Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do and so it was that I found myself in my neighbour's flat watching Spanish TV. The neighbour and the flat were not a problem but TV of any kind is a always a conversation killer and often feels like it is leading to death by misadventure. So sitting through an episode of what looked like It's a Knockout where grown men dress as eggs while being chased around by a bull would not be my first choice of a Saturday night's entertainment. We try to get away from things but they follow us. Thinking you have left it all behind by moving to a town that is the one you should go to if the world ends because it is thirty years behind on the best of days isn't always a good move if it means you have to accept that there will be days when you spot a poster of a guru whose face you last saw plastered all over Bayswater some twenty years ago. Anything remotely hippy, alternative or New Age has arrived by the gutful. Then there are the bands. I had never heard of Gong until I came here and hope I never have to hear from them after the mind boggling spectacle they gave here a few years ago. Now I see The Slits are coming to town. I hadn't heard of them the first time around and now they follow me to make sure I do now.

The pigeons in Trafalgar Square if I remember rightly, make a sort of cooing sound. The sort of sound that would be preferable to say, a neighbour cutting into sheet metal for hours and hours. Pigeons here, just to be awkward bastards, make a sort of lowing noise. The first time I heard them the Dutchman decided to impress me with his skill at getting rid of them. It was a hot day and he was naked and stood at the window shooing the beasts and flicking at them with a towel. Being Aragonese pigeons they stood their ground so he decided to throw some water over them by using a coffee pot but didn't anticipate the glass part wasn't attached to the plastic bit and would leave and fly in the direction of the pigeons shattering against the walls and waking up about twenty Spaniards from their siesta, pissing off everyone, man and beast.

The crime rate here seems to be relatively low but every now and then something awful happens that beggars belief. Apart from these shocking events there seems to be lots of thieving going on and it always puzzles me the items that shop lifters seem to nick. Two men were caught 'acting suspiciously' last Wednesday in a shop with their get away driver outside. Inside the car were 40 bottles of booze and 19 items of cosmetics and various bits of 'bisuteria', cheap jewellery were found on the two culprits. It made me wonder who they were trying to woo.

Talking of hoodlums, the police put up a barricade to stop the lunatics who have been driving up and down our street of a weekend but only after one of them killed several people and chopped the legs of another after crashing into a group waiting outside a nightclub that was on the edge of town. Not wanting what I was dreading was going to happen repeated in town they have been putting up this barricade for quite a while only for the drivers to move it by tossing it next to the rubbish bins. I noticed tonight there are two posts that have been stuck in the ground. Let's see how long this lasts.

Whilst driving along Calle Tarbes today, a street famous for lack of consideration when it comes to drivers giving way to pedestrians, we saw another reprobate, a pigeon walking across the road along the zebra crossing and the driver on the other side stopped for it and waited patiently for it to get to the other side.