A clean sweep.

Earlier this year, in my Italian class in Manchester, we read an article about the mayor of Naples; at least I think it was Naples. Whichever place he was the mayor of, this fellow was introducing a whole lot of urban rules and regulations. One of these made it an offence to shake your tablecloth from your balcony onto the street below or, as is more likely, onto the balcony of the flat below yours. 

I mention this because of having to sweep one of the patios of the bijou residence more often than I would like. When we moved in, the place had apparently been cleaned but the patio off the bedroom was rather messy, including in one corner a tangle of fairly long human hair. It looked as though someone had brushed her hair, pulled the hair from the brush and then thrown it out of the window. We swept it up and threw it away. 

On our return from Sanxenxo, another clump of hair was there. Not good, but we swept it up again. Yesterday, after the night’s rainfall, yet another clump had appeared. I am beginning to fear we may have a bald upstairs neighbour. It’s definitely not Rapunzel as the hair is not golden blonde. This time there is also one of those thin plastic gloves, the kind hairdressers use. So maybe our bald neighbour runs a home hairdressing business. 

Whatever the truth of the matter, it’s not terribly nice. At least we have not acquired any odd socks or miscellaneous items of underwear dropped off the washing lines from higher flats. I remember having to go and reclaim items we dropped from our washing into the “patio de luces” in one of the flats we lived in. It can be quite embarrassing. Such are the trials of flat-dwelling! 

Talking about trials and misdemeanours, cartoons about the “Códice” continue to appear in the free paper. This one has a TV announcement that the Higgs Boson particle has been found by Geneva scientists which then goes on to say that policemen found it hours earlier in a garage belonging to a Santiago electrician. Like the Great Hadron Collider, this story seems to run and sun. 

A certain Comisario Serafin Castro in Madrid caused something of a stir by describing the accused as being a man of closed, dark, Galician nature, with some rather odd habits who kept his money hidden under the floor boards, LIKE ALL GALICIANS!!! Well, by all accounts the social media were all a-twittter with that remark. And, with a name like Castro, the good comisario must be Galician himself. I suppose it’s all right to insult your own kind. 

Anyway the electrician has come clean, admitted his crime and not doubt will be duly sentenced. 

Visitors to Santiago won’t be able to see the “códice” because they are reviewing security measures. And supposedly everyone will want to see it, even if they didn’t even know it existed before. 

Another little known Santiago de Compostela-related thing is the “Camino Inglés” of the pilgrims’ way. It appears they are trying to promote this route from Ferrol to Santiago as a means of boosting tourism in the area. Most pilgrims follow the French route. Maybe this is because the English just aren’t great pilgrims these days!