbulb at three in the morning and have a converstaion and I said that now I can envisage the scenarios upstairs better. The worst is the man who needs a cane to walk and I find myself thinking 'now he's going into the kitchen.....' In our old flat there was a woman who insisted on making the beds at seven in the morning whilst wearing high heels. You could hear the style in which she made the beds too. When the sheets are tucked in with such a ferocity and tightness that it is impossible to pull them back later on when you try to get into bed. Now we have the lovely Piti the poodle who howls the whole afternoon during the siesta and can only be silenced with a lambasting from the Dutchman who has been given permission and the keys to the flat by Mercedes, Piti's owner.

Noise aside, I've just found out The Colony Room in Soho is going to be closed down. I can't go to Soho when I find myself in London as the change depresses me. Maybe the change is also within me but that after hours feel was killed off when the government allowed bars to stay open 24 hours and banned smoking in them. I don't lament my salad days as I now enter my cake years with a certain gusto.

The longer I live in Spain the more worried I am that I am turning into some sort of Judge Pickles. I discovered Facebook today and find myself baffled. I don't understand people my own age let alone the youth of today. People back in Blighty are dismayed when I say I don't know who Jade Goody is or if I refer to a DVD as a video. I do know who Jordan is but can I really be the only person who spent most of my youth trying to avoid these people and from getting my head kicked in by them? Now I have to admire them for their honesty and ability to earn tons of dosh for just being celebrity rabble.

1 comment:

mike the trike said...

The viuda upstairs to us makes her bed while wearing high heels. I can also hear the lady next door combing her hair.