YOU'RE GOING STRAIGHT TO HULL.

I think I may have the best translation for the word 'pijo' into English. It means a lot of things which could be loosely described as 'posh' or 'stuck up' but the best one would probably be 'poncey'. I realised this whilst giving an English class the other day when my pupil Raul didn't know what a kettle was. I described it and he said 'oh, you mean a tetera?' which is a teapot but could be translated as a baby's bottle, and when I said 'no, it is before the teapot, it is the thing to boil the water to make the tea', he replied 'que pijos sois', or 'what a bunch of ponces you English are'. I was quite flattered.

Later the same day I found myself in one of those bars that seems to be forever the rage in Spain, the dreaded 'retro' bar. This one was modelling itself on a sort of Irish-cum-Spanish bar with mock sepia photos of 'quite a while ago' but calls itself 'Friends International' or something like that, don't want to give them too much free publicity, not that they need it as it is always packed to the Sallies. It is a smoking bar like most in Spain and serves 'tostadas' which may or may not be 'tostados' as I am forever forgetting to memorise words by associating them into something feminine or masculine. I do this a lot with words such as cenicero which I called cenicera for a while until I made it a macho object by remembering it with an image of the Marlboro man. I have doubts whether this method works especially when most Spanish women smoke like bastards. While I was there I found out a friend is off to Hull to do a summer camp or assist on one of these trips the Spanish kids like to do by spending a fortuna and ending up with the family from the infierno. I didn't understand where she was going as she pronounced Hull as in Hooool to which I said 'never 'eard of it'. when I realised what she was saying I said 'ahh, Hull, Prescottlandia! Sorry, I am a ponce from the south'. Yet thinking about it later, even those from Hull wouldn't pronounce it Hooool.

Talking of Prescott, I wouldn't mind naming a doggie after him once I can afford to get one, a dog that is, not the pugnacious politician of the same name. The other names on my list being Hastings or Nelson. I am also impressed with just about every Formula One driver's name. Mr Kobayashi, Mr De La Rosa, Mr Sutil et al sound great names for a book or film.

VELVET UNDERGROUND STATION

I've just been watching Cameron and Clegg standing in the garden of Downing Street and wondering if they had plotted this marriage not on the playing fields of Eton or Westminster if they have them,but perhaps in a field somewhere in Norwich in the late eighties after taking some ecstacy. It all seems quite surreal at the moment and I wonder if people will get used to it. It all sounded too good to be true and I can't wait to see this week's Have I Got News For You.


Meanwhile back here it seems Obama has been on the blower to Zapatero to pull his finger out and start cutting and he has proposed to cut the salaries of civil servants including his own. The queues opposite where I live grow by the day as people come to get food and clothing from the charity run there. Most of the people are women and Muslim and quite a few disgruntled gypsies.


Last Saturday we tried to enter the 21st century by upgrading to Broadband or ASDL as it is probably known here. There is a good offer from Telefonica but neither Henderson or I trust them or any other telephone company and were flabbergasted that we would have to give them our bank details from now on instead of turning up at a bank and paying in cash. I feel I am turning into either one of my parents as I didn't understand the new mobile I bought either and ended up paying three euros a day just because I had clicked on a couple of applications to see what they were. The nice young man helped me three days later when I realised what had happened and hopefully has blocked them as it seems jolly expensive trying to keep up with what's going on in the world. The long and the short of it is that we ended opening up a seperate account just for Telefonica so hopefully this weekend I will get or at least start the process of getting WI-FI etc installed.

I'M NOT A TOURIST

One thing that people don't understand if they have never lived abroad is that once you have integrated, learnt the language at least to a level were you can have a word perfect slanging match and not hear a single xenaphobic remark from your opponent, I think you can safely say you have more than enough rights to complain about your mayor if you are not happy with him or demonstrate you are not pleased with the latest graffitti or the hoodlums driving up and down at five in the morning or where your council tax is going. Brits who have never lived abroad and some who do, seem to think we or they are guests in the country they have chosen to live in and therefor don't have the right to say anything if they see something that is out of order. When people say 'well, you chose to live there', or 'well, the locals voted him in' when they hear my views on the mayor for example don't seem to realise that their views would sound very BNP if they said that to a foreigner back in Britain who didn't agree with Boris Johnson. I also think my neighbours wouldn't be very happy if I truned up ( keep this version..) at the meetings and sat there telling them 'well, I am just a guest here and have no right to spout my opinion, don't expect me to get involved with the latest saga on the dog or the water...''. I think once you have had a slanging match with Mercedes or gone down the council to ask what is going on with the pivot cum post that has been knocked down twenty times this year you know you are welcome. A lot of Brits don't realise I can vote in the Municipal elections and that one day I could run for mayor. We have friends in the mountains who told us that a tiny village nearby has a mayor who is also a part-time DJ and coke dealer so anything is possible here. Which leads onto the water situation here and how everyone seems to be turning to me to sort it out and I am thinking of putting something in it to calm them all down. Watch this space....

On a lighter note we did go up into them there hills to visit a lovely village called Ainsa were we ate in a fab restaurant called Callizos in a style I am beginning to get accustomed to but for a third of the price. It gave Heston Blumenthal a run for his money and with Enate wine came to about 33 Euros a head. The chef is called 'Magoo' according to my pal Elena who works at the nearby Casa Frauca and he came out from the kitchen at the ned (Ha!) of the meal to chat and tell us a big party of Norwegians couldn't make it on account of the volcanic ash. Our friend Jon said this was the worst excuse he had ever heard and would have believed them if they had said all their mothers had died, but then he feels the same everytime he hears the words 'Houston, we have a problem'. He says 'we all have problems my friend, my wife left me, I can't make ends meet....'

Later we found ourselves as usual in El Silencio de los Corderos, an old slaughterhouse I have mentioned before in the smashing villlage of. I woke up to a hung parliament and a hangover and none of the cures I have developed for either seem to work anymore.

Talking of this situation, the hung parliament I mean, I begin to wonder about my fellow Brits and our taking of the moral high ground in the court of Facebook/Twitter and blog opinion. On Facebook I notice people seem to make remarks about politicians and political groups in a desperate attempt to distance themselves. It's a similar thing here were you have to say which group you are with so the other person doesn't think you are an evil fascist or something. So many friends were battling to the end with Gordon that I realised that either I remain on the fringes or I have finally grown up. Finally Grown Up isn't synonymous with 'I vote Tory now' but come off it, how he was allowed to become Prime Minister in the first place, Gordon brown I mean not Cameron. I can say this as a Labour voter and supporter. It left me, like so many others in depsair ( as well as despair..) and floating. Thank God I didn't vote as I live here now and I am not one of those folk who live down on the Costa del Sol who may never go back but feel the pull and loyalty that demands they vote. It wouldn't feel right in the same way it doesn't feel right that as a tax payer I can only vote in the local elections here but not for the government.

LOAD OF BOLLARDS OR WHAT'S THE STORY?

They seem to have sorted out the pedestrianised bit of Huesca. There are new 'pivotes' or, as the local paper said, 'also known as 'bolardos', or Bollards'. The paper added that everyone had some form of entering the street if need be and that a remote control was available amongst other things. Another street was quoted as being a disaster when they tried to pedestrianise it as people made copies of the remote control. There seems to be an element of not wanting this to work but finally everyone seemed to be happy and understood the idea and I could imagine the Mobility councillors face when he added that although this was a new thing here 'it already exists in other cities.'


There are several words in Spanish that I can count on to embarrass me. The Media in Spanish is I believe, Los Medios but somehow I always say Las Medias which is the same as saying The Tights. The other one I have to watch out for is The Bill or My Account which is La Cuenta which I often forget is feminine and call it El Cuento which is the same as asking for your Story at the bank or in a bar. I almost forgot I get Apuesta, a bet, mixed up with apuesto which means a handsome elegant man.

YOU DON'T REALLY KNOW ME DO YOU?

So I guess we are now the evil ones as most of the neighbours avoid me or don't speak to me. Funny that, you'd think they would thank me for getting the beast to shut up seeing as they all moan about it at the annual meetings and behind Mercedes' back. No cojones you see. They didn't reckon on dealing with anyone with Irish blood I suppose. Never give an Irishman cause for revenge and don't think about it with an Irish woman especially one who boasts Jewish and Gyspy blood and is married to a Dutchman.

The latest ( first?) road to be pedestrianised is a tiny little one that runs down the side of the casino.The other day I saw that they had finally put in a pivot to stop the cars going down it and a set of bijou traffic lights. It was a joy to walk down and not worry if a car or van was about to ram you up the arse, clip your ear with its wing mirror, or poke your eye out with its aerial, especially on a cold day. I bumped into and spoke with a lawyer I know who has his office on this street and he was bemoaning how only the residents who have a garage get to have a 'key' to open the pivot and drive through. It is a tiny road and he lives two minutes away so I asked him what the problem was as he doesn't need to drive to work and he said 'but you are on the police's side!' like I am even more of a fascist than the neighbours imagine. 'No', I said, ' I don't understand what your problem is. You don't need to drive to work, so why would you need a key to get into your road? You walk to work.' He said, 'Yes, but what if I have a client in a wheechair ( sorry, gone a bit Scottish on this one...) ?' 'Well, I said, then I guess the council, not the police, as they only enforce the 'law', you know, the one the council, or government makes and then everyone does their best to break, should give you all a key and then once a year when your client turns up totally impeded, you can come down and open the pivot and let her come in by taxi or however she gets from A to B. God knows how she will climb the stairs though as you don't have a lift but never mind, and by the way, have you seen Calle San Lorenzo lately?'. ( Pictures should be provided soon on the third world UNESCO status state of the road we live in...). When I told Henderson later he calmly said 'he's a lawyer, he sold his soul years ago..'

So, the big complaint from the folk from Calle San Jose de Calasanz is that the folk with garages get the key and not the rest which I did agree was a bad thing and would be easier if they all had a key so they could get in if need be, you know, anything to get them to shut up and feel less victimised etc. Then today I read in the paper that they do all, neighbours and business people, have access to this pivot thingy and can open it but that this is easier said than done as the council have decided the best way is to give your mobile number (?) to the police, show that you live there or have a business and you will be able to open the pivot and so all will be able to get in regardless of whether they have a car/garage or not. The problem is that it doesn't work ( meaning it is already broken but also when it does 'work' it, well, doesn't if you know what I mean....) and people who don't have mobiles will have to get one and people who give permission to others to park will have to give them their mobiles and on it goes. So you see, there is a God and nothing works and no one cares, least of all me, muggins here, who has realised after a very long time that it doesn't pay to get involved.

There will be a new mayor by the name of Luis Felipe. I feel it might be a fresh start. Let's see.

DONE UP LIKE A KIPPER TIE

If I have understood correctly, our mayor will be replaced by someone else up to and for the job and people are already suggesting someone from The CHA, the Chunta Aragonesa Party. I don't know how this works as the mayor is with the PSOE, the Socialist Party. I agree with a lot of what The CHA say but I am not Aragonese and I get the feeling you have to be from round 'ere to feel more than welcome. I might be wrong and perhaps they could adopt me as one of them.

There are only a matter of weeks to go before I end my stint at San Viator School and I am thinking of doing a mini 'Huesca You've Got Talent' which is something I feel I have been threatening to do for a while. Next week is Aragon Week and there will be some mention of Saint George who is the patron saint of Aragon and Catalunya as well as England, Ethiopia and others. The children have managed to get to a level where they won't starve to death if they ever find themselves in a foreign land where Spanish isn't spoken but English probably will be. There is a term here called 'Huesketa' or something like that which kind of means people vow they will never leave Huesca and are devoted to this town and all it represents and nothing else matters and nothing else is worth mentioning. There is still a sense that the war zone that is the big wide world beyond isn't and need not be of any importance to people who live here. Sometimes I envy them their loyalty and love for their little village but then I remind myself you can feel like this towards the whole universe.

On the theme of Hicksville, a 'they do it on purpose' event happened on the way back from the Big Eroski. A car waited for us to pass even though there was plenty of time for the driver to pull out as is de riguer here and we were cruising along at a snail pace. He then pulled out and followed us for about three seconds and I mentioned to Henderson that this was odd behaviour and perhaps he would now have to overtake. As soon as I said this he did. It's that kind of unpredictable yet predictable behaviour here that does my head in. A few seconds later a pedestrian who was waiting to cross the road and was miles away from colliding with us decided to put on an act and feign hysterics by deciding not to cross the road until we passed. The whole of the short journey is littered with hazards almost as if they had placed there to test your mettle.

Henderson rang Mercedes and said he was about to ring the police as enough was enough after four or five years of listening to that bloody dog. I rang the police and five minutes later Mercedes was running up the road shouting up at our balcony 'que verguenza' which I suppose means 'you should be ashamed of yourselves' when in the rest of the universe this would mean 'I am ashamed of myself and my bloody dog, please forgive me as I am so embarrassed' but alas by ringing the police I or we are now the baddies. The police came about three minutes later and Anselmo her husband was by now coming up the road as they obviously realised I meant business this time. The police had a good old chat with Anselmo and I began to get worried that they might be related and I would be even more of a bad guy. Eventually, after about twenty minutos, the police came to my door and asked what the problem was. I told them 'look, I don't want to fight with an OAP, but her dog is driving me round the bend and and no one wants to do it, you know, tell her to get it to shut up, but this can't go on, and could you please at least have a word with her or I will call again and you will have to fine her'. They did this and even downstairs I could hear her defending herself and telling them that only we had a problem with the dog and how she never left it more than five minutes anyway, and the rest. Unbelievable really and I hate the way that if you call the police or complain or simply ask someone to pipe down you suddenly become evil and colluding with the proper authorities. That's not how I see it. If I had known better I would have called the police five years ago but I realise you can be two things here. A dickhead or a complete bastard. As long as the dog shuts the fuck up I don't care if they are my 'friends' or not.

I forgot to mention I managed to get the Skype up and running on my laptop and have now participated in an exhibition back in London by having my mug shot taken by a friend via this system. The end result actually looks quite cool and I am delighted to be a part of this 'happening'. It's also reassuring that with technology I can at last not feel alone and can connect with like minded folk as the supplies are running out here.

LET'S PARTY LIKE FRANCO JUST DIED

Or another cause for celebration could be the mayor has decided to abdicate, step down, vacate office, leave his sinking ship, run for cover or whatever it is you do when you owe everyone money. There is rumour that he is ill which wouldn't surprise me as he doesn't look himself of late. He is often quoted as saying no one else could do his job which doesn't inspire but I am sure there are loads of people who can't wait to take on the challenge of getting this town to work.

I found a scrap of paper with some references to the smoking ban in Spain and it said what looked like ' a panel of serious men......24% of bars....6,800 will close when the law is put in vinegar..' I think that last bit might want to read vigour. Underneath I had written 'el tabaco.....es sinonimo de libertad'. Alongside it I had written 'Jesus is coming down the road on wheels, all mod cons here you know....' I think I am going to frame this little vignette and have a laugh in ten years time when I'm still waiting. Then again, the more inert I become the more likely it will kick in. Start holding your breath.