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Thursday, 4 March 2010

I had to end a class ten minutes early last night because I thought the student was about to have an apoplectic fit when I started to introduce the phrasal verbs. I asked him if football was on and he admitted that yes, Spain were playing France and I suggested we wind down. I couldn't see him for dust after that and judging from the primitive noises upstairs in flat 2D I guess he wasn't lying. Finding myself home alone I leant out of the window in the hope that Henderson would be seen scurrying along but instead I could see the 'effing bleeder' zigzagging his way up the street and just as he arrived at the front door I heard him say something on the lines of 'let them denounce me'. You'd think he was sick of all this but nothing can keep him down.

Spanish people often tell me how saddened they are when they go to England and see old men sitting on their own in pubs but I see a lot of it here too. The anti smoking in bars and pubs law has yet to arrive here although I have seen people go outside to have a fag. I think they are preparing themselves for the big day. I can't remember the statistics but there is an argument here from the hoteliers and bar owners that trade will plummet once this law takes effect but I can't imagine Spanish men staying at home of an evening just because they aren't allowed to smoke in bars anymore.

Henderson was asking a friend the other day what the James Bond film Octopussy was called in Spanish after pondering the idea it might be Ocho Pulpitos or Ocho Gatitos or worse. This led on to Golden Eye being Ojo Dorado which seems OK but perhaps not Goldfinger, Dedo Dorado.

Finally, during my siesta Henderson leaves the tele on and there seem to be so many programmes concerning expats in Spain and these programmes all seem to start with the opening line '....once a tiny fishing village, now a ***king dump'.

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